#EVERY THURSDAY I GET NOTIFICATIONS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonchildstyles · 10 months

Note

Ooooh I would love to see Prosecco h taking care of his pretty girl when she is sick :( and maybe she doesn’t tell him she’s sick but he finds out and is like 🥺

sooooo! I changed this just a little but I hope you still like it! thank you sm for requesting!!!!

wordcount: 7.5k

—————

(Y/N) smiled, listening back to the voicemail Harry left for her this morning.

Those small gifts had become her favorite thing to wake up to, eager to hear his voice and know that he was thinking of her even when he had been in a rush to get to the office. More often than not, she was greeted with a stream of consciousness message about all of the things he was doing or needed to get done before he could head out, along with tender declarations that he would talk to her soon, and that she was on his mind. It was never anything particularly grand or cloyingly romantic, but (Y/N) saved every single one of them. Hearing his voice was a part of her morning routine now, she couldn't go without.

Though she was just as in love with this recording as the others, there was a slight sticky quality to his voice this morning. It was extra thick, seemingly heavy on his tongue as if he had a stuffy nose. But, he didn't mention anything about feeling under the weather.

She would have to check up on him later, she decided. Send him a text or call him on his lunch to make sure it wasn't anything more than allergies or those cold symptoms that seemed to pop up in the morning before a cup of coffee could flush out his sinuses.

Once the voicemail ended, Harry finishing with a small "I love you", (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear, scanning through the rest of the notifications she ignored in favor of hearing his voice. There was nothing more to read than a couple of flags reminding her the schedule she had input on her phone and some social media messages from the girls she was growing closer to from her classes.

Bypassing those minute messages, she pulled up Harry's contact thread. Typing out a message, she reveled in the soft cushioning of her bed with her boyfriend on her mind.

i just listened to ur voicemail🤍 i hope ur day gets less busy but I love u too soooo much

also it sounded like u were a little sick over the phone are u okay?:(

Starting her day slowly, (Y/N) took her time getting ready, checking her phone here and there in hopes of receiving a response from Harry. It wasn't until she had a cardigan draped over her shoulders and bag on her shoulder, walking out the door, that her phone vibrated.

Though she knew that Harry would scold her if he saw how distracted she was crossing the parking lot to her car, phone in hand, she didn't really care. Especially when it was his notification that she was enamored with.

H🤍 My day's already getting better since hearing from you, love. Would it be alright if I call you on my lunch? I miss you.

No, I'm not sick, just allergies. Thank you for checking on me🩷

Her heart bubbled in her chest as she climbed into her car, a bashful grin splitting her cheeks. She could hear his messages in his voice, lingering over the soft sentiment that he missed her. Before pulling out of the parking lot she made sure to let him know that she was more than okay with him giving her a call later, attaching multiple hearts and kisses to the text.

She hoped she made him smile like he did for her.

—————

Blindly reaching for her phone to cancel her alarm, (Y/N) barely cracked her eyes open when she brought the device to her face. The time blinked up top, an early class alarm having pulled her from her dreams. Thursdays were always the worst day of the week in her eyes; she had to wake up extra early, wait around on campus after her morning classes ended because the hour-long gap between her afternoon courses was too short to head home, and most of her deadlines were set for 11:59pm that night. She dreaded starting her day when it came to Thursdays.

Allowing herself a moment of reprieve, taking an extra long blink of her eyes, (Y/N) finally sat up with the motivating thought of seeing what Harry had left her in his voicemail.

Blinking the sleep from her gaze, she swiped through her phone with sleep-shaky fingers. She absently pulled up her call log, expecting to see a missed call from Harry, attached with a voicemail to start her day with.

When there was no red bubble denoting a notification or a text message informing her of a missed voicemail, (Y/N) blinked extra hard in hopes of clearing her vision. When she recovered, coming to her senses more and more, there was still nothing to be seen.

Harry hadn't called her.

A pout formed on her lips. He never missed calling her in the morning. Since this had become a regular thing, there was never a morning Harry missed greeting her, starting both of their days off with a sweet message. She hoped he was alright.

Pulling up his text thread, she typed out a quick message.

good morning honey ! are you doing okay? i didn't get a voicemail from u so I wanted to make sure !! miss and love u so much call me when you can:)))))

When the receipts didn't quickly change to read, she took in a sigh. While it wasn't like him, there was a possibility that he woke up too late in the morning to give her a call like usual and didn't have time. There was always the chance that he had taken a late night hours before, working hard and allowing him to lie in this morning.

(Y/N) was willing to convince herself of either scenario, pushing her imagination along with the terrible ideas sprouting. She just hoped he was okay.

—————

Sitting in the quad, breathing in the first airs of autumn with her headphones covering her ears, (Y/N) didn't rush away from her textbook when she felt her phone vibrate. Finishing off her notes, she waited a moment longer, rereading what she had transcribed before plucking up her phone. The name on her notification had her heart skipping a beat

H🤍

Sorry, sweetheart. I woke up late this morning, and have been rushing around the offie all day. I didn't mean to ignore you, I'm so so sorry. Maybe I can call you tonight, on my way home? Love you so much.

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked, reading over his message. Honestly, a chunk of worry she hadn't realized she had been holding onto evaporated. The reassurance that he was okay, and none of the haywire scenarios that she had forced to the back of her mind had even been a little true, was freeing. He was just having a Thursday, just like she was.

don't be sorry im just happy youre okay!!! im sorry youre having a rough day:( is there anything i can do to help?????

yes yes please call me later:( I miss you:(

love you moooooooore :)

The time between the moment she had sent off her last message to the receipts flipping from delivered to read was almost instantaneous. The three grey dots popped up on the side of her screen just after.

H🤍

You don't need to do anything for me, sweetheart, you're already helping. My afternoon is going to be busy, but I should be out of here around the normal time so I'll call you around then. I miss you too.

It didn't feel right not to call you this morning, but I didn't have time. I think it threw me off.

Love you most:)

Laying back on the grass, music still fluttering through her speakers, (Y/N) smiled up at her phone as she held it over her face. It was always especially cute when he would add little emoticons or emojis to his messages.

i missed hearing u this morning too but its okay !!!! don't stress urself out too much this afternoon though just call me when you can 🩷🩷🩷🩷

i have to get to class now but ill talk to you later :))))

Harry's response came in the form of a string of hearts being sent her way, the messages making her smile before she pocketed her phone. Now that the anxious urgency she had before was now melted away, she took her time gathering her things and heading towards her next class.

Everything was turning up, she decided. Thursday was almost over, Harry was okay, and she now could look forward to a phone call from him this evening.

All she had to do was get through this final class.

—————

"Hi, honey," (Y/N) smiled, pressing her phone to her ear as soon as she saw the call blinking across the screen.

On the other line, there was a slight rustle. "Hi, love," Harry finally murmured, his breath coming out heavy, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she sang, closing her laptop lid in favor of focusing on Harry, "Just waiting for you. Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," he sighed once more, "Been a long day. Sorry to keep you waiting."

(Y/N) shook her head even though she was well aware of the fact he couldn't see her. "Don't be sorry, H, stop. I'm sorry you had a bad day, what happened?"

Before he could answer, a rattling cough was heard over the receiver. Harry seemingly pulled the phone away from himself, the sound growing more distant before he returned a beat later. "Sorry, I jus—"

"Are you getting sick?" She didn't quite believe his explanation of allergies anymore.

"No, love," Harry muttered, his voice suddenly sounding thicker than (Y/N) remembered, a sniffle of his nose sounding a moment later. "I've jus' had a long day is all. 'M a little run down."

That didn't ease her any. (Y/N)'s lips thinned, a pinch appearing in between her brows. "It's okay if you're getting sick, H. I'm worried you're not taking care of yourself."

"'S not like that, sweetheart, I promise. After I get through tomorrow, everything will calm down and I'll be fine. Don't worry over me, okay?"

Every word that fell from his lips sounded less and less convincing. He definitely sounded sick with the way he gummed around his words through a thick throat, his breathing coming a bit heavier as if he couldn't breathe through his nose, and his reassurances sounded exactly like someone who was getting sick but didn't want to admit it would say.

Harry took her silence for exactly what it was: her disbelief. "(Y/N), love, I really am jus' tired. Thank you for worrying about me, but y'don't have to. 'M alright."

She swallowed. She supposed he really could be experiencing those cold symptoms for no other reason than the fact that he's tired, and has been going through a couple of long nights. With the weekend coming up, she too could argue that she wasn't feeling well enough to finish out her week, for no other reason than she would prefer to sleep in and do nothing instead of attending class.

"Okay," she relented, "Sorry to interrogate you, I've just never heard you sound like this before."

"I know, 's okay. But I promise I'm alright. I still need to take you to the aquarium this weekend, remember?"

(Y/N) immediately brightened up at the reminder of their weekend plans. "Yeah, so you better not be sick then. I have to see the sharks."

"Trust me, I know. You've said that almost every day since we booked the tickets." His voice took on a faux-exasperated tone, as if he couldn't wait to be done with their plans for no other reason than she would stop bringing them up.

A peal of laughter left her lips as she curled up on her couch, getting more comfortable now that she was talking with him. "You're so mean," she bubbled, "This is what I get for worrying about you? Maybe you should be sick and I'll just go alone."

"As if you'd drive yourself there."

Yeah, he was definitely feeling fine.

—————

While she was disappointed, (Y/N) wasn't surprised to see the lack of voicemail left for her when she rolled over on Friday morning. On the phone the night before, Harry had told her that he had another early morning coming, and it wasn't a secret just how rundown he was feeling. She had hoped, in the back of her mind, that he could be feeling well enough to send her a message in the morning anyway, but she couldn't blame him for opting to sleep a little bit longer before heading out the door.

Nonetheless, she still sent him his own good morning text, hoping it would brighten his day and remind him that it was finally Friday. He'd made it through the week and could now look forward to their plans.

morning honey!! i hope you have a better day but its friday!!!! we get to see each other tomorrow!!!!! text me when you can love uuuuuuu

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she proceeded to start her own day. Maybe, on the way to campus, she'd stop and get herself a matcha latte. It really had been a long week.

—————

just went to study in the quad and it started raining AS SOON as I sat down:( I had to run and take all my stuff back to my car:( and I think I forgot my favorite pen on accident :(

Pressing send, (Y/N) added her new lunchtime message to the string of blue messages she'd already sent that had gone unanswered. Even the read receipts hadn't flipped to anything other than delivered since her morning text hours ago. Of course there had been times where he hadn't gotten back to her by the time she had sent another text, as well as the other way around, this was just slightly out of the range of normal.

Being with him for almost a year allowed her to learn some of his schedule. She knew what his day to day must look like, just from the fact that he usually texted her, called her, or made plans around certain times of the day. It wasn't hard to pick up on the fact that around eleven-thirty he took a small break from his morning paperwork because that was when he would send her a message if he could. His lunch was always placed around twelve to one, something she learned because that was when he would ask if she wanted to come visit him, or he'd place a call to her while he ate. He left the office at the same time everyday, sometimes a little earlier and sometimes a little later.

With the time blinking past one-thirty with no phone call, text, or even the reading of her messages, (Y/N) didn't want to be worried but she was.

There were so many things that could have gone wrong, she figured. Her list of scenarios started with his phone breaking beyond repair, and ended with her sitting in a hospital waiting room. More than half of her worries were irrational, but that was unfortunately how her brain operated at times.

Without second guessing, (Y/N) pulled up Harry's contact before pressing the call button. As it rang and rang, she knew what the outcome was going to bet but she still hung on to the final trilling noise until it finally ended. The generic voicemail greeting played in her ear before she tapped the red end button.

Rationalizing herself, (Y/N) had to remember the way he had talked about how busy today was going to be for him. This week was all about prepping for a large conference meeting that would be taking place on Monday, including hours of paperwork, presentation reviews, and running in and out of meetings with other executives. While she thought she knew his day-to-day schedule rather well, that didn't mean that day like this wouldn't force him to deter. It was more than just a possibility that he really was that busy that he wouldn't be able to get back to her before he left the office.

He would call her when he could.

—————

goodnight! i hope youre okay honey just text me when you can

I love u

(Y/N) wasn't even sure how long she looked at her phone screen, waiting for the receipts to change when she sent her final message for the day. The thread consisted of blue messages she had sent through the day, no response in between. Her call log had three unanswered calls on the list, all outgoing to Harry.

It wasn't until six p.m. rolled around without a single response from him that she was unable to fight back the worst case scenarios she had rolling around her head. This just wasn't like him. He never stayed that late at the office. There was no way that through over twelve hours, that he didn't have a single second to even react to one of her texts, even just a short one telling her that he was okay but would be staying late.

Dropping the phone to fall in her sheets, her hands limp at her side, (Y/N) stared up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Even if all it came down to was that he was so overworked that he fell asleep as soon as he made it home, that thought didn't exactly soothe her. It was scary thinking that something could have been so intense—work, meetings, preparations for the following week—that he didn't even have the mind to text her during his lunch. She just hoped he was alright.

She'd give it until the morning, she decided. Sunday was their aquarium date, and if she didn't hear from him by lunchtime tomorrow, then she was going to go to his apartment and see what was going on.

(In a very small part of her mind, a place she had shoved to the very back after everything with Andrew and Iris had been flushed away, she had the insecure thought that he could possibly, maybe, perhaps be ghosting her. While she could never imagine Harry, the king of communication, to go the route of ignoring her as a breakup option, that logic didn't necessarily win out against irrational insecurity).

Hopefully, giving him the night to rest and recuperate would be exactly what he needed, allowing him to get back on his feet tomorrow and reach out to her with everything she missed the day before.

Now, she just needed to figure out how she was going to get to sleep.

—————

There was no way she was going to get to sleep tonight.

Her brain was too preoccupied to settle, that much was apparent. She pretended as if she wasn't waiting for a notification to vibrate her phone with the way she picked up the book she was borrowing from Harry, barely reading any of the pages. She scrolled through her socials, distracting herself with videos and posts or whatever was fed to her to keep her from pulling down the top bar and checking for any messages she could have blinked through. More than once during her attempts at staying away from her phone, rolling away from her night stand and nestling into the sheets, she reached for it anyway.

This cyclical routine led her to stare up at the ceiling at one in the morning, phone at her side lest she get a message and not hear the buzz for whatever reason.

The later the hours got, the more her brain went wild. What if something happened and no one knew to contact her? What if he was really trying to break up with her through ghosting? What if no one even knew he was hurt in the first place and Harry was alone, scared? What if, what if, what if.

Throwing her comforter off her body, (Y/N) sat up in haste. She fit her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants before she was trekking through her apartment, heading to her kitchen. Flicking on the light, she stalked towards her cabinets as if she wasn't itching to grab her phone. Pulling out a glass, she filled it with water and took a long sip. Hoping the cold temperature would soothe her brain and settle the unease in her stomach, she stayed in her kitchen, leaning up against her oven, as she drained the glass.

When there was nothing left in the glass aside from a few drops and her anxiety was still flitting through her veins, (Y/N) felt restless.

What else was there to do? There was no way to fix this problem, but she couldn't see herself getting over it enough to actually get any rest. Her body had convinced herself something was wrong even if she tried to reason with herself otherwise. There was no way she was going to be able to beat out the quivering her stomach and rattling of her brain with logic.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked once more for a notification that wasn't there. Swiping through to the text thread itself, she saw it was still the same string of unanswered blue texts sitting in the black void.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shifted her weight where she stood.

Would she be crazy to even consider going to his house right now?

She, unfortunately, couldn't stray her mind very far from the awful possibility that something could have happened, that Harry could be needing someone, and that was why he hadn't been able to contact her. It was a completely irrational, worst-case-scenario mindset, but one that couldn't be tamped down for very long.

(Y/N) just wanted to make sure he was alright.

That was all she could think of when she pushed off of the counter, heading towards her bedroom with a purpose. She tugged on a heavy hoodie, the oversized shape blending with her sweatpants, before she slid on a pair of slippers. She pulled her hair out of her face into a messy twist, chunky clip on the back of her head. Grabbing her keys and bag, she didn't give herself enough time to second-guess anything before she was beelining towards the front door.

By the time she made it to her car, key in the engine and dash lights illuminating the space, (Y/N) was convinced she'd lost it.

Nonetheless, she backed out of her space and started towards Harry's home.

—————

Using the key Harry had given her months back, (Y/N) let herself into his house. The lights were off throughout the space. His shoes were in a neat line along the wall, his jacket carefully hung up, and his work bag set up by the door like usual. Everything was immaculately perfect, as if he took his time and didn't rush a single step. (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth.

She set her bag down by his, kicked her slippers off the same, before peering around the living room. His kitchen was clean as far as she could tell, no crumbs or even takeout containers on the counters.

Her stomach sunk as she scaled his stairs. She was officially acting insane, wasn't she? Harry was obviously fine, and she just couldn't let him have a day to himself, could she? This is what happens when she obsesses over things, she ends up looking like a fool, and it—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks as she stepped into Harry's room, the door having been cracked before.

In his bed, Harry was curled up in a bundle of wrinkled sheets. Large comforters were draped over his form with more sitting on the end of the bed. A sliver of his face could be seen, his brows furrowed in distress with his forehead shimmering with sweat. The lump of bedding shook as he shivered underneath the mountain of down. Did he know his teeth were chattering? Did he know he was making these slight whimper tones?

With her concern skyrocketing, (Y/N) crossed the space to his bed in quick strides. Up close, she could see the flush on his cheeks, the dry skin of his lips, the way he had his arms bundled over his chest as if he was still freezing under all the blankets and the hoodie he had on.

And he said he wasn't feeling sick.

"Harry?" she murmured, crawling onto his bed as she reached to place a hand on his forehead. She cringed at the feel of the damp skin, too hot to be healthy. He didn't even stir at her disturbance. "Harry?"

In a fluttering blink, Harry suddenly woke up, a hurried gasp filling his lungs. It took a moment for him to catch his bearings, his eyes darting around the space before they settled on her. His gaze was bleary, unfocussed as he attempted to take her in.

"(Y/N)?" he croaked, voice crackling and dry.

No wonder he couldn't call her, he barely had a voice. (Y/N)'s heart cracked just a bit as she looked at him, settling on his bed with her legs folding up underneath her.

"Hi," she smiled at him, hoping to soothe him just a little, "I thought you said you weren't getting sick remember?"

"Yeah," he answered in a breath, his eyelids going heavy once more as he sunk into the bedding, "I don't want to be sick."

"I know," she murmured, "But it's going to be okay, we'll get you better again."

A slight curl landed on his lips as she spoke. "Are you staying?"

"Of course, I am," she promised, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands off of his forehead. Harry happily pressed into her hand, seeking out her warmth as another shiver wracked through his system. As sweet as she thought it was, she was less than impressed with just how intense his fever was. "When was the last time you took medicine?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, voice thick as his eyes shuttered closed, "I don't know if I have any."

"Harry, you're joking." He had to be, really. There was no way that her responsible Harry didn't have any kind of cold medicine at his disposal.

A smile once more tugged at the corners of his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged, "I can't remember."

(Y/N) sighed, knowing she was going to have to ransack his house and try to find any kind of medicine she could get him to take when he was a little more lucid. Until then, she was going to start small.

"Have you been drinking water?"

"Don't know."

Harry shivered as she looked towards his bedside table, finding not even a half finished glass of water waiting. She had reason to assume that he hadn't been lucid enough to even remember to hydrate during this whole thing.

"(Y/N)?" Harry crooned, voice too thick to be comfortable.

"Hm?" she hummed, carding her fingers through his hair once more.

Keening into her touch, he spoke with his eyes closed. "I'm tired."

"I know," she murmured, brows pinching when another shiver wracks his body, "You can sleep, honey. I'll find some medicine for you, and everything when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, completely compliant to whatever she had to say. Shifting under her palm, he turned his head until her palm was grazing the planes of his face. He puckered his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, honey."

She watched as a sleepy smile bloomed on his features before he sunk into his pillow, heavy blankets set on his form. He was out, just like that.

Watching over him, (Y/N) felt a guilty sense of relief as she saw a shiver roll down his spine. She didn't like seeing him so down, obviously out of it with fever chills going through his body, but this was a decidedly nicer outcome than the panic scenarios she had swirling through her head.

Giving him one more pass of her fingers through his hair, she backed off his bed. She doubted he would be sleeping very soundly, so she didn't have much time to go through and find all of the things he would need to get him through the night.

His bedroom door was left cracked open as she padded through his home. There was no way he didn't have any medicine laying around, she was sure of it. She just needed to find it.

"Shoot," (Y/N) murmured under her breath, fumbling through the cabinet in his first floor bathroom.

She was going to have to call the aquarium in the morning and reschedule their reserve tickets.

—————

"Harry? You've got to wake up for me, honey."

Harry wanted to open his eyes, he really did, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't. He was too tired, too cold, too enveloped in his vivid dreams.

"Just for a second then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

Taking in a heavy breath through his sore throat, Harry attempted once more to crack his eyes open. This time around he was successful to a small degree, his eyes opening into slits. Everything was a bit blurry, too hazy to make out exact details of what was around him. He was so cold—freezing even. The blankets weren't enough.

Above him, he saw who he was ninety-eight percent sure was (Y/N). There were vague memories of seeing her earlier in the night. He remembered the shape of her smile, the sound of her voice, her gentle touch through his hair. He thought he had been dreaming,

"You're here?" he croaked, deep crackles in his voice.

"I am, yeah," she crooned to him, shuffling closer to him, "And I have medicine for you to take."

"You do?" A sudden chill swept over his form. He burrowed deeper under his covers.

"Yeah, but you need to sit up for me so you can take it and drink some water."

His brow creased her words. "No," he whined, unwilling to abandon his cocoon for something so trivial like water.

"Yes," (Y/N) argued, "You're sick, H. You need to take some medicine so you can feel better."

He shook his head. "I'll get better later."

A soft peal of laughter filled his bedroom. "I think we should get better now, honey. I know you don't like being sick, so this will help it go away faster."

Her logic checked out, really, though it didn't really make him happy to admit. "Fine," he answered begrudgingly.

(Y/N) helped him sit up, his layers of blankets falling to his lap. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the hem of the comforters, his eyes going just a bit less bleary the more he blinked away his sleep.

At his side, (Y/N) was huddled amongst the folds of his bedding. She looked at him with a softened smile, eyes glancing over his features and whatever state he must be in.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching behind herself to grab both the medicine and the water she had waiting for him.

Harry shrugged, his head feeling too heavy. "Tired," he grumbled, "I have a fever, don't I?"

Her smile downturned some, frowning at the edges. "Yeah. I don't know how high, but I think it's a pretty good one," she told him, "So we need to make sure you keep drinking and start taking medicine again."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

A huff of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips again. "I'm sure it will be, but I don't think it'll be much work for you." Before he could compute some kind of retort, (Y/N) was handing him a duo of pills and a glass of water. "Only sip the water, okay? Too much could make you sick."

Her voice was like static in the background as he moved with lethargic limbs, tossing the pills to lay on his tongue before taking down a large gulp of water. He could vaguely hear her scolding him for taking down too much right after she warned him to slow down.

"Sorry, sorry," he told her, throat not feeling quite as rough now that he drank something. "'M thirsty."

"I'm sure you are, but you need to be careful," she told him, her voice a soft soothe as she took the glass from his hand and back to the side table, "Just take it slow. Are you hungry?"

Trying to remember the last meal he had, Harry struggled to cast his mind that far back. While he didn't necessarily identify any hunger pains in his body at the moment, too much else going on, he figured they were buried somewhere amongst the crowded chaos.

"Yeah," he answered, voice thick through his burning throat, "A little."

"Let me go make you some soup, okay? After you eat, you can go back to sleep if you want."

(Y/N) made a move to shuffle off of his bed, but she didn't get very far when he reached out with heavy limbs to pull her back. "'M not that hungry," he murmured, "Stay."

"Harry," she started, her tone turning into a coaxing plea, "I'll be fast, and you need to eat, okay?"

Disregarding her attempt at reasoning, he proceeded to tug her back to his chest. Though he didn't feel particularly strong at the moment, (Y/N) helped by moving pliantly wherever he wanted, even helping him when he shifted them to lay beneath the covers together.

"'M too tired," he said, nosing at the curve of her neck, "I'll eat later."

"Harry," she sighed once again, "I was going to make that soup you like, though."

He only shook his head, pressing the tip of his cold nose into the column of her throat. He buried himself close against her, feeding into her warmth and the comfort the soft curves of her body provided.

"Later," he insisted, her voice slurring and weakening. He puckered his dry lips and gave a small kiss to the shelf of her collarbone. "Stay."

It was when he felt her hands return to his hair, carding through the swirling curls and scratching her nails against his scalp, that he knew he won.

"Alright," she relented, planting her own kiss on the crown of his head, "I'll wait until you wake up, honey."

All it took was shuttering his eyes, lashes glancing over her skin with a slow breath in, that he fell asleep again.

—————

Harry's muscles ached by the time he finished the small serving of soup (Y/N) had made for him, only small remnants of carrots and celery remaining at the bottom. While he was much more lucid, his fever finally having gone down almost a full twelve hours since (Y/N) started feeding him medicine, his body was now exhausted from the fight against his cold.

"This was really good, sweetheart. Thank you," he smiled at her when she came to claim his dishes and return them to the kitchen. In his now empty palms, she replaced the dishes with another duo of pills for him to take.

"Those should get you through the night," (Y/N) explained, "But just wake me up if you need to. I'm hoping the soup will help your throat so you won't wake up coughing again."

That had been the story of his day, at this point. In between the fever, the cold sweat, and the muscle aches, he had barely been able to sleep before he was forced awake by the burn in his throat that demanded he cough until he swore his esophagus was raw.

"Okay," he responded, voice feeling gummy in his throat, "Are we going to bed now?"

Dishes still in hand, (Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him. "Actually," she started, shifting her weight, "I was thinking—if you're feeling okay enough—that we could take a shower? I think it would help you feel better to get all the fever off of you and into some clean clothes."

To be fair, he fell asleep in these sweats Thursday night, and it was now Saturday night with the same hoodie pulled over his torso and heavy sweats that kept him warm through his perceived chill. But the idea of standing up for that long, in a space that hot and warm, already made him tired enough he figured he could fall asleep in an instant.

She must have been able to tell what he was thinking by the soured expression on his face. "We'll be really fast, I promise," she assured him, "I was going to wash your hair and everything, so you wouldn't even have to do anything but stand there."

While he was sure she was bribing him with the promise of washing his hair for him, taking the task off of his hands while simultaneously giving him the gift of feeling her nails scratch at his scalp and card through his hair under the warm spray of water, he knew he wasn't going to win when that offer was on the table. She knew exactly how to get him.

"We'll be fast?"

"Promise."

With a sigh, Harry caved in. "Okay, but if I fall asleep, y'jus' have to let me."

"I'll make sure you don't fall then," she pledged with a proud smile on her face, "I'll be right back and then we'll go upstairs."

—————

"Too cold," Harry grumbled, his bare skin erupting into goosebumps under the spray of water.

Reaching around his back to adjust the temperature knob, (Y/N) turned it up just a bit more. By her preference, the water was plenty hot, especially apparent with the amount of steam filtering through the room already, but she figured he was still fighting off a few chills.

"Is that better?" she asked, quickly pulling her hand out of the stream.

"Almost," he murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

His skin was quickly turning red under the temperature, but he seemed to revel in it. He threw his head back under the water, wetting his curls. His arms were barred over his chest, but she could still see the way he pulled in a deep breath, the sauna-like atmosphere cleaning his sinuses. She allowed him to luxuriate in the feel, hoping his muscles were relaxing as much as she knew he needed.

"Which shampoo do you want tonight?" she asked, looking towards the built in caddy he had in his shower, the cubby full of both his and her products.

"Yours," he answered automatically, his voice sounding much less clogged after reveling in the water.

With a soft smile, she retrieved the bottle, aware of the way Harry turned to offer her the back of his head to run the cleanser through.

"Fast, right?" he murmured just above the sound of the pounding water.

"Fast," she promised, sudsing up her hands before she was going through the soft curls with her shampoo.

Though normally Harry would have leant down for her to get better leverage and not have to reach too far above to wash his hair, she couldn't blame him as he kept the full of his height. His back hurt enough some days without having a cold running through his system, it didn't help when his muscles were pinched with fever chills. Nonetheless, she stood to the tips of her toes and did as best she could to get him back to feeling more like himself.

It didn't take long for the cherry-scented bubbles to start scenting the steam, wrapping around them in sweet ribbons. She smiled at the way he practically melted at the feel, rolling his neck and allowing her more and more coverage of the shampoo. It was a silly thought, but for a minute she felt as if she were playing as his hairdresser. Was she supposed to do small talk with him?

The thought had a huff of laughter puffing through her nose.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, his voice sluggishly warm.

"Nothing, just something silly," she told him, pulling her fingers from the silky suds of his hair, "Rinse your hair and we'll wash one more time before conditioning, okay?"

"Okay," he answered absently, turning to place his hair under the rinsing spray, the bubbles running down his skin.

(Y/N) couldn't help herself, following the string of bubbles that ran down his chest, flushed skin slick from the steaming water. If this shower were under different circumstances, she would have taken it upon herself to trace that line of bubbles with her own hands, but that would have to wait, she decided. The lines of his muscles were attention grabbing, but there was something in it that made her feel sad for him. It wasn't fun to see him, knowing just how strong he was, to be reduced down to shivers and half-lucid conversations all from a small cold.

With his hair rinsed free of all the bubbles, he looked to her, curls draping down around his face. "Again?"

"Again," she affirmed, "Then we'll finish up and go to bed."

A soft smile touched the corner of his lips. "Okay."

Repeating the motion of washing through his hair once more, reviving the pattern after days of enduring his cold sweats. When she gave him the go ahead to rinse down once more, she could see just how slow he was moving again; lethargic limbs heavy.

"Which body wash are you thinking?" Though she had an inkling that he would choose to utilize her products again, she still thought to ask.

Instead of getting an answer, she was surprised with heavy, tattooed arms wrapping around her middle from behind. In her ear, he whispered, "Not yet?"

"Not yet?" she asked, turning in his arms to look up at him, "I thought you wanted to go fast?"

Gazing down at her with hooded eyes, he looked at her with flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "I don't want to leave right now."

"No?" she asked with a beaming smile, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. She looped her arms around his middle, setting her palms on the slick skin of his back. The water sprayed down on her hands, the temperature no longer bothering her.

"No," he said, murmuring over the thrum of the water. A silence settled between the two of them as he gave her a slow blink, his gaze drifting down to the curve of her lips. "Kiss?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a pout, her hand on his back running a soothing circuit over the planes. "I don't want to get sick, H."

"You won't get sick," he tried to tell her, bringing his hand up to cradle her cheek, "I promise."

"How can you promise that, hm?" she prodded, teasing him some with her pout turning into a tender smile.

She seemed to have stumped him some, watching as he rolled her words around. "I don't know," he settled on, "But, I'll take care of you if you do."

With that, he dipped his head down and brushed the tip of his nose against the side of her own. The lilypads of his tired eyes were close enough for her to pick out the varying shades of clear green, the wet clumps of his lashes a dark frame around them. It was hard to say no to him, especially like this.

Tipping her chin up, she pressed her lips against his. It was a soft, innocent kiss that lingered for only a moment. It broke off when she could feel the curl of Harry's smile.

"Is that enough?" she asked, nuzzling his nose in a puppy's kiss.

"Almost," he murmured, "But I'll wait until bedtime."

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh, pulling away to rest her cheek against his chest. His skin was blazingly warm, aided by the steaming water still scenting around them. He hugged her close, his arms a loose loop around her with his nose grazing the top of her head. His heartbeat drummed a soothing rhythm under her ear, a comforting reminder that he was right here, right with her. After the hours she went worrying and building anxiety over his state when she hadn't heard from him the day before, feeling the solid build of his body and the steady heartbeat under her ear, this was more relieving than she was sure he even knew.

"(Y/N)?" he asked after a moment.

"Hm?" she hummed, snuggling that much closer.

"Are we still going to the aquarium tomorrow?"

Blinking her eyes open in an instant. She forgot to call.

—————

thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if theres any ideas anyone wants to see pls send them in:)))

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itgirl-111 · 9 months

Text

THE BEST MONEY AFFIRMATIONS (aka facts)

(this is gonna be the only money Affirmations you'll never need lol)

I am rich

I am financially stable

I'm secure in my financial state

Money is safe

Money is good

Money is here to stay

I'm a money magnet

I have the perfect money mindset

I have the perfect self concept on money

I love money and money loves me

Money is the easiest thing to make

I have multiple sources of income

I am wealthy

I genuinely believe I deserve a lot of money

I deserve a luxurious, comfort, fun filled, lifestyle

I am worthy and deserving of having lots of money because I exist

I get money everyday

I get paid to exist

I am worth every cent I get

I get money quickly and easily

People always have enough money to give me

People bend over backwards to make sure I'm getting paid enough

Nobody goes to sleep unless and untill they make sure I'm getting paid enough

Everyday I just make more and more money

Me and the people i love are rich af

My bank account never stops getting fatter

I am so rich i make Elon Musk look poor

I am so rich my hands are starting to smell like money

I wake up every day and go to sleep stress free knowing that I don't have to worry about money in my life

I am living wealthy and abundant life

I keep finding money everywhere

No matter where I go money always keeps chasing me like a lost puppy

If I were to count the amount of times I got a huge amount of money out of blue, I wouldn't be able to count it cuz it's too much

My fingers are starting to hurt because of the amount of times I counted my stacks and stacks worth of billions of cash ugh 😫

I have so much money in my bank account that the value of pi π looks small

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, 7 OUT OF 7 days I get money.

12 OUT OF 12 months I get money

there's not a single day that goes by without me getting money

Any amount of money i spend comes back to me tenfold

I walk into a shop knowing damn well I could buy the entire shop if I wanted to

I have so much money I can use it instead of a toilet paper (jk i don't do that)

I have so much money I can make origami out of it

I have so much money I'd buy the biggest companies and still remain rich as fuck like?

I am the definition of LOADED 💵

I am independent, successful, wealthy, rich, self sufficient, financially secure, debt free, stress free, yep I identify with those things.

My notifications are flooded with me receiving payments constantly

If anyone is a FATASS it is my wallet

Money is so desperate to stay in my life

Every where I go even to the damn toilet I still can never escape from lots of money😔

Money keeps flowing to me like a river

My bank account digits are the most groundbreaking, immense, tremendous, huge, back arching, toe curling, digits ever known to human kind😞

If i spent a whole day counting my stacks of cash, i wouldn't be able to cause that will take atleast a million years...oops...😳

Whether it's expected or unexpected, whether I'm happy or sad, sleeping or awake, working or not, money comes to me all the time and In all the ways.

#money affirmations #moneymindset #law of assumption #neville goddard #manifestation #manifesting #loassumption #affirmations #affirm #affirmyourlife #affirmdaily #manifestingreality #manifestyourreality #master manifestor #self concept #self concept affirmations

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sohnric · 3 months

Text

gold stars – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers au. fluff. a sprinkle of hurt/comfort in some parts, a hint of college au!!

wc: 9.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mention of toxic family behaviors, a joke about a praise kink. eric is an embarrassing loserboy but i love him sm

listen to: risk by gracie abrams

where everything eric sohn does is search for your approval, and where you reward him with a gold star sticker for every act of kindness. will you ever see him as more than just a friend?

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading as always (i miss you deeply btw</33). also thank you @from-izzy for brainstorming with me and listening to me while i gushed about this silly fic idea. thanks @strayed-quokka lennon for giving me eric's insta username idea i will keep using it from now on in all fics AHAHA TT

If Eric was asked to pinpoint the exact moment where he started to rely on your validation, he wouldn’t really be sure of his answer. The truth is, somewhere deep inside of his soul, he knows the yearning has been there ever since he can remember, but the instance that is rooted in his memory as the core one– the one that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a teenager in love for the first time (which he wasn’t! Nor a teenager, not in love for the first time… right..?) – was one Thursday afternoon after he came home from taking his last exam of the semester to find a message from you waiting in his Instagram DMs.

Breathlessly clicking at the notification (and now, this should’ve been a sign of his growing feelings for you), he is welcomed with the sight of you sharing a post with him. Wholesome, but still a little silly, a picture of a yellow star poorly drawn onto a white background waves at him, the words ‘congratulation the stress didnt abolsultly kill u’ written in the Comic Sans font on the inside, making him giggle. Despite the typos and the poor grammar, his heart squeezes on itself, shaking his head at your adorable antics as he shoots you a quick message as a thank you. You’ve been helping him with the studies for the last couple of weeks (if constantly yelling out “you will murder this exam, Sohn’ and laughing at his miserable face counts as support), so it’s even more heartwarming to see his friend still be so supportive of him even after the hell already ended.

@ damnsohn [5:11 PM]: thank u i will now need to receive gold stars for everything tho

And see, he wasn’t really thinking before sending that message. He just needed to convey his gratitude without sounding too overly eager– without sounding too infatuated with your sheer existence and the validation of his efforts. (Failed)

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually follow up on his request.

To make things even better, you pulled through with physical reminders. The poorly drawn golden star landing into his Instagram DMs was just the start of the habit you fall into with Eric Sohn, the man whose love language is words of affirmation– without him even realizing it. And so, what started out as a wholesome, innocent joke, now turned into a recurring thing that is slowly, but surely making the boy go absolutely insane.

The first time he receives a physical golden star sticker is one day when he comes over to your place to watch a movie with you. You made a list full of iconic films you haven’t seen before– a list you get clowned for at first dates with any man that is pretentious enough to talk about his love for Quentin Tarantino (Eric told you to stop going on dates with the aesthetic, ‘indie’ looking men you find on Tinder) – and little by little, you try to get through it with the help of the rest of your friend group. Since everyone gets bored easily of mediocre films they’ve seen before, Eric is the one that spends the majority of movie nights with you– and that’s only because he’s the only one that doesn’t mind watching the Titanic for the fifth time already, if it means he can spend some time with you.

“You brought popcorn?” you gasp upon his arrival, gazing at the plastic bag in his hold, eyes big and full of stars– one would say you were looking at your first love. You weren’t– it was just a salty treat. Isn’t that every girl’s first love, though?

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Pre-popped?”

“Pre-popped,” he agrees as he takes off his shoes behind the door, watching as you jump up and down in excitement, taking the big bag out of his hands.

“I like it pre-popped the best, oh my god,” you hum, hugging the huge bag like it’s a teddy bear, going as far as pushing your cheek against it, making your face turn into an adorable pout. “They are a little stale and softer and–”

“And the salt is really settled into it’, yeah, I know, Y/N,” he snickers, finishing the sentence he’s heard you say about a million times already– he starts to wonder if you have short-term memory loss and don’t remember telling him every time you walk by the cinema. (And that’s a lot of times, since Sunwoo’s dad owns the place. Sometimes, Sunwoo makes Eric be his own delivery man– he would deny on most occasions, but ever since he learned that bringing Sunwoo his lunch to work means he can take home a bag of cinema popcorn, the one that admittedly, always tastes the best, he doesn’t complain much– he can use the stale bag as a leverage to make you do about anything.)

“Oh man,” you sigh, “aren’t you a dream. I was going to wait for a more serious occasion, but wait, let me just–” you say, running quickly into your room. Eric doesn’t question your antics, figuring out that he will know the reason for your disappearance soon enough anyway, and allows himself into the living room. Two cans of coca cola and a chocolate bar are already waiting on the coffee table, alongside the TV remote, and while he passes the couch and opens one of your kitchen cabinets to fish for a bowl to put the popcorn in, he hears your socked feet rumble against the floor, announcing your arrival.

Once he takes the big bowl he’s sure he’s seen you puke in before after a wild night out and settles it onto the kitchen counter, the bag of popcorn comes back into his view as you lazily throw it into the white plastic, still closed and sealed, waiting to be opened. As his hands move and go to rip it open, meaning to pour the snack in so you two can share while you watch the next movie on your list– which, just for the record, Eric never asks the title of before, afraid it might make him less excited for the movie night– you put something onto the back of his hand, giggling.

Eric curiously stops his movements, gazing at his own skin. There, shiny and glittery, is a sticker attached to his limb– a yellow star sticker, to be exact, making him look at you with a dumbfounded look, eyebrows furrowed, but lips still sealed into a wide grin.

“That’s a gold star for remembering my favorite snack,” you point, flicking his forehead as a way of swatting him away from you so you can open the bag yourself, “and for bringing it.”

When Eric doesn’t give you any coherent reply– despite his brain operating on a thousand miles per hour, thoughts just swirling around and silencing any rational words– you only laugh at his face, your nose scrunching in that adorable way that makes him want to reach over and squish both of your cheeks in between his fingers, crying out.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so serious about this,” you sigh, snickering. Eric was going to bring up the fact that you were the one serious enough about the sentiment to buy a full roll of star stickers to give him on various occasions, some more serious than others, but he kept his silence in fear of getting this advantage taken away from him. He doesn’t think he’d survive it. “If you manage to not eat the entire bowl before the movie starts, I’ll give you another one. Come on,” you call for him, body already disappearing back into the living room.

Eric follows you like a lost puppy. If he had a tail, at this moment, he would’ve been waggling it. After he drops to the sofa, he notices the movie paused on the TV in front of him to be none other than Dirty dancing. With a sigh, he recognises that he’s seen it about five times already with his mother and sister, and so he spends the hour and a half gazing at the star on his hand instead.

The next few stars he receives are gifts of a similar manner. Half-serious, but still enough to make Eric’s heart leap in his chest at your recognition.

One day, he says a joke in the middle of the conversation that nobody really appreciates. And see, it’s not really unexpected– he was already aware that his friend group doesn’t appreciate good humor– but the dead silence he receives after the lame joke still makes him feel kind of awkward. That’s only until he is greeted with the sound of your muffled chuckle, though– which is of amusement at the situation, and not his joke, just for the record– and the sight of you ruffling around your pockets. You take a roll of stickers out of your jean jacket, and before he knows it, a star sticker is glued onto his phone case, right in the corner of his phone laying screen down on the table.

“A gold star for trying,” you hum, making the rest of the group holler out a laugh at the casual bullying, “not as bad as last time, keep it up, buddy.”

Eric gets red in his cheeks. When he looks up from the dark wood of the dinner table, he is met with the sight of Sunwoo and Juyeon looking at him with shit-eating grins on his faces, wiggling their eyebrows at the very obvious reaction Eric has at the half-assed praise. The boy wonders if you’re the only one that hasn’t noticed yet, or if you just don’t really care about the effect you have on him. The star sticker stays glued to his phone case at all times, though, even when it’s worn-down and peeling off at the edges.

Another gold star is won from you one day when the semester starts again and you two meet up in the library, working on your respective essays. Each of you major in a different thing, so there is not much actual help shared other than underlying emotional support, and despite the coffee Eric brings you upon his arrival and the bag of chips resting on the table waiting for you to munch on them, which you refuse to touch before you finish a segment of your essay to ‘motivate yourself’, as you say, he can see you’re still a bit stressed out.

The suspicion is only proven to be true when he speaks up suddenly, lost in thought and a little overwhelmed himself. “How do you spell ‘accommodate’?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

He now admits that it’s a stupid question to ask, but somehow, getting advice from you is much easier than looking it up himself, or simply writing the word down to let Google docs do the editing. The answer you give him is short, sharp, and the tone of your voice stings the boy the tiniest bit. “Are you 5 years old, or something?”

“I–”

“I’m in the middle of writing an important paragraph, Eric, just Google it–”

“Jeez, okay,” he hums, rolling his eyes at your snappy composure. When your eyes meet only two seconds after, you look a little guilty. You say nothing, though, only continuing to focus on your essay– and Eric does the same, for the most part. (While he also tries to take his mind off the fact that you might think he’s a little bit stupid. You are a STEM major, after all– he’s the one studying media.)

After a while of typing away on your computer, though, you look at him with big eyes, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The subtle nerves and desperation in your face are enough to leave the man weak in his knees, and even though he’d like to reply to you in a similar manner to show you his disapproval with your previous tone, he can’t find it in himself to ever reject you as you mumble out a soft: “Switch?” having the man instantly nod, offering you his laptop.

This is standard practice for the two of you. While he doesn’t really know what you’re talking about in your essays– for all he knows, you could be pulling everything out of your ass– he enjoys reading the words you’ve written. You two often work on your essays together and switch from time to time to reread what the other one has so far– on a lookout for wrong word order, grammar, or anything sounding weird. It’s hard to rationally evaluate your work and find flaws in it after spending hours and hours on it, your brain desensitized to the content you’re writing. Having a helping pair of eyes is always for the better.

When the both of you are done and you switch the laptops back, there’s a gold sticker smiling back at him from the device settled right next to the Kirby sticker you’ve given him once after hearing him gushing about the game one night (Yes, he was tipsy and sentimental). He didn’t even notice you putting it on, and when he looks up at you with questioning eyes, you shrug at him, averting eye contact.

“A gold star for spelling ‘accommodate’ right,” you say, making the boy roll his eyes, snickering.

He doesn’t really question you further. Just the star sticker is enough for him now, if he’s being totally honest– even as unserious as they come. Had he pried more, though, maybe he’d find out that the gold star wasn’t just the prize for his spelling– but also for his patience and silent support he’s been sending you every single day.

And so, the habit preserves itself at first in a joking, half-serious manner. A gold star sticker for him when he reminds you to water your plants (‘for having a good memory’). A gold sticker for him when he carries you home on his back after you get too drunk at the bar with your friends (‘for having strong muscles’). A star sticker for him when he picks you up after work and drives you home (‘for having a cool car’). Another one when he cooks you ramen when you’re sick and don’t have enough energy to make yourself something warm for dinner (‘for being a 5* Michelin cook’). For his birthday, alongside with other things, you give him a strip of the gold star stickers, 5 in a row all next to each other– ‘for bearing the old age well’. He’s not even that much older than you in the first place, but he takes the external validation and praise with open arms, not really dwelling deeper into the sentiment underlying your joking, unserious reasonings.

He doesn’t really realize the stickers were a sign of gratitude for the fact that he listens to you and remembers what you have to say– not for having a good memory. They are for taking care of you on your lowest– not for having strong arms and a ‘fat ass’. They are a wordless thank you for his acts of service and protection of you, not for having a cool car and getting his driver’s license– although, the pride is the common undertone in some of the gold stars you give him. You give him gold stars on his birthday to tell him you’re proud of the man he’s growing into, not to make fun of him growing old. The boy is just too oblivious to realize it, it seems.

Some days are more difficult than others, though, and that’s when your star stickers gain more value and seriousness.

The day after he has a family reunion with the distant relatives that always pry too much into his business– ‘Do you have a girlfriend yet?’, ‘What will you end up doing with that useless degree of yours?’, ‘Do you still share a flat with that friend of yours? What about getting your own place?’ – he is met with the sight of you waiting for him after class, on one of the bean bags outside of the lecture room. His department is a solid 20 minute walk away from yours, so the sight of you there surprises him, but the shock is only intensified when you call him over with a wave of your hand and present him with a pack of M&M’s with a gold star stuck to the packaging.

“What’s that for?” he says, but opens the candy nonetheless. After he takes a few into his mouth, he offers you some– to which you shake your head and shrug.

“For being the coolest one out of your family,” you say close to his ear, like it’s a secret, before you ruffle his hair and stand up from the bean bag, strutting towards the exit. “Come on, I have beer over at my place. You can come over and rant about them being stupid, if you want.”

Eric smiles at your sincerity. Trying hard to tame his hair back into place, he follows you with his backpack hanging off one of his shoulders, and even though he’d love to finish the candy you’ve given him, he forces himself to leave at least three pieces inside of the bag, saving it for later– just so he can keep holding on to the star-adorning wrapper for some more.

One day is particularly hard for the boy as he locks himself out of the apartment, having to wait for his roommate Jake to come back from his hometown the other day, leaving him no place to stay– before you invite him over and force him to sleep over on the couch. You can tell there is something more bugging him, though– and so you push the boy for answers.

“What’s up? Locking yourself out is not the end of the world, y’know,” you say, trying to lighten up the situation.

Eric looks at you with tired eyes, shrugging. Truth be told, his mood has been gradually falling over the last couple of days– this incident was just what really tipped him over the edge and nudged him closer to a nervous breakdown. He’s been overwhelmed with work (too many people having high expectations of him that he is scared he cannot meet), with school (too many assignments he is afraid he can’t manage to get done in time) and also with his family constantly being at his neck about everything he does and chooses for his future– only fueling the burning pit of anxiety and insecurity crawling outside of the big hole inside of his chest.

“It’s nothing,” still, he notes. “I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time, really, ‘s all.”

You answer him with a slight pout of your lips, a saddened expression taking over your face. There is sympathy oozing off your presence, and Eric can’t tell if he dislikes it, or yearns too much for your caring words and gentle encouragement. He can’t tell if it’s natural or pathetic, to want, to need your compliments and validation so much– or if he’s just fallen into a hole he can’t crawl back out of, too hungry after every bit of your attention. You’ve completely enchanted the boy, made his heart both soft and erratically running whenever you’re around, and the things he constantly does for you are not only because he wants you to tell him he’s doing well, but also because he wants you to think of him as someone that you can lean on. He wants you to think of him as someone good enough for you.

Today, though, maybe he just needs a bit of validation. Maybe he just selfishly strives for your encouragement. It’s okay to just want to be loved on from time to time, no?

You coo, taking a seat next to him on the sofa you’ve spent countless movie nights on together, slotted side by side. Eric plays with his fingers in his lap, a heavy cloud hanging over his face. You know your friend isn’t really good at talking about his emotions– something akin to a mental block inside of him preventing him from ever fully opening up– but despite it all, it seems like he’s completely see-through in your eyes, handling you all the unspoken words on a silver platter. You know him too well.

“You’re doing well, Eric. Don’t let the doubts get into your head, yeah?” you hum, meeting eyes with the boy.

“Am I, though?”

The face you give him is stern, acting upset with him. “Of course you are! Stop saying that,” you shake your head at him, sighing when he doesn’t comply with your hard love. After a heartbeat of silence, you turn your head away from him and face the turned-off TV, instinctively wrapping your arm around the boy first, tucking him to your side, before you cradle his head and move it so it sits in the crook of your shoulder.

Patting his hair, ruffling it and gently playing with the strands before you move to scratch on his scalp, the actions all unarm the poor boy. He almost feels like he could cry and fall apart right there in front of you, right there in your hold, but his pride is oftentimes bigger than his need to let it all out– so he just stares ahead of him, teething at his bottom lip in silence.

After a moment, you rustle around your pocket with your free hand, seemingly searching for something. Eric watches you with curious eyes, big eyes reminiscent of ponds of water waiting to overflow when you take out a strip of star stickers from the inside of your sweatpants, gently taking one of them and sticking the golden star onto the fabric of his pants, right on his knee, before patting it affectionately.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice a bit hoarse. He’s glad you don’t mention it.

“Just in general,” you shrug, hand coming back up to play with his hair, “a gold star because I’m proud of you.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of, though..?”

“Of course there is!” you argue, raising your voice at him. He doesn’t make much effort to show you that he agrees or understands your point, so you gently take his hand into yours and wave it around in mock-joy– although you’re kind of serious about the sentiment. “Proud of you, because you’re alive and surviving! Yay!”

Eric snorts. It’s not enough to cure his mood completely, but it warms his heart up enough to make him forget about his tears.

“Do you just carry these on you at all times?” he asks, pointing towards the sticker on his leg.

“You never know when you need them,” you innocently agree. After your continuous doting, the boy finds himself falling asleep on your shoulder. When he wakes up in the morning, there’s a blanket thrown over his body he didn’t see in the room before, and he feels a thousand times better.

So far, Eric’s never asked for the gold star stickers. They always come to him by your initiative– and although he has to admit that sometimes he does stuff for you and expects a reward for it (in the form of the sticker, of course) – he never once begged to receive one himself. Sometimes, you surprise him. Sometimes, it’s obvious there is one coming– like after he helps you send out your psychology survey to every single person he knows (and he knows a lot of them. He is a born extrovert, after all.).

Much like the day of his football match.

He’s not really the biggest fan of the sport– he much prefers baseball, but his university no longer has a baseball team and he needs to get additional credit somehow– but when you add up the fact that it makes him popular with the fact that he ends up spending time playing around the field with his friends and over the course of the season gets actually better at the sport the more he practices, it’s not as bad as he expected.

The last match of the season turned out well– with their team winning– and although Eric wasn’t the one in charge of the winning goal (damn Kim Sunwoo and Jake Sim for collectively beating him to the victory), he was still ecstatic about the whole thing. After celebrating with his teammates, dubbing them up and screaming in victory, his eyes scan the crowd to find the rest of his friend group that he knows is there, watching him and Sunwoo play. (In reality, he’s just looking for you– he won’t admit that out loud, though.)

Running up to you with sparkles in his eyes, he watches as you cheer on your other friend, Sunwoo, when he beats him to the bleachers. (Not cool of him, if you ask Eric. His crush is literally right there.)

The taller boy enthusiastically talks about the match– as if you, Jihoon, Ryujin and Jay haven’t been on the bleachers the whole time, watching– and after a while, Eric hears your enthusiastic praise aimed towards his best friend, making his blood turn green in envy.

“Yo, that goal was so good, though!” you gush, patting Sunwoo on the shoulder.

“I know, right? Jake passed the ball to me in the perfect time, that other guy couldn’t even register what was happening,” he boosts, grinning to himself.

All attention is drawn on Kim Sunwoo, and Eric doesn’t like it. Not when it’s your attention we’re talking about. He doesn’t care if the whole university drools over the handsome fire sign (as if he doesn’t have a girlfriend anyway– although Eric is still surprised by the fact, after the way he treated the part-timer at his father’s movie theater in the first few weeks of their acquaintance). Believe me, Eric is completely content standing in the shadow whenever someone gushes about Kim Sunwoo, the star player of the team– until you’re involved, of course.

So, he sulks. And it’s apparent– or at least he thinks so. It doesn’t seem to clock in with any of his friends, though, as they all walk away from the football field, aiming to celebrate together in the cheap restaurant downtown. Eric walks behind the group like a lost puppy, and it takes exactly 5 minutes and 35 seconds (not that he’s counting) for you to finally notice the absence of his lame jokes and loud comments to just about everything.

“What’s up?” you ask when you trail behind the group to join his side, laughing at the pout on his face. “You look like you just lost the match. Which you didn’t. Not sure if you caught that…” you joke, bumping your hips with him.

“Well, you seem to be acting like it,” he comments, his words leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Huh?” you ask, genuine confusion tinting your expression. “We’re literally going to celebrate, I don’t get what you– is this because you want that stupid star sticker?” you cut yourself off mid-sentence, the boy already too readable to you after so much time.

Eric gasps in shock. He’s not really sure what he wanted out of mentioning it so openly to you, but to be called out like this surely wasn’t on the list. He feels heat rising to his cheeks with lightning speed, his eyes averting your gaze in the instant. Maybe the voices inside of his head were right. Maybe he is embarrassing.

“Well,” he shrugs, only digging the hole under himself deeper, “did I not do well too?” he mutters under his breath, the humiliation fully settling into his bones after you laugh straight at his face.

“Wow…” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “If I knew I was fueling your praise kink this much with the stickers, I would’ve stopped a long time ago–”

“I don’t have a praise kink–” he screams, battling you as you suddenly scramble after him with the sticker on your finger, waiting to be plastered somewhere onto his figure. He’s sure the whole commotion heard his poor attempt at defending himself, but he’s not willing to back down without a fight– anything to prove that he doesn’t depend on the stickers as much as one would think. He doesn’t want the sticker anymore. He doesn’t need it.

As you fight him and womanhandle him on the street, though, hands all over him, trying to get close as he desperately tries to push you away and fight the allegations, he finds himself unarmed when you get in close proximity of his body, pushing him against the wall. He’s sure he has more muscle power than you do, but the mental power in him is lacking– he just can’t make himself push you away from him. Your face is close to his, your breathing tickling his nose. His heart is stammering hard against his chest, your hands still clutching his wrists against the wall, making him feel like a horny teenager. His breathing is heavy– he doesn’t think he’s done much physical labor, though?

Before he has a chance to collect himself and physically unglue his eyes off your lips– glossy and pink, inviting him in– you make the boy’s brain short circuit even further when you lean close to his ear, whispering so no one else can hear.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, by the way.”

You know just which buttons to push. Maybe you’re a bit sadistic– with how knowledgeable you are of his feelings, but of how much you’re enjoying him being completely oblivious to the fact that you’re aware. You have him at your mercy, all yours to keep, his heart all yours to play with and scan in the palm of your hands.

A star sticker is pressed into the skin below his ear, right at the pulse point. With that, you unstick yourself from the boy, running back to the rest of the group. It takes Eric a moment to collect himself enough to rejoin his friends– so much he has to run (which is good, in hindsight– at least he has something to blame for his breathlessness)– but after this, he swears he’s never asking for validation from you ever again.

It’s too dangerous.

Almost as dangerous as you trying to ride his skateboard for the first time, it seems. He’s met with the fact only two weeks after the football match. When you texted him and convinced him you’re going to be fine and that he should definitely bring the board with him when you hang out later in the day– ‘I’m not a five year old, I can handle it! I bet it’s going to be fun!’ – he didn’t really expect you to be this bad at it. You seemed a little too confident for him to believe otherwise, and, well, in Eric’s eyes, you are perfect at just about everything.

This really shattered the image of you he had in his mind. Not in a bad way, no– the man has and always will worship the sheer ground you walk on– it’s just that more than admiration, the feeling flowing through his veins right now seems to be adoration. Eric always admired your every move, every single sentence that ever came out of your mouth. But now, he just can’t seem to contain himself as he watches you stumble over your own feet and try to balance yourself on the unmoving skateboard in the middle of the empty park, hands waving around your figure in a desperate need to not fall over and break your neck. (Which would never happen under Eric’s watch anyway. His reflexes are fast.)

“You look like a baby learning how to walk for the first time,” he gushes from the bench, your bags waiting at his feet. A wide grin is plastered onto his face as he watches you, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the constant stretch of the muscles.

“Very funny,” you sigh, stumbling over once again, making the board move with the kinetic motion of you stepping off of it, leaving Eric to stop it with his outstretched leg.

“You were so confident before,” he shakes his head, mocking you.

“Well, I tend to overestimate my abilities sometimes,” you shrug, a pout slowly appearing on your face as you move closer towards the male, obviously going to sit at the bench next to him. “It’s whatever, I don’t feel like skateboarding anymore–”

“You’re giving up already?”

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not,” he shakes his head, standing up and offering you his hand to take so he can bring you back up to your feet, “never back down, never what?”

“Eric, I’m not going to finish your TikTok references right now–”

“I said never back down never what?!” he hollers, forcefully tugging you to a standing position, the sigh escaping your lips only fueling him further with his ridiculous antics. “Never give up! That’s right, Y/N, very well. Now, let me help you, I promise it’s not as hard as it seems.”

“I mean, given the fact that even you can do it–”

Eric flashes you a stone cold look as a warning. He doesn’t really think the teasing is at place right now– you’re the one not capable of keeping balance on the skateboard. It’s not like you have any right to joke right now.

“Okay, I take it back.”

“Leave the jokes for when your legs don’t look like a freshy born horse’s with how much they’re shaking when you’re up on this thing, yeah?” he chuckles, hearing you snort out a laugh at the accuracy of his comment.

Eric should’ve known he was the one miscalculating his abilities to efficiently teach you how to skateboard before the act itself happened. He didn’t, though, and the thought only occurred to him the moment you started latching onto him like a koala to its favorite tree– all just so you could hold balance on the board beneath your feet.

Your legs are a little shaky– and so are Eric’s hands when they instinctively land on your waist as you latch onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. The boy is painfully aware of the layers of clothing preventing him from touching your bare skin, yet, his fingertips still tingle as they bear into your midriff, holding you steady and preventing you from falling.

“Now, this isn’t so hard,” you conclude, chuckling. Eric doesn’t find it in himself to look up at your face, knowing he’d go painfully red the second your eyes would meet. The close proximity of your body still makes him shy sometimes, despite the years of friendship you share, and so he keeps his gaze glued to the ground instead, clearing his throat before he speaks up again, trying to seem nonchalant and casual.

“I’ll move now, yeah?”

Without really waiting for your reply, his feet shift their position on the ground, dragging you across the road with him. Gentle steps at first, making sure you’re not too overwhelmed, then picking up speed so you move a little faster on the board. “Will you be okay if I let go?”

“I don’t know..? Hopefully…?” you say, voice wavering a little, nerves seeping through your tone.

“I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry,” he hums, feeling how you squeeze his shoulders for one last time before he lets go of your waist, watching the way you slide away on the skateboard. The pace isn’t too fast, yet, it’s still enough to make you grin widely at the boy, your body now used to the feeling, balance finally finding its way to you.

“Do you want me to push you around for a bit?” he offers, relishing in the way you nod eagerly at him, the grin on your face making his heart squeeze on itself. If he could carve the muscle out of his chest and offer it to you, he would. In his eyes, you deserve everything in this world– how could he not just try and give it to you, little by little, all by himself?

Light steps nearing your figure, he gently pushes you in the back, watching as you slide farther and farther away from him. Every time he gently nudges you in the right direction, he earns himself a hearty giggle from you, the motion making you feel free and reckless– just like teenagers do when discovering the activity for the first time. “I was right! It’s fun!”

Eric can feel himself relishing in the moment fully. Your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and he wishes he could engrave the sight of it into his memory forever. He knows that’s not possible, though, and so he pledges to try his hardest to make it appear on your face so much and so often that he has no chance to forget how it looks.

After you’re done and exhausted with the day, Eric makes it his quest to get you home safely before heading to his place. You complain about your feet hurting, and although the boy is doubtful of your whining, he still offers to drag you home as you stand on the skateboard, holding your hand the whole way. When he’s almost at your apartment complex, he feels the familiar star sticker glued to the back of his hand before you intertwine your fingers with his, running a thumb proudly over the gold plastic.

“A gold star for being a good teacher,” you note when your eyes meet, making the boy chuckle.

“Shouldn’t I be giving you one for being a good student? Is that not how things usually work?”

“I give credit where credit is due,” you hum, nodding to yourself. “Besides, that’s not only for that. I just…” you trail off, as if too nervous to say the next words. “I just wanted to show gratitude to you, ‘cause I had a really good time today,” you say nonchalantly, still, shrugging. Eric feels his stomach churning. How can you be so casual with saying words that make his heart skip a beat?

“I should show my gratitude to you more often too, y’know.”

You shake your head at him, laughing like it’s funny. “Oh, Eric. You do it so often you don’t even realize it. You just have a different way of showing it than I do.”

Eric averts his gaze from you, chewing on his bottom lip in nervousness. He starts to wonder if he’s been too obvious with his feelings. Do you see him differently now?

The questions almost drown him out on the way towards your house. Somewhere along the way, he realizes the act of holding your hand feels natural to him now. Gazing at your interlocked fingers, he smiles to himself. He could get used to it– all of it.

He could get used to the people smiling at him and you on the street when they see you with fingers interlocked. He could get used to holding your hand every day, keeping you close. He could get used to your touches, hugs and skinship. He could get used to waking up to you in the same apartment as him, like that one time he locked himself out and you let him sleep over at your place. And to a certain extent, he already has gotten used to you– all of you.

He’s used to texting you every day. He’s used to seeing you multiple times a week– because if he doesn’t, he misses you a little too much. He’s used to your movie nights and dancing with you in bars, shielding you from the looks of other greedy men wanting to get a piece of you. He’s used to the gold stickers you constantly provide him with as a gentle reminder of the unsaid feelings shared between the two of you. He’s used to your presence and your energy, he’s used to your teasing words and the memes you send in his Instagram DMs. If you were suddenly removed out of his life, he knows he’ll find it hard. It would feel like a piece of him was missing.

Some days, he tries to make himself believe that he’s content with what you two have right now. And he is, for the most part– but deep down, he knows he wants more. He always wanted something a bit more.

It shines through his actions on most days. It’s visible to everyone– the longing looks, the gentle touches. Jake once said Eric would jump out of a window if you asked him to, and after careful consideration, the boy had to shamefully agree with his roommate. Eric gets laughed at every time his cheeks blush when you give him too much special attention. He’s used to being called the ‘lover boy’ whenever you’re around.

In front of you, he tries to hide his feelings as much as possible, though.

Sometimes, it slips out of him, though. In moments where the day slowly comes to its end and the atmosphere turns more tender. On days when the movie nights get moved to his apartment, because it’s closer to your university and you claim you’re too tired to walk all the way back to your place. Eric claims you’re just lazy, but the pout on your face tells him otherwise.

On days when there is no one else in the apartment, just you two, and your conversation dies down. The boy is usually a chatterbox when it comes to watching movies with you– commenting on every single scene, making fun of the characters, teasingly spoiling bits and chunks of the plot for you– but it was a Friday night and you were snuggled up in your favorite hoodie, your bodies stuck tightly to each other on the sofa. There is a cloud of comfort, a huge curtain of intimacy falling over you two, and Eric is afraid that speaking up would ruin the sentiment.

After a few minutes, he feels your head lay on his shoulder. The crown of your head is instantly more interesting than the movie playing on the TV, his eyes glossing over your relaxed expression. There is hair falling into your face and your eyelashes are kissing your cheekbones, your brain no longer focusing on the movie, but slowly dozing off instead. Eric mentally coos– it’s not often you fall asleep next to him, and so he somehow finds himself treasuring the moment. You look so peaceful, so beautiful– yet so unaware of it. His heart squeezes with tenderness, making sink a little into the sofa cushions so you’re more comfortable in using him as your head rest. He knows waking you up or moving you so you’re resting against the back of the sofa would be more convenient for your neck, but he selfishly relishes in the fact that you found comfort in the crook of his shoulder instead.

He can’t help but smile widely at your composure. You look small and vulnerable. You look like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Eric indulges in the fact that he’s not watched right now, letting himself fully enjoy and admire your sheer existence.

He acts on impulse when his lips softly land onto your forehead. Not much thought goes into the sentiment– he just sheerly answered his heart’s calling.

You look dreamy. You look lovely. He’s in love with you, he thinks.

He lets himself settle deeper into the couch cushions. After no longer having to entertain you with his comments on the movie he’s seen 4 times already– The matrix– he finds himself bored enough of the familiar plot to doze off himself, forgetting about the promise he made to you to drive you home after the movie is over.

He sleeps through your smile and the shake of your head, as well as you detaching your head off his shoulder, smiling at the unaware boy. Not yet asleep– just resting your eyes for a bit– you were a witness of the boy’s tender, loving ministrations. You disappear out of the apartment after the movie is over, crossing paths with Jake in the entrance hall giving you a quiet wave and a point towards his roommate sitting on the sofa, a gold star adorning the tip of his nose.

You just shrug before leaving. Jake just shakes his head at both of you, wondering when your time will finally come. Eric wakes up in the middle of the night to the TV off, asking himself if he should consider the sticker a silent invitation.

And after a while of careful consideration– laying awake and wondering of all the what-ifs, replaying every moment spent with you over and over in his mind, looking for the very obvious signs of reciprocation– he decides to just go for it. He decides to be the brave man he claims he is, and finally makes the first step.

Well, at least tries to. Because as it turns out, it’s much more difficult to invite someone out on a date if you’re already friends with them for a prolonged amount of time. Not only is it more nerve-wrecking, but also much more confusing to the other party– and after inviting you out to get boba in the new place downtown, he’s not so sure you are aware that you’re on a date with him.

Not that Eric expected anything to change between the two of you instantly after going on a date– no, he’s completely fine with the dynamic you two have, and it’s one of the things he values the most about your friendship– he just thought the atmosphere would be… a little different.

Which is why he decides to start dropping not so subtle hints about his intentions. Brave, isn’t he?

First of all, he pays for your order. All after the 20 minutes you take standing outside of the boba store searching through the menu to find out what you’re going to get– and although Eric finds it endearing, he is also starting to get a little nervous.

“Didn’t know you were so indecisive,” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m not!” you grunt, shaking your head at your own antics. “I just don’t know what tastes good together. Should I just get one of the premade drinks on the menu? But I’m not really in the mood for any of these–”

“I’ll just get you a random one,” he sighs, “and you will have no other choice than to drink it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then at least you have someone to blame,” he snickers, pushing the glass door open and entering the quiet boba store. He orders you a kiwi bubble tea with strawberry popping pearls– because he knows you enjoy how they come apart in your mouth– and after he comes outside with both of the drinks in either of his hands, he waves you off when you ask him how much yours was so you can pay him back.

“It’s on me,” he hums.

An over-exaggerated sigh escapes your mouth at that. “You’re paying? You never pay,” you exclaim and take the straw in between your lips, ready to taste the drink. You and Eric both know that what you said is a lie– he has no issue with paying for you, and he brings you random treats all the time– but for the sake of the next line, he decides to go along with it.

“Well, today is a different occasion, I guess,” he shrugs.

With that, you stop and stare at him with stars in your eyes, a teasing smile slowly overtaking your lips. You’re not stupid– you’re not oblivious the way he is– and so Eric thinks you finally got the hint. Or, at least he hopes so. “Is it?”

Suddenly too shy under your gaze, cheeks tinting light pink, the boy averts his gaze from you and walks down the street, expecting you to follow him. He might be brave enough to drop hints, but still not brave enough to admit to it explicitly.

Not when he drags you to the park and sits with you on the bench, people watching. Not when he casually drops his arm on the back of the bench behind you, gluing himself particularly close to your body. Not when he lets you try his drink, battling away the annoying voice inside of his head telling him that you just shared an indirect kiss. (‘Come on, Eric. You’re not a teenager anymore. Get it together.’)

He doesn’t admit to it in words, but he sure does in actions when he gives you his jacket when the evening gets chilly. He swears you look the most adorable in his red windbreaker, and in a moment of weakness, he puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street, a selfish need of having you close to him winning above everything else.

“And what was so different about today, Eric?” you ask on the way to your apartment, gazing up at the beaming boy next to you. Are you teasing him again? Do you enjoy watching his misery?

Eric figures it’s for the best to tell you, though. He thinks it’s important to set the tone– because after today, it’s almost like nothing changed at all. The dynamic stays the same– and while he doesn’t think he hates it, he admits he’d just rather call you his.

So, despite the embarrassment, he chews on the bottom of his lip. You’re almost at your place already, and so he thinks it won’t hurt to talk about it now. If things go wrong, you can just go home and he can run to his apartment and violently cry into his pillow.

“Well, I was thinking…” he starts, clearing his throat to buy himself some time and also trying to bite down the excessive nerves clawing at him from the inside, “I… you… I was hoping this wasn’t just like… a regular day out, you know…?”

Blinking at him a few times– because you must love to torture him, there is no other explanation– you shake you head at him. “No, Eric. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Eric physically tears himself off you, your apartment complex now directly in front of him. Cracking his knuckles and taking a deep breath in to calm himself, he tries again. “I meant to… invite you out on a date today,” he proposes simply.

And in that moment, it’s like the whole world stops turning for a minute. Not only do you not give him any verbal answer, but your expression also stays the same as before– completely stoic and neutral, giving him no window into the way you feel about his suggestion. And you know what they say about Eric Sohn– he talks too much. Not only in situations where it’s inappropriate, but also in moments where he feels like there is nothing better to do than to fill the suffocating void that is the silence hanging over him– much like right now.

Eric rambles. “And- and I know I should’ve said that before making you go with me, but god, you don’t know how hard it is to make it clear to you that I’m trying to be more than friends with you without sounding absolutely fucking awkward!” he sighs, wetting his dry, chapped lips.

“And I’m sorry if this changes your view of me, or something, but trust me, our friendship means to me so much more than just trying to make you date me, that was never my intention behind things, I do everything out of care for you, because you’re– you’re just everything to me–”

After the last line, he hears you chuckle. Your eyes finally meet, and he feels like he wants a car to run him over approximately 15 times to make sure all his bones are broken and his skull is smashed into pieces– he’s sure it would be more comfortable than the situation he put himself in right now.

“That was so cheesy,” you say, Eric’s stomach making a flip that might as well force acid up his throat. He won’t throw up, he won’t throw up, he won’t embarrass himself even more–

His hands shake. Suddenly, you take them into yours.

He watches you carefully, ready to be let down. You step closer to him– surely, you’re going to give him a comforting hug as you tell him he read all the signs wrong and you don’t feel the same– before you lean into him, face inches away from his. Blinking, Eric suddenly registers your lips locking with his for a mere second, a soft, sweet caress of your mouth on his not giving him a chance to react– a chance to reciprocate– before you pull away, making him freeze.

“You always make things more complicated than they need to be,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Uh…” he lets out, like he lost all the words in his vocabulary. It’s the first time Eric Sohn has nothing to say– and it feels like a miracle. In reality, he’s taken aback and still processing.

The sight of him like this only makes you grin wider. It’s no question that you find him adorable like this, so bashful and surprised, cheeks turning red and lips slightly ajar, big eyes staring into yours. “Cat got your tongue?” you tease, letting go off his hands and placing your palms onto his cheeks instead, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. His brain might be blank right now, but his orbs still hold so many emotions– ones that make you soften and cave in on yourself, overflowing with tenderness. Hands automatically resting on your waist, Eric holds you close to his chest.

“Put your mouth to use in a different way, then,” you joke, watching the boy in front of you go into factory reset.

Lips crashing against yours, the boy kisses you like you’re his lifeline. Chasing after you, he puts all the words he’s said before and the ones he keeps hidden inside for now into the action, having you melt in his hold. He feels your breathing on his face, making him deeply aware of every detail, of every miniscule shift of your figure, every tiniest movement of your lips and the almost inaudible sound you let out when his teeth tug on your bottom lip as he pulls away for air, being a little overly-excited.

Foreheads resting together, the two of you in your own little bubble no one gets to peer into even on the busy street, Eric watches as you look down and take something out of your pocket– something he so deeply recognises, making his heart thump a thousand miles an hour, if it wasn’t already.

Another kiss is given to his lips– for good measure– before you press another one to the tip of his nose and one more peck into the middle of his forehead, making his legs feel like jelly. You follow your lips with the star sticker attached to your thumb, sticking it to your lover’s skin.

“That’s a gold star for being adorable,” you say, making him roll his eyes. “And for the nice date.”

“Don’t I get one for being a good kisser too?” he pries, watching as you scoff at his prideful question.

“I don’t know, Sohn,” you shrug, “I’m not sure yet, but I could be convinced–”

He cuts you off by locking your lips again, ready to prove you of his abilities. With the gold sticker proudly glimmering on his forehead, he realizes that maybe you were right– and all along, it has always been this simple.

#deoboyznet #bjnet #the boyz #eric sohn #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #eric sohn fluff #eric fluff #eric x reader #eric sohn x reader #tbz scenario #tbz fic #the boyz scenario #the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #sohn youngjae #youngjae x reader

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

Text

So...

I've been doing some thinking about a couple of things.

This blog has grown considerably, even from its start and I appreciate each and every one of you so much. Your support never ceases to amaze me and I owe all of you a lot for giving me something to focus on this year instead of spiraling into insanity.

But

Things have gotten a tad bit overwhelming recently between trying to run the blog and trying to write. I find myself either having to ignore the blog to get writing done, or sacrifice writing time and energy to spend time on the blog and keep up with all the replies/reblogs/asks etc. Definitely not complaining, you all never cease to amaze me.

But, I am just one person and my brain only has so much power right now. So, I'm planning to take some (more) time off each week right now while I focus on writing and planning since we're getting into some serious plot stuff soon. So I'm planning to be on the blog three days a week for a while: Saturday, Sunday, and Thursday. That gives me some time to get some writing done as well as some time to rest my brain.

Saturday and Sunday of course to post the chapter and respond to replies and reblogs so I don't get super behind. Monday I'll have some asks queued up as well as maybe a few reblogs. I'll still use the queue Tuesday and Wednesday for reblogs/asks with spoilers as usual. Thursday I'll be on the blog answering asks from Monday - Wednesday as well as things I get that day. I'll queue up a few things for Friday since that day gives me a little break between to prepare for the weekend and posting the chapter.

I'll probably add more days as time goes on. You can still send in asks on the days I'm gone, but just know I won't see them or respond to them until later in the week. I already get behind by a couple days on asks anyway so that's not much of a change.

Don't feel bad for sending them either, I love getting all these asks, I just tend to get behind on days I spend more time writing.

The second order of business

has to do with my taglist. Most of you probably haven't noticed (which I don't blame you lol) but my taglist has gotten very big. Very, very big. It's just over 230 people right now, and I'm sure there will be others asking to join. It's quite time consuming to do all of these tags for every chapter (especially since we can't tag in blocks anymore) so I've been doing some thinking into how I can make it easier for me, and for you.

I know there's at least one blog I've heard of, though I'm sure there's more, that have made side blogs that they have people follow and turn on notifications for and just make a post on that blog when they post a chapter or fic, etc. I've been considering doing that since the taglist is a lot of work and time.

I've also seen blogs that have side blogs that just post chapters/fics and nothing else. I know quite a few of you only follow for the fic, so if anyone is interested, I could put together a side blog like that as well that you can follow and get notifications from instead of having to follow this blog and having to go through the probably 100 posts that I make a day 😂 (at least it feels that way for me)

Having a separate blog for the taglist too would allow me to schedule posts so I can have them come out a bit earlier than I get up for those of you across the world who stay up to read and have to wait for me to post in the morning when I get up (or later like today because I slept in). Of course Ao3 will get posted later because I can't schedule posts there, but at least for Tumblr I can have things post earlier.

So let me know what you think about the taglist side blog and the possible just chapters/fics side blog. Feel free to send in asks (anonymously or not) with your opinion. I might not answer them all (not tonight because my brain is fried and honestly i'm not sure if this is even comprehensible English) but I will at least use them to make the decision (or make a post with all of them and answer it as just one).

#more than likely i'll be doing the taglist blog just for my own sanity #and wrists #I'd tag everyone on the taglist in a post on that blog just so everyone sees it #also will still use the taglist for a chapter or two so everyone can have a chance to follow there #also don't feel bad for asking to be on the taglist #it's just gotten very long #and scheduling posts is so nice #it was very handy last year for Kinktober #anyway let me know what you think

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bixbiboom · 4 months

Text

So. Life update.

Today (technically yesterday now) was the first day of my final year of my fourth decade. Happy birthday to me.

I take my duties (even self-assigned ones) way, way too seriously, and running this blog was killing me. Literally. I was given doctor’s orders to cut back on social media (actually she wanted me to cut out social media, but we compromised), and a very beloved friend actually paid me to take the month off. So I did. I turned off all my social media notifications, unfollowed a lot of ppl, muted a bunch of servers, and told my source suppliers I was going on hiatus.

Since the beginning of May, my daily average time actually using my phone has gone from over 17 hours to just seven hours, my blood pressure has gone from the 150s/90s range to the 130s/70s range, and I’ve stopped having nightly nightmares and daily coughing fits. I’m also walking 19% more than I did last month, and every doc appt shows I’ve lost more weight since the last one. I’ve also started writing again for the first time in months, and I’ve churned out over 10k words this month.

So I’m cutting way, way back on the CR content. Still a critter, still watching every week, ask box is still open for chatting, you can tag me in on questions if you want. I’m still actively participating in the fandom and keeping up with the goings-on. But I’m not referring to myself as a source blog anymore. Back to a mixed bag of whatever grabs my fancy, like a normal human person, while I try to become one of those again.

In other news, I’m getting a new kitten at the end of next month! A friend rescued a pregnant cat and I’ll be taking one of the litter when they’re old enough to leave their mama.

I don’t know which one I’ll be picking yet (I haven’t actually met them in person, mama’s a nervous kitty and still settling in to her new home and I don’t want to stress her out by showing up out of nowhere and handling her babies), but odds are good it’ll be one of the torties.

If anyone is so inclined, I’ve got »an Amazon wish list« for supplies for both the new kitten and a few things for my older cats, and »my ko-fi jar« is always around. (Also I’m down for suggestions for things the list is missing; my youngest cat is 11 years old, I’ve been out of the kitten game for a while.)

Love you guys, see you on Thursday!

#blogkeeping

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01zfan · 6 months

Text

stress relief | o. sh

boyfriend!shotaro x fem. reader | 6k words

this fic was fueled by a request and a compilation i saw of him using his hands…shotaro we freaking love you. listened to too sweet by hozier while writing this. not proofread.

contains: using toys

shotaro woke up before the sun did. he dreaded hearing his alarm so much that he often found himself waking up before it had the chance to go off. every week thursday’s loomed over him like a dark cloud.

each thursday was shotaro’s dedicated day of the week that he would be in the office from sunrise to sunset. he never considered himself to be an early bird, the exact opposite actually. most days it wouldn’t be until ten in the morning before he could speak, but every thursday he was forced to arrive before everyone else got there.

shotaro would drink his black coffee while walking around the office, assigning roles for next projects. he would be desperately trying to get himself awake while getting clerical things in order before the teams arrived. during the day, shotaro was in charge of checking that the projects he managed were on track to be completed by the deadline. after everyone left, he would spend an hour or so taking notes on current problems in the projects and how to fix them.

shotaro always thought that as he moved up the corporate ladder he’d have less responsibilities, or atleast more people to pawn them off to. but when he became lead project manager he suddenly had more things he was in charge of and his allotment of errors in his work greatly depreciated. sometimes he couldn’t believe he went from being the assistant that was on his phone all day to the leader of multiple teams, and how important it was for him to always be right. shotaro shook his head and rubbed his eyes to refocus on the computer screen. he believed that if he thought about his obligations too much, that nasty habit he had of biting his bottom lip would return.

the sun had gone down when shotaro was able to finally leave. he was the last one out, turning the lights off behind him locking the doors. he sighed heavily, letting his shoulders sag in relief as he made his way down the sterile office hallways. at first he was scared to be in the office by himself at such late hours, but now he couldn’t care less. on thursday nights the only thing on shotaro’s mind was getting home.

on his way home he turned the music up a little higher than usual, drumming along to the beat on the steering wheel and singing loudly. at each stoplight he got impatient, waiting for the light to turn green. shotaro looked to his phone in the empty passenger seat, waiting for his lockscreen to light up from a notification. it wasn’t fair that after the long day he had at work red lights were stopping him from coming home. he drove safe, resisting the urge to floor the pedal to get home faster.

shotaro’s patience was already dwindling when he exited the office. by the time he made it to the apartment building he was almost a completely different person. when the elevators were taking shotaro up to your shared apartment, he impatiently checked his watch each time it stopped on a floor that wasn’t his. something was eating away at him. the something started in his mind when he thought of you. once shotaro got started he couldn’t stop. he spent all day letting the thoughts of you marinate. he thought about you working from home, taking naps, and meandering around the apartment in between breaks. you probably haven’t left the apartment once. you probably hadn’t eaten either. shotaro thought about your routine all day, if you were still sleeping when you had set so many alarms the night before.

shotaro knew you had spent the day sleeping and the night working when he walked through the front door. the apartment was the exact same as when he left it in the morning. the day passed by in the apartment without a single thing changing. everything was still off, the low glow of a computer screen coming from the bedroom being the only light. shotaro shook his head and smiled while setting down his things. all those alarms were useless—shotaro knew you had hit the snooze a thousand times before finally getting up.

he broke your concentration when he opened the bedroom door. your eyes that was focused on the computer screen snapped up, almost embarrassed that shotaro caught you so stressed over work.

when shotaro got promoted in his job, you became the carefree one in the relationship. the one that had the luxury of going to bed at a reasonable time and the one that would wake up for the sunrise. the role you had was easy, funded by your boyfriend who worked a corporate job and bought you whatever you wanted. you still had your own job, one that was remote and you could choose your own hours.

your role in the relationship was something you were very dedicated to. you made the point to give shotaro health tips, to help him destress after a long day. you had been so relaxed you forgot what it was like to be stressed. to have your jaw clenched so hard it felt sore, or to have that feeling of failure loom over you like a dark cloud.

when shotaro came through the door you had forgotten what time it was. you looked back quickly to your phone, where a reply to your boyfriend was unsent in your messages. both of you knew it was locked away to limit distractions. shotaro knew it was necessary but he hated it so much. without your get home safe text he had to be extra safe on the road, and without seeing your face shotaro almost forgot why he was working so hard at his job.

“you don’t have to be so quiet when you come in, ya know.” you said.

shotaro smiled, a hand going underneath your chin to squeeze gently. he knew he was dramatic, but he had almost forgotten what it felt like to touch you. feeling you underneath his fingertips eased the stressed of the day and seeing you smile only made him smile harder. he was always so quiet when coming home late, careful to not wake you. each time he did it you had to remind him it was unnecessary, and each time he shrugged his shoulders before saying it’s a habit.

“it’s late.” shotaro made his way past you to sit on the bed. he plugged in his phone as he sat on the edge, setting it on the bedside table. “i thought you would be asleep by now.” he said.

you didn’t look up from your screen, resting your head on your propped up knee while you continued to type. shotaro watched the back of your head move while you reread lines, trying to make sure you weren’t rambling due to exhaustion.

“got a late start today.” you said.

shotaro hummed, knowing he was right that you got up late. you probably haven’t even eaten, only getting up for a quick snack that burned right through you. shotaro continues to look at your back as he gets himself undressed. he starts with his socks, a checkered colorful pair you got him for his birthday. he went with his dress shirt next, undoing each button slowly and take it off. shotaro got his pants last, making a point to be a little louder taking off his belt and letting the pants fall to the floor.

he was only a little embarrassed to admit how badly he needed your attention. usually it was shotaro coming home to you already in bed, all he had to do was get undressed before sliding into the sheets next to you. it was almost primitive how shotaro instantly felt happy, how the stress from the day melted off of him just by being on the receiving end of your affection. he would slide into the sheets and you would pull him in close, before murmuring that you missed him.

shotaro working at an office and you working from home caused a chasm in your perception of workplaces. when shotaro was in the office, he was professional. he was the leader his company needed, and was serious about his work. in the bedroom, he was needy. he needed to always be touching you, or talking to you. so seeing you treat the bedroom like an office space still through shotaro for a loop. if you had turned around, or stopped typing for a moment just to look back he could’ve been sated. but you stayed focused on the screen, only taking a break to stiffly straighten your back.

when you went back to your hunched position, shotaro felt his fingers start to move. he got up from his side of the bed, walking over to you. he put his hands on your shoulders before pressing gently. you stiffened for a moment before relaxing slightly. shotaro tried not to think about the possibility of you forgetting he was even in the room still when he started gently prodding your back. when shotaro felt the knots beneath your skin, he wasted no time driving his fingers deep until you tried to move out of his hold.

“shotaro that hurts.” you complained.

you didn’t even throw a glance over your back before going back to your terrible posture. shotaro looked at the digital clock. it was too late in the night for both of you to be awake—or atleast too late for both of you to not be in bed.

”you are going to destroy your back doing that.” shotaro said.

he went back to the knots on your back, gently until you eased underneath his touch. shotaro almost wanted to laugh, now it was him giving you tips on your health and him trying to help you ease your stress.

he almost thought you would laugh at it too, but you only continued to focus on the screen in front of you.

“i have to finish this.” you said.

shotaro tried to focus his bleary eyes on whatever work you were doing. nothing could be comprehended by his tired mind. he leaned forward acting like he understood what was on your computer until his face was beside yours.

“you know it’s scientifically proven that your mind won’t retain information past a certain time?” shotaro said.

you scoffed, moving your face closer to shotaro’s until your cheeks touched. you relaxed further as shotaro found a stubborn knot. you stayed in place, letting your head hang forward as shotaro pressed deeper into the knot.

“i need to get this done.” you said still with your head hanging low.

“you have all weekend.” shotaro said quietly.

he continued to work on massaging your back, actively feeling your inhibitions crumble as his fingers continued to do their work. he reached up further, wondering if you could feel the thin bands of his rings press into the bare skin of your neck.

“so tense.” shotaro chided. you sighed, taking your hands away from your keyboard to let them fall at your side. “let me give you a massage.”

shotaro knew he was being too presumptuous when you snapped your head to look at him. he tried to give you the most innocent smile he could muster. shotaro tried his best, but it was hard to feign innocence after hearing your tiny sighs of relief. shotaro felt himself wanting to help you relax the same way you always helped him.

“aren’t you tired?” your eyes were low and bleary as you looked at him. “i’ll be in bed soon.” you said.

shotaro shook his head slowly while he continued to massage your back.

“just for a little bit,” shotaro drove his fingers into your skin a little more, smiling to himself when your sighs of relief got a little louder. “i’ll set an alarm and everything so you can get back to work.” he reasoned.

you looked at the words on your screen, how they stopped making sense a long time ago. you still feel shotaro’s fingers continue their ministrations on your back. the bed behind you looks inviting, and so is the smile on shotaro’s face.

you get up from your seat to look at shotaro. his smile is big, reaching up to his eyes before he goes in for a kiss.

he’s gentle at first, thumb stroking your hand gently. when shotaro tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away.

“only thirty minutes,” you walk over to the bed and shotaro follows behind you closely. when you sit down on the edge shotaro stands in front of you. the smile on his face didn’t falter when you pointed your finger at him menacingly. “and no funny business.” you say.

“what do you mean?” he asks.

shotaro plays dumb, tilting his head while you tilt your head sideways and give him a hard stare. shotaro folds, putting his hands up in defeat as you lay down on the bed.

you lay facedown on the bed, trying to urge your body to relax. you haven’t been this stressed in so long you forgot how to manage it. it wasn’t until shotaro’s hands moved your limbs to the perfect place you felt your body begin to loosen. when you felt him straddled your lower back you had to repeat the motion to get yourself to relax again.

shotaro started high, a little below the space he had been working at since he got home. every part of you felt rigid, brought on by the mental strain of work. shotaro sympathized with you silently—he knew what it was like to have an unbelievable workload that seemed unbearable at times. he also had the luxury to leave everything at work. you had no choice but to be reminded of your unfinished projects each time you looked up from the bed to stare at your computer. when shotaro saw your eyes stay on the screen of your computer he started to become brash. his hands that were over your shirt was suddenly underneath the fabric, running his hands so far down your sides his hand was wedged between your stomach and the mattress. you didn’t stop his hand, or remind him about no funny business. you only let out a content sigh and turned your head back to face the pillow.

“don’t think about work right now.” shotaro said.

his voice was gentle but stern. you gave in quickly, saying an ”okay” muffled by the pillow. you tried to sound even with your voice, but the end of your words had an airy lift. the near whimper in your voice went straight to shotaro’s pants. usually he was better at controlling himself, but the view of you under him going slack and the feeling of his crotch pressing against your ass made him lightheaded. it didn’t help that you had been on shotaro’s mind all day, or that he was able to bring you relief from your stress.

he tried to remain professional, he tried so hard. he tried to not partake in the funny business, but when he pushed your shirt all the way up to your neck you didn’t stop him. when shotaro got up from the bed to grab lotion you let out a pretty whine from loss of contact. when shotaro returned and let the cold lotion spurt on your back you only shivered and made the feeble attempt to reach back and undo your bra strap knowing shotaro would do it for you.

excitement creeped over shotaro’s body, and he wondered if you could tell. he tried his best to not let the tent in his underwear poke you, but shotaro knew that you knew what drove him insane.

he kept part of his promise though, working his way up your back rubbing out the tension until your skin was damp from the lotion.

“so tense.” shotaro says above you.

you only groan in response, letting one of your arms go limp over the side of the bed. it is so relaxing, you think that if shotaro keeps going you’ll fall asleep.

if he listened to what you said, he would’ve just given you a massage until your alarm went off to let you go back to work. but your sighs of relief were so blissful to his ears and the skin of your back was so soft. your moisturized skin had started to glow from the light of your computer skin. shotaro couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about your body glistening in sweat and the toys you two kept in the bedside table called out to him like a devil on his shoulder.

“babe?” shotaro said, still looking at the drawer of his bedside table.

you were nearly asleep, only being able to hum lightly to let shotaro know you heard him. shotaro was silent for a moment, letting his hand drift all the way down your until he rested above your ass.

“can i go lower?” he asked.

you only hesitated a second before mumbling a yes.

shotaro didn’t hesitate moving his legs further down your body, until he could comfortably lean his crotch against your ass. shotaro felt you perk up and preen your ass slightly backwards to really feel all of him. his hands kept you down, kneading your ass over your pajama pants. he wished you were wearing those thin shorts to bed, the ones that were too short to cover all of you. but he would settle for the thin material of your pants.

he kept kneading the skin, until your body started working against his force to put your ass further in the air. both you and shotaro got quiet, driven by the feeling of your bodies touching. shotaro fully delved into the funny business he promised not to do and you were no better.

your ass was grinding against his dick when the alarm on your phone went off. it was blaring and it was loud, overtaking the sounds of quiet pants and breaking through the fog in your brain. your monitor screen had timed out, leaving you and shotaro only in the light of your screensaver.

shotaro quickly grabbed his phone from the bedside table, turning it off while cursing it in his mind. he purposely pressed his dick into you as he moved, dragging it back and forth slowly as he went back to his previous position behind you. if you wanted to get back to work he would not stop you. deadlines were deadlines, and shotaro would always be here. but that did not stop him from leaning forward, so close to you that his breath fanned against the shell of your ear.

“thirty more minutes?” he asked with a smile.

you laughed into the pillow. shotaro felt the bed shift as you pressed your ass flush against his hips. shotaro’s hand gripped your hips and travelled to your stomach, pressing against your skin to perfect your form.

“when has sex with you ever been thirty minutes?” you asked.

shotaro pulled back from your ear, using his other hand to open the drawer of the bedside table. he could see you snap your head to the drawer, laser-focused on his hand as shotaro shuffled his hand around. he knew exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted to see you squirm as he obnoxiously rummaged through, making the metal cuffs clang around.

when shotaro finally pulled out the matching set of pink toys, he could feel you draw in your breath. he was having trouble breathing on his own, the anticipation that was building stacking exponentially. your body stiffened and shotaro could feel the energy in the room change as he purposely took his time dragging the tip of the dildo down your smooth back. you shivered again and shotaro gave you the space to perk your ass up in the air as you took off your shirt and bra the rest of the way. your face was still down and shotaro grabbed a handful of your clothed ass, reveling in your whine.

“this isn’t sex.” shotaro said.

he rested on his haunches and leaned down, so close until he could press his face into your bottom half. when you rubbed your ass against his cheek shotaro put both hands on your ass spreading them. he breathed in the scent of you, something he spent all day thinking about.

“just stress relief,” he reached behind him, putting the tip of the vibrating dildo over your clothed clit. “so you can get back to work, yeah?”

“yeah.” you said meekly.

shotaro laughed and cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your ass before straightening his back. from his space above you he could see how you turned your head, one side pressing against the pillow. shotaro wished he could see your whole face, but he got what he needed seeing your eyebrows stitch together as he turned on the dildo.

the initial vibration made you jolt. shotaro anticipated it, holding your body in place by a hand on your hip. your hands instantly fisted the sheets, letting out a weak whimper.

“so jumpy.” shotaro tsked.

he pressed the button on the dildo before putting it to the side. he knew the instructions to the dildo better than you. when shotaro initially bought the toys, you were too embarrassed to even look at them. you brought the covers up to your eyes while shotaro diligently read the instructions, pressing the buttons over and over to figure out how to use it. you made him keep the toys on his side of the bed at first too, and almost always looked nervous when you had to reach in his drawer for something.

but now you loved the toys almost as much as shotaro did. he would come home from work on occasion and find them missing, hidden on your side of the bed. those were always the best days. shotaro got to show you how to properly use your own toys, and he got to tease you relentlessly when your eyes would go wide after finding out a new function. he would tease you until you wer a crying mess, talking about how you don’t even know how to get yourself off properly with your own toys.

his favorite function on the vibrating pink dildo was it’s ability to warm up. it took a second, but when it was ready it would emulate the warmth of his own dick. shotaro was a modern man and he loved innovation. so while he waited for the pink dildo to warm up he brought the reliable vibrator. it had one setting, and barely worked but it always got the job done.

shotaro slotted himself between your legs, forcing them further apart with his own. you let yourself become malleable underneath his touch, moving to the exact position he placed you in.

“just relax for me.” shotaro said.

he peered over your body to look at your face. when your hand quickly reached back he held it tightly, pressing it against your back. he only needed one hand now to turn on the vibrator, causing you to instantly fidget. you pushed your ass in whatever direction shotaro would pull the vibrator to. shotaro was fascinated seeing you chase stimulation so desperately. when he pulled it away you wiggled your ass, and when shotaro dragged it down your slit you pushed your hips backwards so desperately it made the vibrator prod your entrance. you were whimpering chasing the feeling, only pulling away when shotaro would place it on your clit.

“need you.” you whimpered pathetically into your pillow.

shotaro hummed sympathetically, still dragging the vibrator along your bottom half. he felt himself straining in his underwear, so hard that the precum started seeping through the fabric.

shotaro had the habit of taking out his stress on you in the bedroom. something about seeing you come undone at his hands eased the weight on his shoulders. for some twisted reason, seeing you cum from anything else but his dick helped ease his stress even more. deductive reasoning told shotaro it was probably about control, maybe projection, or maybe taking care of you first made shotaro feel like he was taking care of himself. there were multiple times that shotaro had finished without touching himself, only touching you. he had heard the horror stories from his friends about cumming too early, but once again shotaro was a modern man. he was ready to go again quickly, and was resourceful enough to keep you going long after he was done.

“i’m right here, baby.” shotaro cooed.

he let go of your hand briefly to reach and touch your cheeks. it made your eyes open, and shotaro saw you try to look for him behind you. he moved his body to enter your lined of sight, still playfully prodding his vibrator at your entrance. when your features softened shotaro went back to pressing it into your clit. your high pitched whine went right to shotaro’s dick, bringing him forward to grind it on your ass. the precum that seeped through his underwear got on your pajama pants. shotaro looked up at the ceiling, going back to pressing your hand against your ass. he pressed the vibrator further into your clit, until you turned your head forward and your hand pressed against the headboard.

shotaro watched your body rock against nothing, and he saw your thighs shake. he started gripping your ass again, pulling you back to press against his dick against your ass. shotaro got distracted, feeling you wiggle against his ass. he almost missed your whine talking about how close you were, and how your hand started pushing at the waistband of your pajama pants. shotaro used the last of his self control to bring your waistband down calmly. he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on the swell of your ass, biting with a force that caused you to jolt.

with your pants halfway down your legs you became more sensitive. there was one less layer separating your body from the vibrations of the toy. you couldn’t hide behind the extra layer, turning your head to whine in the pillow when shotaro pressed into your clit. he could see the splotch over your underwear, and when he pressed his finger into your panties the fabric stuck to your folds.

“i’m going to cum.” you whimpered.

shotaro went back to kissing your ass, alternating between sucks and love bites. he used his free hand to bunch your underwear, until the fabric pulled between your ass. he lifted slightly, applying just enough friction to your cunt. you were moaning now, failing to muffle your sounds in the pillow.

“let it out.” shotaro encouraged.

with your bunched panties in his hand he brought it back to your ass, only freeing his thumb from his fist. when shotaro lightly pressed his finger against your asshole your body tensed for a split second before melting underneath his touch. your first orgasm was never loud, only high-pitched whimpers and repeating his name over and over. you almost always relaxed after the first one, losing all force to keep yourself up causing you to slide on the soft sheets.

shotaro could’ve taken you from the back like this for the rest of the night. he resisted the urge to hold your body in this position with his strength while he spent the night relaxing every tense muscle in your body. part of him wanted to fuck you with the dildo then give you his dick until the back of your thighs were glossy from slick and you had to press your legs together pathetically to save yourself from overstimulation—but the way you kept puckering your lips and clutching at the bottom of his shirt made his tunnel vision disperse. so when shotaro guided your wobbly legs out of your pants he let you lay on your back.

you pulled him down to you quickly, wrapping your legs around his waist and peppering kisses all along his face. shotaro smiled from the quick kisses, thinking about how you must’ve stored all your affection up the whole day.

shotaro reached behind him in the middle of your kisses, bringing the dildo to rest beside your head. when your kisses ceased, shotaro brought you in for a big kiss, one that still connected your lips with a string of spit. shotaro broke the string with the dildo, letting it rest on your bottom lip while you looked up to him with blown out eyes. shotaro gave you a simple head nod and you poked your tongue out, laving the tip until it was glossy with your spit. shotaro licked a line down it himself, making you widen your eyes.

he barely gave you time to register the lewd act before he brought the dildo down between your two bodies. he pressed the tip to your clit before dragging it down to collect your slick. you brought shotaro down closer to put your head in the crook of his neck as the wet sounds filled the room. shotaro liked playing with you this way, making you hear how wet you always get. he was almost able to imagine it being his own dick spreading your arousal around and teasing your entrance. your legs that were wrapped around his waist spread apart and you let your hips thrust upwards, desperate to have something inside of you.

shotaro pulled his body away from you until you were forced to look at him. he could see the bleary look in your eyes were wet now with tears threatening to break your water line. shotaro used his free hand to stroke the skin underneath your eye. he watched your big eyes stare at him desperately, flickering down quickly to his consoling smile.

“just relaxxxxx.” shotaro prolonged his words as he slid the warm dildo into your heat.

your mouth was agape taking it all. you almost immediately began squeezing around the toy, your walls still sensitive from your first orgasm. it slid in and out of your with ease, both you and shotaro’s foreheads pressed against eachother to watch the scene unfold together. you swallowed it up each time, and if you looked further past you could see shotaro’s dick twitching in his underwear. there was a wet patch, one that you would have to teasingly bring up later.

you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt shotaro’s eyes look at you. with your foreheads still pressed together you maintained eye contact, biting on your bottom lip when shotaro turned the vibrator on to it’s lowest setting.

you started whimpering immediately and found yourself in the same position of desperately looking for things to hold onto. shotaro found your hand first, squeezing it tight and pressing it into the sheets next to your head.

“so wet and tight,” shotaro increased the speed of pumping the toy inside of you. “i can feel you sucking it back in.” he cooed.

you didn’t know how to respond. any words you could’ve formed turned into quick motions of your heads and whimpers. when shotaro increased the speed of the vibration your whimpers turned into moans and cries of his name.

“you pretending it’s me?” shotaro teased.

you looked down again while shotaro lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. you shook your head, muttering something about how it’s not as good as the real thing.

shotaro felt a pulse in his pants again as he pulled his body up, getting a full view of your entire body. he settled back on his legs to get a better angle and view. from here he could see your chest shudder as your breaths became more broken, and how your leg tensed from the pleasure. you were going through a full body experience, and shotaro got to witness it all. how could he be stressed about anything after seeing this? how could you be stressed after going through it? he was unrelenting and could stop himself from sighing in content. shotaro was coming towards his own climax, just from watching your squirms become more intense.

he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled you closer. shotaro licked his hand and brought it to your chest. he rolled your sensitive nipples between his wet fingers, pinching harder until you brought your own hands to your chest. you placed your hand over his, guiding how you needed him to hold you. shotaro felt his mouth go agape slightly watching you touch yourself. he knew he told himself that he would be doing all the work, but something about both of you coming together to bring yourself pleasure drove him insane. shotaro had to let out a deep breath, he had to save whatever he had left for you. he turned up the speed and went faster, until your hand clutched onto his bicep.

your eyes were fixed on shotaro as his expression got serious. he kept going, letting a glob of spit land on your cunt to add more lubrication. your nails dug into shotaro’s arm and he bit his lip.

“you close?” shotaro said, already knowing the answer.

“yeah.” you moaned.

shotaro smiled and continued the same speed.

“give it to me.” he said.

for a moment you were silent. it was only the sound of your computer fans whirring, the low sound of the vibrator, and the squelching that filled the room. it was you arching your back of the bed and shotaro egging you on, coaxing you to the edge. when you felt the tension snap again your whimpers came out in pants before a cry came from your throat. it got louder as shotaro didn’t stop, still thrusting the vibrator in and out of your heat. your nails didn’t let up in his bicep, gripping him so hard your body shook. your legs closed around shotaro’s hand, causing the leg on shotaro’s shoulder to pull him in. didn’t separate them, instead watching your body react with enchantment fueled by lust.

shotaro didn’t stop until after your frantic head shakes turned weak, and your grip on his bicep went limp. shotaro pulled out the dildo quickly, letting it vibrate on your stomach before turning it off. your full body twitched from the situation, and continued to twitch as shotaro ran soothing hands across your body. he let you lay there limp as you caught your breath and gathered your composure.

“you okay?” he asked innocently.

shotaro asked the question like your twitching body wasn’t his fault. the smile on his face was small, pressing heart shaped kissing on your hot cheeks. your world was still spinning when your snoozed alarm went off again. thirty minutes slipped through your fingers, you weren’t sure if you could even get up anymore to make your way to the computer. your full body went slack, so loose you were almost limp. if it wasn’t for shotaro, you don’t think you could’ve turned the alarm off.

he set his phone back down on the bedside table, hovering over you as he continued to touch you gently. this time it was shotaro giving you a flurry of slow kisses, each one wetter than the last. shotaro helped you come back to earth quicker, silently letting your body gain it’s strength again.

when you were ready, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. you saw his full body, still in his undershirt and briefs. before you could reach for his waistband he spoke.

“i came.” shotaro said.

his confidence in the statement almost made you bashful. you only nodded, swallowing whatever spit you had in your mouth to try and wet your throat.

you words inevitably came out hoarse and quiet, asking shotaro to cuddle with you. he got up from the bed quickly, taking the toys into the bathroom to be cleaned and coming back with a cold bottle of water. you downed it quickly, but not as fast as shotaro was coming back to bed. he didn’t bother to get changed and you didn’t bother to get dressed as you cuddled together above the sheets.

you both knew it was useless getting dressed, you were going to go for another round when the snooze alarm sounded off again.

#requestz #01zfan: shotaro #shotaro smut #riize smut

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fictionalsownme · 24 hours

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i'll be over him when I'm dead okay

I have covid!! or at least my brother has it who I live with and I am very very sick! I'll be fine but I'm staying home from class to avoid spreading it so I finally got some time to finish up some drawings I've been sitting on 🥰 you guys should know I watch every single notification that comes in and smile and gush about them like a creeper so thank you as always, it really does mean a lot!! If I end up testing positive I imagine I'll be out of school for even longer so at least it'd be nice to have some time to draw & write 💞 I really really love how these ones came out, they were supposed to just be sketches and then I just kept going lmao. I've been experimenting with rendering more and more so hopefully you guys like it too! It feels like everyone's getting sick rn so stay healthy everyone! 💞💞 Happy Thursday!!

#kenna draws #who killed markiplier #who killed #markiplier #wkm #fanart #damien #wkm damien #damien whitacre #damien fanart #wkm the mayor #markiplier cinematic universe #darkipkier #jurys still out on if I should be tagging damien as dark but i'll throw it on for funsies #screenshot redraw #markiplier fanart #darkiplier fanart

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amvpk01 · 7 months

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PATHETIC YANDERE

unwanted obsession

when obsession goes beyond admiration, it turns into repulsion and the search for love becomes a path of rejection.

cw: f!reader, non-con, obsession, rejection, violence, stalking, humiliation, kidnapping, manipulation, murder

masterlist || next

Can you imagine someone who is completely useless at everything they do? There's no such thing as good grades, good looks, popularity, or even a good personality. He was a complete shit and he knew it.

It was just another day of him going to school, doing assignments that most of the time the teacher would point out were wrong just to embarrass him in front of the class or that the handwriting was illegible, talking to his pathetic friends just like him, buying something in the canteen and sitting on the benches to eat and look around judging the people.

It was Thursday so it was more crowded than the other days, some familiar faces and others not so much, but someone on the other side of the courtyard surprised him.

A girl with h/c hair and e/c eyes, a pretty face, and a sexy body.

He wondered how someone as beautiful and charming as that could exist. Were you new to the school or did he just not notice you before?

"-Are you there? Dude?? Hello?! Are you listening to me you piece-"

"Calm down bro-"

"Her name?" He interrupted his friends.

"Uh- Who?"

"Pink shirt." The friends looked at the aforementioned girl.

"Don't know, but Giovanna's talking to her, maybe you can ask?"

"...I thought I'd die before I saw you like a girl!"

"Quiet! So fucking noisy. What if she heard you?!"

"Don't worry. It's just that it always crossed my mind that you would be... you know, gay?"

He didn't mind the homophobic comments or the pats on the back along with the laughter of his friends. All that went through his mind was how he was going to get close to you.

You couldn't help but admire your purple nails that matched your fit. It was already a habit of yours to match clothes along with accessories and painted nails. No matter the occasion, you'll ALWAYS be pretty and stylish.

"[Name]?" You looked in the direction of the voice.

"Hi, Gigi! You good?" Noticing her face made you worried. "What's wrong?"

"Well, do you know about some guy who texted you yesterday?"

"Huh, no? All my notifications are off."

"Looks like some guy from my class keeps saying you're ghosting him on DM."

"Oh. My bad, it was not my intention. I think I'll see about that later." You wondered what that guy wanted to talk about. Maybe was someone you already know?

He couldn't believe it that you didn't block him. He thought you had ghosted him but it was just a misunderstanding?!?

'Thanks God... Now I need to talk with her.'

It's been a few weeks since he had the courage and ask you to talk. Every day you exchanged greetings and had long talks that were mostly started by him. You tried to find him attractive or like his personality but nothing worked. Maybe because you already knew his intentions?

But there's something that has been bothering you. Maybe it's just your mind trying to delude you but you swear that someone's stalking you.

And your instinct is telling you that's him even though you don't have proof. You did see a lot of pictures of you on his phone but didn't think he would start to follow you on your way home.

So today you're gonna find out if it's him or not!

You made your usual way home, but you diverted your path to another street that had more shops. Your stalker follows behind you, his face all covered by a stupid black mask and sunglasses.

Maybe you should enter the first shop that you see to know if he would enter too?

Without wasting time, you run into a lingerie store and try to hide further into the store. The stranger only realized the type of store when he put one foot inside, his covered face flushed with embarrassment, and then decided to wait for you outside.

'Damnit! He didn't enter?!' Your thoughts were pure anger and disappointment but vanished when some lady came asking for what type of lingerie you were searching for. Then you got why he didn't.

'NO. NO. NO. NO. JUST NO. DON'T TELL ME SHE'S BUYING LINGERIE TO USE WITH SOMEONE ELSE! SHE SAID SHE HAD NO BOYFRIEND. BUT WHAT IF SHE'S SEEING SOMEONE?!?' He started hyperventilating and his disguise was only making his breathing worse.

After waiting 5 minutes, you come out with a bag in your hands and then speed up your walk. He couldn't lose you from his sight. In his point of view, he was protecting you.

You surely have been running fast, are you embarrassed by someone seeing you in this type of store?

FUCK, DID HE JUST LOST YOU?!??

Surely he saw you walking around that corner-

Oh no...

It feels like you're leaning against the wall just waiting for him. In a fast move, you pulled away his mask. Not being able to hide your disgusted face.

"...What the fuck?"

"Wait- I-I can explain!! It's j-just a misunderstanding! I s-swear! Please, let me-"

"...That's so fucking creepy dude...

If I knew you were like this, I would just ignore you from the start...

Maybe I shouldn't listen to my friends."

He was disturbed that he didn't mind you running away from that place. How could he be so dumb to fall for such a trick? Now, you won't ever talk to him again. Just the fact that he scared you hurt him so much.

You were so kind and pure to him like an angel, and he felt like a demon knowing that you would never want to see him again.

A week has passed since the incident, and he hasn't gone to school, much less left the house. He didn't dare to even see you. Your disgusted face was already haunting him but there's something that he didn't notice before.

'Maybe I shouldn't listen to my friends.'

What did you mean by that? Did your friends tell you about him or something? His phone was getting many notifications, then he decided to pick it up.

A party? Seriously? He wasn't in the mood for this, but locking himself in his home isn't going to make anything better.

He hopes that you go too so he can apologize for his past behavior.

In his own way.

You were relieved, there was no sight of him in school. Mostly like he was who was hiding and not you. You didn't know if he ever felt sorry, after all, you blocked him from everything leaving him with no opportunity to speak and you didn't see him everywhere. Thanks God.

But nothing more than a wonderful party to raise your mood.

If you only know what would happen after this.

part 2 (in progress)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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absurdthirst · 9 months

Text

Services Paid For {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.1k

Warnings: Infidelity, sex work, sex for cash, prostitution, mentions of safe words/limits, blackmail, bondage, restraints, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, toys, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, cock warming, unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol, drunken flirting, spanking, oral sex (female receiving), cum eating, face slapping, anal fingering, anal sex, rough treatment, anger, miscommunication and angst, harsh/derogatory names, apologies, guilt, make up sex, mistress arrangement, sickness, comfort.

Comments: Dave quietly gets the sexual satisfaction he needs by paying for it. No emotional attachments, just sex for cash. Which is how you end up in his apartment, surprised that man what you sometimes babysit for wants to pay for your pussy.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh as you look in your pantry, the bare shelves a painful reminder of how screwed you are. College was hard and the restaurant you had been waiting tables at had suddenly closed after a failed health inspection meaning that your income had stopped.

Reluctantly you pulled out your phone and punched a text to your best friend.

‘So, this escorting thing… you promise that the guy is legit? He won’t make me do anything I don’t want to? And always pays?’

She had told you about a guy she had met on a dating app a while ago, she had fucked him a few times but he didn’t like to sleep with the same person more than twice. No emotions. No feelings. Just someone to scratch and itch and he’d pay handsomely for their discretion.

He had reached out to her and asked if she knew anyone free that weekend because he needed some relief, and she knew about your predicament and said she’d speak to you.

Initially you had refused to even hear it, saying you’d ‘rather starve’ than let some ‘bored two pump chump husband’ fuck you.

But with rent due and your tummy rumbling, desperate times turn to desperate measures.

Dave checks the burner phone. A prepaid cell that isn't tied to him in any way. Bought with cash in some rinky-dink store, not even bought by him. One that was safe for him to use for his various transgressions that Carol doesn't ever need to know about, though he's sure that she's somewhat aware of what he does. She couldn't be that stupid to not guess.

He loves his wife but she's......boring. Unable or unwilling to give him what he wants sexually and not even open to discussing it. Sex is routine, bland. Every Thursday after the kids have gone to bed, he's allowed to fuck her. Missionary, with the lights off, her tits off limits since before Alice was born. He never truly got the release he wanted and he didn't even want anything too shocking. It wasn't like he was into heavy BDSM, just some bondage, spanking and face fucking. He wanted to cum over a woman's tits and have her eat his spend. Or let him bend her over and finger her ass while he fucks her cunt. So now the best option for him was to discreetly pay for it. His last girl had been used too many times but she's said she has a friend who could use the money. So now he's waiting for the text.

‘She’s down. A little shy, not the most sexually experienced but open to being used as long as hard limits are discussed. She’s okay with anal play, but doesn’t want anal sex. No fisting. And no waste play. Everything else is on the table. Doesn’t want to tell you her real name, so is fine with casual endearments. Saturday at 7? Usual spot? Half the cash upfront and the rest as she’s leaving.’

Larissa texts Dave, happy that you’ve reached out for help seeing as you refused her offer to buy you some groceries, at least you’ll be able to eat this way. Dave is safe, not the friendliest or the chattiest but he’s safe. Respects the word no and honors safe words, limits and always pays. The fact he always makes his partners cum and is fucking gorgeous is just an added bonus to what will be a night of pure pleasure.

‘Send her the address. 7 is fine. Tell her to text if she's going to be late or backs out.’ Dave hums in approval, cock twitching as he wonders about this new girl. What she looks like doesn't really matter to him. He's attracted to all kinds of women. As long as she's eager to let him fuck her. It's a release, not a fucking relationship.

He slips the phone back into his briefcase and sighs, checking his watch and striding into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee. Needing to finish getting the girls ready for school so he can go to work.

Larissa sends you the information, and confirms again that you’re in safe hands. You text her a quick thank you before pouring yourself the last of your cereal and milk.

You’re undeniably nervous, anxiety taking the front seat but you can’t help but be excited too. Having never slept with a stranger before makes this new and exciting, and you trust Larissa when she says he’s a good fuck.

Finishing up your cereal, you grab your bag and make your way to class, trying to distract yourself from thinking about what he might look like. You know from the area of the apartment you’re meeting him in that he’s good for the money, it’s a good thirty minute drive away over on the good side of town.

It's a good damn thing that it's Friday. Only having to wait another day before he can fuck away the stress of the week. Maybe this inexperienced girl Larissa knows will let him spank her. Anal's off the table but that's okay. There's a lot he can do to a cunt, a mouth. Even eating her ass would be more than Carol let him do. She barely wanted oral. There were times he wondered if she had a lover but it just seems like she's sexually repressed. Lingering Catholic guilt even though she's not stepped foot in a church in years.

The day goes by in a busied blur, you had agreed to clean up after a meeting for some of the faculty because any leftover food is yours to take home and before you know it, you’re filling up a tray with sandwiches, chips and sweet treats that no one had touched.

On the walk home all you can think about is your plans for the next day, whether you should bring anything and what you should wear. Figuring that if Larissa is telling the truth, you won’t be wearing it for long anyway, but still wanting to look like you’ve made an effort. Nerves flood your system as you round the block to your apartment, your hunger being pushed away by your anxiety. A new constant battle of ‘am I really going to do this?’ Playing over and over in your head.

You settle on yes. You haven’t found another job yet, and you refuse to move back in with your parents.

Saturday morning is routine in the York household. Dance practice or gymnastics, whatever is written on the calendar for the girl's activities. First thing in the morning, followed up by lunch out and ice cream while they play in the park. It's a picture perfect view of a loving family, but Dave is constantly thinking about later tonight. The apartment he keeps for his dirty little habit is clean and ready. He has someone come in every week to change the sheets and dust. He can afford it and his girls never go without. He doesn't feel bad about this. It's a need, just like those massages Carol insists are necessary for her to be a good mother. This is necessary for him to be an attentive and loving husband and father.

You sleep in as late as you can, having spent half the night watching a new series and being unable to sleep due to nerves. Larissa texts you a list of what not to do, and ensures that you won’t ask him anything too personal.

You have your outfit laid out on the bed, a simple pink sundress and a matching lacy pink lingerie set. Nothing too fancy, but enough to show that you’ve made an effort for him.

’This is a one time thing,’ you reassure yourself as you start to get ready, nerves steadily increasing as the time ticks by.

‘$500’. Larissa texts, confirming the amount you’ll be paid for the evening. Enough to buy groceries and put towards the final part of your monthly rent. And with that, there’s no backing out now.

“Babe, I’ve got to run into the office.” Dave checks his watch and is satisfied that he will have plenty of time to set out any toys he wants to use before the girl shows up. “I’ll be a few hours, so don’t wait up.”

****

You arrive at the address a few minutes before seven, anxiety coursing through your veins as you make your way to the building, about to press the buzzer but the door swings open and the person leaving holds it open for you to enter.

‘It’s nice,’ is your first thought as you enter the building, the hall clean and looked after with fresh flowers on each windowsill. You rock up and down on your tiptoes as you wait for the elevator, stepping into it with a large inhale the second the doors open and pressing down on the button for the top floor.

Dressed in casual clothes, Dave takes off his shoes and twists the rope in his hands. It’s soft and sturdy, perfect for Shibari and he wants to tie the girl up tonight. The idea already has his cock half hard and he wonders if she will show up.

After standing outside his apartment for a few minutes, you build up the courage to knock on the door. Knocking loudly three times before taking a step back and waiting to see who’ll be fucking you tonight.

Dave sets the rope down and his feet slap against the cool marble floors of the apartment. Striding to the door, he doesn’t bother looking through the peephole, just reaching for the handle and letting the door swing open.

The door whips open and just as you’re ready to introduce yourself with the fake name you had decided on in the elevator, it’s like someone is dumping an ice cold bucket of water over your head. “Fuck.” You murmur. “Shit. I-I, Mr. York, I must have gotten the address wrong…” you start to garble off.

Dave’s emotions rush through surprise, anger and confusion but he realizes that the girl Larissa was talking about is you. The girl that Carol hires sometimes when she wants a date night or there’s some function they can’t bring the girls to. He glances around to find the hallway deserted and reaches out, grabbing your arm and dragging you into his apartment. “What are you doing here?”

You yelp as he drags you into his apartment, “I’m here to meet someone,” you say quickly, “My friend set it up for me. I must have put the address into uber wrong or something.”

“Let me guess.” He smirks and chuckles darkly. “Larissa?”

“Yeah,” you say, as your face heats up, “I didn’t know it was you.”

He’s never imagined fucking you, out of respect for the fact that you interact with his wife and kids, but he also never imagined you would sell yourself. He leans back. “Strip.”

You’re not sure why you don’t question it, why you don’t immediately turn around and leave the apartment that you now know belongs to Dave York. Husband of Carol York - parents of the two little girls you’ve babysat for for the past year. But you don’t. Instead you do as you’re told. Still standing at the entrance of his apartment, you begin to shed your clothes. Your jacket, dress and bra dropping to the floor as you stand there just in your panties.

“Naked.” Dave can’t even bark the order, but he’s reaching for the rope, the urge to bind you overwhelming right now.

You nod before reaching down and dipping your fingertips under the waistband of your panties and pushing them down your legs.

He reaches for you again, leaving the pile of clothes in the entryway and pulling you into the living room. The rope in his hands as he pushes you down to your knees and unravels the soft binding material.

“Mr. York,” you say with a gasp, as you realize what he’s about to do. “Are you still going to fuck me?”

“Shut up.” He grunts, bending down and pulling your arms behind you so he can tie your wrists together and then bind your arms to your body.

You don’t argue with him, instead you’re as pliant as you can be, letting him position you and tie you up with ease.

Next come your legs. Making sure they are spread as he ties you up. Pussy on display as your thighs are bound to your calves and rendering you completely immobile.

When he’s done, he stands and moves over to his wallet, pulling out two crisp one hundred dollar bills and one fifty. Half the agreed upon price and he walks over with a smirk. Tucking it into the ropes around your breasts and making sure that the bills are completely visible.

“Do you like what you see?” You ask, as his eyes dip down to your glistening folds.

He doesn’t answer, pulling out his phone and opening it up so he can snap several pictures of you on display. Nude and bound with the money he is paying you for your body on display. Showing what a whore you are. His dark eyes find yours. “If you breathe a word of this to Carol, I’ll send these to your parents.” He threatens, holding up the phone.

It feels like a shot to the chest, “Why would I tell her?” You say, panic rising in your voice. “I would never, I don’t want anyone to know how desperate I am for money. And my parents… they’d never speak to me again.”

“Good.” Now that you understand one another, Dave sets the phone down and takes the bills out of the ropes. Putting them down on the table next to the sofa and humming as he looks at you. “Fuck, you are going to fuck me for a few hundred dollars? Your cunt worth it?”

“Yes,” you say with a shaky breath, “It’s tight. You can be as rough as you like and you don’t need to make me cum.”

Dave grunts, imagining you must be tight. “I make the women I’m with cum. Even the ones I pay for.” He squats down and slides his fingers through your folds, surprised to find you already starting to drip arousal. “You like the idea of being used?” He asks, knowing that your limits need to be discussed before he fucks you.

“I like the idea of you taking what you need from me,” you admit, “Using me for your pleasure.”

“That’s what I will do.” He promises, smirking as he stands up again. “Right now, you’re gonna suck my cock.”

“Yes, Mr. York,” you say, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs.

“Don’t call me that.” Reaching out, he taps the side of your cheek sharply. Not enough to hurt, but he likes the gasp you let out.

“Sorry,” you say with a gasp, “What should I call you?”

“Sir, or Dave.” He knows that things have changed since there is a personal knowledge of each other. “What do you want to be called?”

“You can call me whatever you like, sir,” you say, as your eyes dip down to the bulge in his pants.

“Good girl.” He likes a woman who is accommodating. Reaching down, he flicks the button of his jeans open. “Tell me what you don’t want done to you.”

“No fisting,” you say quietly, watching him intensely as he works the button on his jeans. “No anal sex and no watersports.”

“Anything else?” He knows about those but now that you are here, he wants to make sure you have not thought of anything else.

“I don’t think so,” you say with the tiniest shrug. “What are you planning to do with me?”

“Anything I fucking want.” He smirks, dragging his zipper down and pulling his hard cock out of his pants. He pushes them down and kicks them off before pulling his shirt over his head. “Right now, I’m going to gag you on my cock.”

“Yes sir.” Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, and your pussy clamps down around nothing.

He’s gotta give you credit, you don’t refuse. Opening your mouth in anticipation of him slapping his cock against your tongue. Larissa said you weren’t too experienced and he wonders why that is.

You wait patiently for him to feed you his cock, looking up at him all doe eyed and innocent.

The first thrust of his cock into your mouth isn’t gentle. It’s not a slow acclimatization to his length. He makes sure that he hits the back of your throat and pushes further still, feeling you choke and gag on him.

The noises you make aren’t attractive, as you gag around him. Fat tears are already welling up in your eyes and threatening to fall as his fingers grip onto your jaw.

“Yessss.” He hisses, pulling his hips back and rocking them forward just as deep. Enjoying the way your eyes widen and your throat threatens to reject the length pushing past your gag reflex. If you get sick, he will just pull away.

You hollow your cheeks, and suck the best you can as he fucks your face. You wish you could hold onto his thighs to keep you steady but the ropes keep your hands in place. You can’t take your eyes off of his face, even when the tears start to stream, loving the look of pure bliss on his face.

His fingers slide from your jaw to the back of your head. Holding onto you while his hips rock forward, again and again. Making sure that he keeps pushing deeper until the hairs at the base of his cock press against your lips.

You gag louder around his cock as he pushes deeper, trying to catch your breath and breathe through your nose. You swallow hard a few times, and swirl your tongue around him.

“Shit.”‘Dave hisses, impressed that you aren’t trying to pull back. To compose yourself to make yourself ‘look prettier’ while he’s fucking your throat. He hates that. Sex is sloppy, messy in the best kind of way. He wants the tears and the saliva dripping down your chin.

You look up at him, staring down at you, his cock heavy on your tongue and wonder what he’s about to do next. You don’t have to see yourself to know that you look a mess, mascara must be streaming, spit has started to roll down your neck and your eyes are blurry with tears.

He feels himself start to get close, his body tensing and he pulls his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop. Wrapping his hand around his cock and slickly stroking it for a few moments before letting go.

You feel like you shouldn’t enjoy watching him stroke his cock as much as you do, but something about him being inches from your face and touching himself makes you slip out a moan.

“Are you on birth control?” Normally he uses a condom, but he wants to see his cum splattered on your cunt.

“I have an IUD,” you say softly, “I got tested when they inserted it and I actually haven’t had sex since.”

Dave groans and his cock twitches. “I’ll pay you another $200 if you let me fuck you raw. Cum in your pussy.” He offers.

“You don’t have to pay more,” you say, confused, “I already agreed to let you do whatever to me.”

“I never fuck someone without a condom.” Dave informs you. “If I’m fucking you raw or cumming inside your cunt, I pay extra.” He knows what other girls charge and he’s not going to take advantage.

“Okay, sure, yes,” you say with a few nods of your head, “You don’t usually cum inside the other girls?”

“No.” He kneels down and swipes his fingers through your dripping folds and groans. “None. Never without a condom.”

You keen immediately at his touch, soft moans dripping from your mouth as he touches your soft skin. “You can fuck me however you need, sir.”

“Do you cum from sex?” Dave asks, fingers slipping inside you and curling up as you sit on the floor of his living room.

“No,” you admit, with a gasp as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

He groans when you clench down around his fingers and he nods. “Then I’ll make you cum with a toy.”

“I don’t think I have a g-spot,” you say, face heating up, “I meant what I said… you don’t need to worry about me. I’m just here for you to use.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt so he can untie your legs. Pulling you to your feet when he has them loose. “I’m going to do what I want.” He corrects you. “And the people I fuck, they cum.”

You nod silently a few times, standing in front of him still completely bare with your arms still tied. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay down on the bed, on your back.” He orders as he guides you towards the one bedroom in the apartment. “I’m going to tie your legs back up.”

Silently you do as you’re ordered, sinking down on the very comfortable large bed and waiting patiently for him.

He likes that you don’t argue. Don’t even look nervous. You are cool and collected, although you still give off an innocent aura. Bending your legs back again and tying you back up. Spreading your cunt wide for him to admire and use. “Now….are you comfortable?” He asks. “You’re going to be fucked for a long time in this position.”

“I’m comfortable,” you confirm, with a small smile. “Larissa said you like the traffic light system?”

“Red, yellow, green.” Dave confirms with a nod as he stands up again and moves over to a display cabinet with all the toys he has.

“I’ve never used it,” you say as you watch him, “But it sounds simple enough.”

“Red, I stop.” He explains as he decides in a heavy duty wand. “Yellow, I slow down and check with you.” Moving over he also picks up a pair of nipple clamps. Your nipples would look amazingly swollen and puffy from the pressure of the clamps. “Green, keep going. You are good with everything that I’m doing.” He turns around to come back over to the bed. “Just because I’m paying to use your body, doesn’t mean you don’t get a say.”

“Sounds good,” you say, still watching the back of him. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing what you like, right? or if I'm doing something wrong?”

“You won’t do something wrong.” He assures you with a chuckle. “Hard to take a cock wrong.”

“I’m pretty sure that every other girl you’ve had in this bed was more experienced than me,” you say with a shaky breath, “I just… you’re paying a lot of money. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I am paying a lot of money.” Dave coos, kneeling on the bed. “For a hole to fuck. To do what I want with your body and have you cum for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, as he inches closer. You’ve noticed how attractive he is before, but you’ve never been this close. The urge to please him is almost as overwhelming as he is.

He smirks, very happy with your easy agreement. “I’m going to put these in your nipples.” He holds up the clamps. “They will hurt but feel good too.”

“Anything you want,” you say, as you stare at the shiny pieces of metal in his hands.

Dave sets the wand down and carefully clamps the devices around your hard nipples and he feels the way your body arches up and he hums. “Color?”

“Green.” You look down at the wand and gulp, having never used one yourself.

He nods, tightening the clamps until your nipples are tight little buds being squeezed out from the top of the clamps, making him smirk at the sight and flick his finger over them just to hear you whimper.

“Dave,” you whimper quietly, as he smirks down at you. It feels good, a little painful but you like the way they feel.

“They will feel even better later.” He tells you, shuffling forward and picking up the wand.

“Yeah?” You ask, as he places a hand on your thigh, while switching on the wand.

“I’m going to have my cock inside you.” He explains, pressing the wand to the inside of your thighs to let you feel the intensity. “Let you cum around me.”

You gasp at the vibrations from the wand, and nod your head. “That sounds perfect.”

He teases the wand around your clit while he takes his cock in his hand, pressing the head against your folds and sliding it up and down to slick himself up. “Green?”

The loud moan you make makes your cheeks burn, “Green, oh fuck, that feels so good.”

“It does.” He grunts, notching himself at your entrance and starts to slowly push inside you as he moves the wand to your clit.

You find yourself staring at his lips, watching as he snarls his teeth behind them as he slots himself inside of you, “You’re so thick.”

He groans, pushing himself deeper as you flutter around him. Until he’s completely filling you, his hips pressing against the juncture of your thighs and he twitches inside you. “Now, be a good girl and tell me how this feels.”

“So fucking good,” you say between breathy moans, the wand pulsing against your clit nicely that you think you’re getting close already. “How do I feel?”

“Hot.” Dave grunts. “Tight.” He watches you, tilting the wand a bit more and turning it up another notch.

“Worth the money?” You say with a giggle, before biting down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming.

“Every fucking penny.” He grunts, wondering why you are selling yourself for money. He won’t ask now, just wants to enjoy this.

You feel your walls clench down around him, and he notches against something delicious inside of you. “Fuck,” you murmur, as he presses the wand against your clit, “Always thought you were so fucking sexy.”

He doesn’t really care if you found him sexy. All that matters is how you are feeling right now, what you are letting him do. He twitches when he feels you clench again. “Your little pussy likes the wand.”

“My little pussy likes you,” you say, correcting him.

He grunts, smirking as he pulls the wand up for just a moment before he puts it back down on your clit.

You hiss as he places back against your clit, you know you’re seconds away from choking his cock with your pussy, “I’m gonna cum,” you mumble over and over as your pussy grips his cock.

“Good girl.” He groans, watching your eyes flutter and shut right before your mouth drops open in a loud cry.

You hear him groan as you clamp down around him hard, your orgasm ripping through you as cry his name over and over. The wand is still firmly pressed against your clit as you ride out your high.

Only when your entire body is shaking does he pull the wand away from your clit. Your pussy flooded with your cum and he rocks his hips, hearing his cock squelch. “One more? Or you want me to fuck you now?”

“Whatever you want,” you gasp, “Fuck, that was incredible.”

“One more.” He decides with a chuckle, turning the wand back on. “This time I’m going to move.”

You nod to let him know you’re listening, as he pulls on your ropes, before switching the wand back on. “Still green.” You say before he asks.

“Good girl.” He groans as he starts to move inside your cunt. Loving the way that you grip him, hold him tight in your walls.

“Fuck,” you moan, as one of his hands grip tightly on your hip. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Don’t think about my cock.” He groans. “Concentrate on your clit. The wand. Does it feel good?”

“So so good,” you say, as you concentrate on the little vibrations.

He grunts, keeping his thrusts shallow so he can feel every time you clench. “You’re gonna cum again.” He demands.

“Yes, Sir,” you say as your walls flutter around him, and your hips do everything to seek out more. “Gonna c-cum.”

“Hmmmm.” He grunts, watching you as he keeps pushing his hips, keeps feeding you his cock again and again. Listening to the obscene sounds of your cunt and his cock pushing in and out of it.

You cum devastatingly hard, everything going black as you start to convulse around him. A loud scream of his name tunnels out your mouth and bounces off the walls as you choke his cock with your quivering cunt.

This time Dave pulls the wand away, tossing it down and leaning over you. His thrusts sharpening, his hips snapping forward roughly as he fucks you through the tremors of your orgasm.

Every snap of his hips is enough to make your breath hitch, his pace is almost relentless as he fucks into you with all his strength. You feel him notch against paradise inside of you, a place you’ve never discovered as he continues a delicious assault on your pussy.

The moment his hips tilt down, he feels your reaction. The gasp and arching of your back giving away that you do have a g-spot after all. “There?” He hisses through clenched teeth. “Right there?”

“Yes,” you gasp, as he purposely shreds up against it, “Oh, fuck, Dave!”

“That’s it.” He groans. “That’s it, right there. Gonna make you cum.”

“Please,” you beg, as he fucks up into that spot with ease, making you moan his name over and over as you gush around him.

Dave grunts, sweat rolling down his temples as he buries his cock again. Shifting his weight, he takes hold of one of the clamps around one nipple and tugs it until it pulls off your sensitive flesh with a sharp snap.

You gasp as a sharp pain shoots through you, “Fuck,” you gasp again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

“Cum.” He groans, wanting to feel it again before he cums.

Your body immediately obeys his commands, and for the third time you’ve cumming hard around his cock. Exhaustion starts to rise in your bones as pleasure rolls through you in harsh waves.

When you clench down around him again, Dave snarls, rocking his hips even harder as he chases his own pleasure. Feeling the tingle at the base of his spine and tensing as his thrusts become sloppy. “Fuck.”

“Fill me up, sir,” you beg beneath him, “I wanna feel you drip out of me.”

That does it for him. The plea for his cum makes him groan. Pushing deep for one more thrust and pulsing deep inside you. Hot spurts of his seed filling you up and coating your quivering walls as he groans out your name.

You lay there sated, not that you’re able to move, but you don’t mind. Inhaling his scent and listening to his jagged breaths as he softens inside of you.

“Shit.” Dave groans, knowing he needs to move, to untie you but he wants to stay for another moment. “Color?”

“Green,” you giggle, “Should I be asking you the same question?”

“No.” He grunts as he finally pulls away, smirking as he looks down at his cum pushing out from around his cock. “I was the one calling the shots.” Reaching for the rope, he starts to untie you and massage your limbs.

“That was amazing,” you say, “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Dave hums, pointing towards the bathroom. “You can clean up, shower if you want before you go.”

You’re unsure if it’s the right thing to do but you can’t help yourself, before walking towards the bathroom, you reach over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek before making your way out of the room.

Dave frowns but he doesn’t move, watching you disappear into the bathroom before he stands up. Opting to clean up in the small half bath, he redresses and starts to clean the wand and clamps before putting them back and winding the ropes up.

Fully dressed and all cleaned up, you make your way back into the living room. Unsure how to approach the subject of collecting the rest of your pay.

Dave reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet when you walk into the room. The entire apartment looks like it had before you had walked in, save for the sheets needing to be changed. He pulls out the $450 dollars he owes you and holds it out for you to take.

“Thank you,” you say, feeling a little embarrassed about taking payment for what you just did. “I, uh, won’t tell anyone, not just because of the photos. Thank you, Dave.”

“Why are you selling yourself?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “Are you in trouble?”

You choke back an awkward laugh, “No. I’m not in trouble, I just… I lost my job. Rent is due. And I don’t want to go back home full time. You’re actually the first person I’ve seen.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about what you’ve told him. “Do you want to come back next Saturday?” He asks, giving you the option. “Same time, same payment.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, “I mean, yeah, that would be great. Tonight was fucking incredible.”

“Don’t text my regular phone.” He warns you, pulling out his burner phone and holding it out for you to send a text message to yourself. “Don’t put the number under my name.”

You nod in agreement and send yourself a blank text. “Is there anything you want me to bring? Or wear?”

“Just yourself.” Dave shakes his head. “You don’t have to wear anything special, you won’t be wearing it for long.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you next week then, Dave. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He walks you to the door and closes it behind you. Frowning as he keeps his hand on the door after you walk out. It had been a surprising turn of events but he is interested to see if you show up next week.

The drive home is quick, and you find yourself immediately craving sleep. You think about the evening as you snuggle up in bed, how surprised you were when it was Dave that had opened the door and how guilty you feel about how much you wanted him.

You shake your head as you let sleep takeover, dreaming about large hands keeping you still and husky voices making demands that have your pussy clenching.

****

“David, we should have a date night.” Carol looks up at him from her makeup vanity with a small pout. “It’s been months since we’ve gone out and it’s Thursday.” She sends him a coy smile, biting her lip. Obviously thinking that a date would make the Thursday night sex even better.

“Sure honey.” Dave’s eyes match hers in the mirror before he turns back to tying his tie and he says your name. “Why don’t you give her a call and see if she can watch the kids tonight?” You obviously need the money and he wants to make sure you aren’t going to say anything. “We can order the girls pizza for dinner and go out.”

‘Hey honey, are you free for a few hours tonight? Me and Dave need a date night. Carol.’

You read the next a few times, and feel the guilt bubble up in your stomach. ‘The money would help so much right now,’ you think to yourself.

‘Sure. What time do you need me there?’ You type back and hit send before you can change your mind.

Carol grins and looks up from her phone. “She can. What time?” She asks.

“Tell her 6.” He pours his coffee and takes a sip. “That way you can get ready without the kids hanging on you.”

‘Can you be here for six?’ She types back a few minutes later, and you take a sip of your coffee and sigh.

‘Six sounds great. See you tonight.’

“Thank you David.” Carol smiles and steps up to Dave, snagging his cup and stealing a sip of his coffee. “We will have fun tonight.” She promises, leaning up on her toes to kiss him.

Dave hums, kissing her back but aware that he shouldn’t deepen the kiss past that point. “We will.” He nods, checking his watch. “But I’ve got to go to work now.” He steals another kiss before turning away. “Love you.”

****

You don’t have any classes today, so you spend the day cleaning your apartment and doing an essay that’s due early next week. Occasionally looking up and watching as the clock ticks off the hours.

Just before five you decide to have a shower, taking the time to shave your legs and deeply condition your hair before getting out and pulling on the dress you had laid out on your bed just before.

Anxiety bubbles in your tummy as you turn onto his street, admiring the rows of lush lawns and expensive cars, before pulling up onto his drive. Careful not to park behind his car, as not to block him in.

Dave steps out of the shower right as the doorbell rings. “Girls!” He shouts down the stairs. “Let the babysitter in!” He had gotten in just ten minutes earlier and was a little behind getting ready himself.

“Hey, honey,” you say as Molly whips open the door, with a large grin. “You ready for a fun evening?”

“Yeah!” She bounces on her toes happily. “Daddy said we are ordering pizza!” Pizza cures all in the York household, the girls could live off bread, sauce and cheese if their parents would let them.

“Sounds yummy,” you say, as you step into the house. “Pizza and a movie?”

“That sounds good.” She bites her lip. “Can we watch Tangled?”

You tap your chin a few times, and then break out in a huge smile and before announcing, “My favorite!” Watching as she giggles happily. You follow her down the hall and into the kitchen, where Alice is happily coloring in at the table. “Hi sweetie.”

“Hi.” Alice chirps before reapplying herself to her coloring. “Mommy and daddy are getting ready. Daddy said he was running ‘hella late’, whatever that means.”

“Oh,” you say with a little giggle, “Just an adult way of saying super late.”

“Ohhhh.” She shrugs and grins. “He was saying bad words as he ran upstairs.”

“Was he really?” You gasp, “Naughty daddy.”

“Don’t be a tattle tale.” Molly huffs, she always likes it when her daddy curses. It’s funny because he’s always so careful most of the time.

“Don’t worry, Molly, I won’t say anything. Do you guys want some juice?”

Dave rushes downstairs, dressed as the doorbell peels for the second time. “I’ll get it!” He calls out, knowing that has to be the pizza he ordered for dinner. He doesn’t want you to think you need to pay.

The sound of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, you’re nervous to see him again, but you can’t let it show. So you pour Molly and Alice out a glass of juice and get a few plates from the cupboard .

“Pizza’s here.” Dave announces, bringing the boxes back into the kitchen. His eyes find you and he wonders if it’s just his imagination that you are squirming.

“Come on, monkey,” you say to Molly, as you pop a plate in front of her, “Who’s hungry?!”

“Don’t let them eat too much.” Dave cautions. “Last time Molly stayed up half the night with a tummy ache.”

“Of course,” you say, looking at him for the first time since he came downstairs. He looks good, dressed in a nice suit with his hair styled back. “What time should I put them to bed?”

“Eight should be fine.” Dave hums. “Or whenever Tangled is over.” He smirks when Alice groans. “They don’t need showers or anything. Carol made them bathe when they got home from school.”

“Perfect.” You plate them both up a slice of pizza before reaching into the pantry and grabbing the ranch, knowing Alice would consume the whole bottle if she was allowed. “Are you going somewhere nice?”

“Some little Italian place Carol wants to try.” He can’t really remember the name, he just called and got a table. “Supposed to have really good lasagna.”

“Sounds lovely, Italian food is always a solid choice.”

“Call us if you have any issues.” Dave murmurs quietly, watching you. “We shouldn’t be out too late. But we are going to pay you until midnight.”

“Oh,” you say with a grateful smile, “I’m happy to get paid for just the time I'm here. The girls are always such a delight.”

He shakes his head. “Take the money.” He urges you. “You are watching them at the last minute for us. Doing us a favor.”

You look up at him, and smile, “Thank you, Mr. York.”

“No problem.” He looks back towards the girls with a fond smile.

You’re surprised at how relaxed you feel, pushing the weekend out of your head, right now he’s just the Dad of the girls you’re about to babysit. “Is there any laundry or anything I can do while you’re gone?”

“Not a thing.” He shakes his head. “Once the girls go down, watch whatever you want.”

“Thank you,” you say again, your eyes briefly dipping down to his lips.

Carol comes bustling onto the kitchen. “Oh, you are a lifesaver.” She exclaims, rushing over to give you a hug. “A date night is just what David and I need.”

“Trust me, it’s you doing me a favor!” You say, returning her hug, “If I have to eat ramen once more this week, I might scream. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She beams at the compliment and Dave hums in agreement. “You do look beautiful, honey.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“So, I’ll make sure these two angels are fast asleep when you’re home. And I’ll pack their lunch bags for school tomorrow. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do while you’re gone? I really don’t mind.”

“Make sure you…” Carol drops her voice, “take the rest of the pizza home with you.” She tells you dramatically, “otherwise they will want it for breakfast.”

“Sounds good,” you say with a giggle. “Have a great evening, I’ve got your numbers if needed.”

Dave arches a brow, silently reminding you to not text the other phone. But he reaches for his wife. “We need to leave if we are going to make our reservation.”

You take the obvious hint, and nod your head once. “Say goodnight to your parents, girls,” you tell them as they shovel pizza into their tiny mouths.

“BYE!” Both girls chorus out, making all the adults laugh. In a few more minutes, Dave and Carol are out the door and gone.

Taking a slice of pizza, you almost groan in delight at how good it tastes before grabbing yourself a drink. “So pizza and then Tangled, ladies?”

“Yeah!” Alice cries and Molly nods, her mouth full of pizza.

“Perfect.” You eat another slice of pizza as the girls finish up theirs and usher them onto the couch. Switching on disney plus and heading back into the kitchen to clear up the mess. You join them a few minutes later and snuggle up as you watch the movie.

By the time Mother Gothel trips over the hair and falls to her death, both girls are passed out on the couch next to you, snoring softly.

You switch the movie off before gently scooping Alice in your arms, carrying her up to bed first before doing the same with Molly. You switch on their night lights and leave both their doors slightly ajar, so you can hear if they wake up or need anything. before tiptoeing downstairs and sorting their lunch for the next day.

You watch a few episodes of Law and Order as you snuggle up on their couch, waiting for the sound of Dave’s car to pull up.

“Daaaaaavid.” Carol giggles in the passenger seat as he pulls into the driveway and puts the car into park. “I want you, baby.”

Dave chuckles quietly, aware that his wife might have had too much wine with dinner and maybe the espresso martini with dessert was putting her over the edge. “Yeah? We need to get into the house first.”

She giggles again and nods, leaning over and tapping his cheek. “I- I’m even- I was to be….daring” she confides with an exaggerated wink. “From behind?” For her, that is daring, and Dave arches his brow in surprise.

“My birthday isn’t for another three months.”

You heard Dave’s car pull up a few minutes ago, and start to get your things together. Figuring they’ll want to be alone as soon as possible, you pull your coat on, grab your purse and the leftover pizza and wait patiently for them to come in.

Carol is handsy, tipsy and giggly as Dave hauls her from the car towards the door. Groping his cock and loudly telling him that she wants to suck it, something she never does except for extremely special occasions. “Okay, let’s get you inside.” He grunts, knowing that she’s probably going to be too drunk for even the Thursday night sex he normally gets.

You overhear the conversation between the two of them and hate the pang of jealousy that lights up in your stomach. You’re ready to get paid and to just get out of there.

The door opens and Carol spills inside, Dave holding onto her so she doesn’t go sprawling and he’s surprised to see you waiting. “Dave, baby, f-fu- have sex with me?” She can’t even say ‘fuck’ when she’s plastered. Dave rolls his eyes and decides the best thing to do is to get his wife upstairs. “Stay right here.” He tells you, scooping Carol up with a small shriek from the woman as he carts her upstairs over his shoulder.

“Sure,” you say quietly, as you watch him carry the woman he loves up the stairs. Listening to her giggle and thrash about in his arms, whilst trying to keep the second burst of jealousy coursing through you at bay. You want to just leave, to pick up the money another time and get out of there but decide to just wait.

Once in the bedroom, Dave lays her down, and avoids the grabby hands as she flops back in the bed. “Dave.” She whines, a clear indicator that she’s hammered because she always calls him David.

“I’ll be back, honey. I have to pay the sitter.” He knows that she will be passed out by the time he gets back upstairs and will probably regret this in the morning. “I’ll be right back.”

You can hear his footsteps running down the hall, and you can imagine he’s desperate to get back upstairs and fuck his wife. So you get your keys out, ready to take the cash and leave straight after.

“I’m sorry.” Dave shakes his head as he comes down the stairs. “Maybe having a bottle at dinner wasn’t a good idea.” He stops in front of you and reaches for his wallet. “Were the girls good for you?”

“Don’t apologize,” you say, with a shrug, “Sounds like you’ve had a great night. Perfect as always. Had some fruit for dessert and both were sleeping soundly before the movie ended.”

Dave chuckles and opens his wallet to start pulling cash out. “She’ll regret it in the morning when she wakes up with a hangover.”

“I’m sure you’ll see she has a good night before that happens,” you laugh, “So, I won’t keep you any longer.”

He thinks he hears the edge of jealousy, but he’s sure he’s imagining things. “Ten bucks says she’s already snoring.” He wagers playfully.

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug, “Thanks for this. Was lovely to see the girls again.”

“Hey.” He catches your arm as you turn towards the door. “Saturday?”

“Yes,” you say, with a smile, “Looking forward to it.”

“Good.” He lets go of your arm and reaches around you to open the door. “Have a good night. Shoot me a text when you get home safely.” It was something that had been in place before, Dave wanting to make sure the babysitters who watch his children make it home safely. It’s a dangerous world and he knows what lingers in the shadows.

“Will do, goodnight Dave.” You briefly glance down at his lips one last time, before shuffling out the door and making your way to your car.

Once the door is closed, Dave locks it, arms the security system and heads back upstairs. As he predicted, Carol is passed out, sprawled over his side of the bed and he can’t help but roll his eyes. He’ll have to get her undressed and tucked in, then go jerk off in the bathroom thinking about last Saturday.

The second you’re home, you put the leftover pizza in the fridge and shed your dress. Pulling on a comfortable oversized tee and climbing into bed. After plugging your phone into charge, you send a quick text to Dave.

‘Home safe.’

Once he gets your text, Dave can relax. Laying down on Carol’s side of the bed since she refused to roll over, he wonders what you are doing, and if you are looking forward to Saturday like he is.

You wonder if he’ll text back, but you doubt it. So you snuggle into your blankets and get comfortable, thinking about what he has in store for you this weekend.

****

Saturday rolls around again and Dave is waiting for you in the apartment. Slightly irritated with himself since he has never been so eager to get back here to fuck before. He blames it on not getting sex on Thursday, but he knows that’s not the case.

You press the buzzer and wait to be let into the building, excited to find out just what he wants to do to you tonight and whether you’ll be tied up again.

He buzzes you in and is already holding the door to the apartment open, when you get out of the elevator.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” His cock twitches and he wants to pull you into the apartment but he doesn’t. Instead he stands back and lets you come in. “Go into the bedroom and strip.”

“Yes, sir.” You walk straight into the bedroom and place your purse on the dresser, before unzipping your dress and removing your underwear. Placing yourself on the edge of bed and waiting patiently for him to join you.

Dave walks in and groans when he sees you naked. Waiting for him and he smirks. “Hands and knees, press your face into the pillow.”

“Any restraints today?” You ask, before getting into the position. Burying your face into the pillow, and trying not to think about how on display you are for him right now.

“Nope.” Dave is wearing sweats and a t-shirt, quickly discarded. Reaching out, he caresses your ass before he pulls his hand back to spank you.

You moan in pleasure at his touch. Rough or not. You’ve been craving him since that night, and seeing him Thursday just made those cravings more intense.

“Color?” He demands, slapping your ass again.

“Green,” you reply, loving the stinging feeling that spreads across your skin.

He holds both of your ass cheeks, spreading them wide and staring at both of your holes. He groans and rocks your hips back when you try to lean forward, shy about being exposed.

“Daaaave,” you breathe into the sheets, face burning as he holds you open.

He grins, pressing his thumb to your puckered hole just to feel you try to clench around it. Instead of teasing you more, he decides to shock you, leaning down and spitting on your asshole a second before he replaces his finger with his tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, as his tongue starts to lap at you there. It’s like he can gauge what you’re about to do next, as he grabs onto your hips, stopping them from moving forward.

Dave is filthy, loving how you moan and squeak as he slides his tongue down to push inside your cunt and then back to the other hole. Carol would never let him do this, so he is going to do it to you. Even if you won’t let him fuck your ass.

You squeal as his tongue pushes into your puckered hole, feeling overwhelmed even though he’s barely touched you. But you can hear his delicious groans, the pleasured moans that are falling from his mouth and you know he’s loving it, and you find yourself getting off on his sounds on top of his teasing.

One hand slides underneath you and he starts to rub your clit while he uses his mouth on you. Pulling away briefly, he bites your right ass cheek. “Good girl,” he praises before he dives back in.

You start to relax as his fingers circle your clit, the feeling of his mouth back there becoming more enjoyable as you get used to it. “Feels nice,” you mumble into the pillow, as he doubles down in his efforts.

He chuckles against your skin and makes sure that you moan again at the next flick of his tongue.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn, as you rock your hips back, chasing his fingers and his tongue.

He just hums, pushing his tongue deep and flicking it inside you as his fingers continue their assault on your cunt.

“Daaaaveeee,” you scream into the cushion as you start to cum, your entire body spasming from the intense pleasure.

Groaning, he keeps working you, wanting you to be limp with pleasure by the time he pulls his face away from your ass.

“Yellow,” you murmur, as he continues working your overstimulated clit after you come down from your high.

Pulling away, Dave uses the same hand that had rubbed your clit to caress your ass. “Too much?”

“Yes,” you say quietly, worried you’ve upset him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Dave shifts to lay down beside you and his hand continues to caress your spine. “You need a drink?”

“No, baby,” you say, the nickname slipping out before you have time to realize, “Just need a few minutes and you can do whatever you want to me.”

He hums and rolls onto his back. “You’re going to ride me.” He decides with a smirk. “Bounce on my cock.”

You hum in excitement, “Yes, sir. You wanna fill me up again?”

“Are you okay with that?” Just because he had last time doesn’t mean you will want him to tonight.

“Masturbated every night this week to the thought of you watching it drip out of my pussy before pushing it back in,” you say as you swing your leg over, so you’re straddling him.

“And you’re supposed to be innocent.” He snorts and shakes his head, already gripping your hip. “You like cum play?”

“I am,” you say with a smile, “I guess so, you’re the only person to have cum inside of me without a condom.”

Dave smirks and slaps your thigh. “So climb on my cock.” He grunts.

You lift your hips and watch as he lines himself up for you to sink down on, you steady yourself by holding onto one of his shoulders before taking him. Pleasure immediately pouring out of you as you fill yourself with him. “Fuck,” you moan, “Was so jealous on Thursday. Wanted you to bend me over the kitchen island and fuck me instead of her.”

“Didn’t fuck her.” His chuckle is mixed with a groan and he smirks. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“Oh, do I now?” you say as you start to grind your hips, “I feel a little guilty now. You didn’t get off and I went home and played with this pussy thinking about what you were planning for me.”

He twitches inside you and rocks his hips up. “Jerked off thinking about what I would do to you.”

“Yeah?” You say as you move a little quicker, “Tell me the filthiest thing you’d do to me.”

“Fuck your pretty little ass and then cum in your face.” Dave groans.

“Yeah? You want to be the first one to fuck my ass, Dave?”

He hisses, rocking his hips up again. He would love to, but he doubts he will see you again after this. He normally sees the girls no more than twice, occasionally three times. But he doesn’t want an emotional connection with anyone he fucks here. “Yes.”

“Maybe, I’ll let you.” You say, as he grabs on your hips, pushing you down harder on his cock.

One hand slides up to palm your tit as you start to bounce on his cock. “Let me know when you decide.”

“I know that you only see girls a few times,” you say, increasing the speed you bounce on his cock a little, “But if you want to do this again, I’ll let you. Let you fuck my ass as a final goodbye.”

He groans but he doesn’t answer. Cock twitching and he slaps your ass again. It’s a good trick to get him to choose you again. One that he’s already considering.

His refusal to answer makes you feel overwhelmed with embarrassment, so you pick up the pace. Riding his cock and clamping down around him as hard as you can, desperate to make him cum and feel him fill your needy pussy up as quickly as possible.

“Fuck.” Dave’s eyes are on your tits as you bounce harder. “So good. Fuck, you gonna cream all over my cock again?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck, Dave.” You chant his name over and over as he shreds up against that spot that only he has ever been able to find inside of you. “So close.”

“Good.” He grunts, bracing his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into you. “After you cum, you’re gonna clean my cock off with your tongue.”

“Oh, fuck. Yes please,” you plead, desperate to feel how his cock twitches on your tongue. You grind down on him a few more times before you’re thrown from that edge.

Your body shakes and you collapse against his chest as your hips stop moving. He doesn’t do anything, letting you ride it out until you are panting softly.

Once you’re a little more composed, you lift off him and silently position yourself between his legs. Before bending down and circling his weeping tip with your tongue.

“Fuck. Suck it.” Dave groans, grabbing your shoulder and sighing when you take him deeper. “But I want to cum in your cunt.”

You do as he demands, hollowing your cheeks around him and sucking his cock whilst gently squeezing his sack. Letting him rock his hips so he’s pushing past your tonsils and making you slightly gag at the intrusion, knowing that he fucking loves to hear you gag from taking him. His groans are filthy, every single one going straight to your pulsating clit and you’re not sure who’s enjoying this blow job more.

“Touch yourself.” Dave orders, wanting you to moan around him.

Your fingers snake down between your legs and you circle your clit, your moans wrapping around his throbbing length.

“Fuck yes.” Dave groans, watching your hand move between your thighs.

You resume your focus on working his cock, your fingers still circling your clit as you take him deeper in your throat. Slightly gagging as your nose nestles against his pubic hair, breathing deep through your nose as you hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as can.

Dave grunts out your name, closing his eyes and letting himself get closer to cumming with every pull of your jaw. “Fuck, get on my cock.” He orders.

You can’t resist hollowing your cheeks and sucking really hard one last time before you pull off him with a loud pop. You move to straddle him again, using his shoulders to steady yourself as you sink down onto him, “Fill me up, baby,” you say as sweetly as you can, grinding your hips as you do so.

Dave groans, taking over and instead of rolling you over and thrusting into you, he lifts his hips. Working his cock in and out of you frantically as you grind down on him. “Shit, shit, shit.” He hisses, fingers digging into your hips hard enough that he will leave bruises under your skin.

Two of your fingers start to circle your clit after gathering up some of the wetness that you’ve dripped over the base of his cock. Rubbing faster and faster, loving how he groans your name as your walls flutter around him and hug tight. “You feel so fucking good.”

Dave groans in agreement, cock pulsing and his hips stutter as he tries to keep working up into you. “Fuck.”

You pull your fingers away from your clit and work on riding him a little harder, focusing on his high and the gorgeous groans he’ll reward you with as he spills into you. “Please, baby.” You beg, “Fill me up, Dave, pleeeaaaaase.”

Shit, he’s never had someone beg him to fill them up like that. Not even when they were trying for Alice. He gasps your name again as he’s thrown over the edge. Rocking his hips up to bury himself inside you to fill you up like you begged.

“Fuck. You’re perfect,” you whine, as it expertly hits that spot inside of you. “You going to cum for me, baby?”

“Yes.” The word is spat out as he starts to cum, growling as his cock pulses inside you.

You bite down on your lip as his cum floods your pussy, each thrust makes you chant his name like sacred prayer.

He groans, pulling you forward to collapse against him. “Fuck.” He pants quietly.

“How was that?” You ask quietly, as your body sags against him.

"Good." He groans, his hand sliding up and down your back as he continues to twitch inside you.

You hum happily before leaning forward and placing a fleeting kiss on his shoulder. “What’s next?”

He had cum a lot quicker than he normally does. Another couple of hours before Carol would miss him, if she wasn't already asleep by the time he got home. "You want another round?" He asks, amused with how greedy you are.

“Yes sir,” you say with a nod of your head, a smile stretching across your face.

"Greedy." He huffs quietly. "How much will you charge me?"

“Nothing extra” you say, with a shrug, your face heating up as he reminds you that this is all transactional.

He tuts and shakes his head, wondering if you understand that you should charge him more. You might enjoy it, but this is supposed to be something where you are paid for sex.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” you whisper quietly, changing the subject from money.

"From behind." He decides. "On your stomach."

You shuffle off him and lay flat on your stomach wondering what’s in store for you, knowing it’ll take a little while for him to harden again.

"No, not now." Dave shakes his head. "Turn onto your back and spread your legs."

“Oh,” you say, “Sorry.” Before turning around and doing as he commanded.

"It's going to take me a while to get it up again." He flashes you a sardonic grin. "Getting old." His hand slides up your thigh and he hums when he sees the first beads of his cum starting to push out of your cunt. "So I'm going to push my cum back inside you while we wait."

You hate the way your body immediately reacts to his hands on you, even just sliding them up your thighs he has you keening and wanting to beg for more. His tongue pokes out of lips, and you have to bite down on your own, so you don’t beg him to kiss you. “Touch me,” you plead softly instead.

"I'm going to touch you." His fingers slide through the slick of his cum and he gathers it on his fingers to push back inside you.

His fingers are like magic, pushing deep into you and teasing nirvana inside of you. You watch the concentration on his face, as he touches your pussy, and as he pushes his spend back where you need it.

“Can I—,” you start to ask, before stopping yourself, wondering if he’d be mad at you making a request, when it’s him paying you. But you can’t help yourself, “Can I taste us?” You ask shyly, “From your fingers?”

He grins, pushing his fingers deep to make sure they are coated in cum before he pulls them free and offers them to you. Smearing the wetness around your lips.

Your hands come up and hold on gently onto his wrist, and after he’s finished spreading your mixed release across your lips, you open your mouth and close your lips around his fingers. Sucking them gently, whilst swirling your tongue around his thick digits. Moaning at the delicious taste of you both swirled together.

"Taste good?" He asks, soft cock twitching because of the fluttering of your tongue against his fingers.

“So good, baby,” you mewl, swirling your tongue around his fingers one more time.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and slides them back down to your cunt to tease and push more of his cum back inside you.

“Why don’t you have a taste?” You ask, as he pushes his fingers inside your cunt.

"Maybe later." Dave watches you as he curls his fingers up.

He pulls a loud gasp of his name from you with minimal effort, he fingers curling up expertly inside of you. “What if I beg?” you ask between moans, “Should I beg you to lick my clit? Knock $100 off the bill?”

He chuckles and keeps his fingers buried inside you. "You are bad with money." He teases, leaning in and nipping your collar bone.

“Is your tongue not worth $100, Dave?” You tease, before yelping as his teeth dig into you.

"You should be charging me to suck my cum out of your cunt."

“Yeah? Maybe I will. What is it that I'm getting tonight again? $500? Minus the $10 for that bet you roped me in on Thursday?”

"$700." He chuckles again.

“$701.” You say with a giggle, “I’m gonna charge you $1 to eat my little pussy.”

"Really bad with money." Dave jokes, curling his fingers up inside you again as he shifts between your thighs.

“I can demand more if you really want me to,” you laugh.

"Good." He nips the inside of your thigh. He knows you have to make money, you have bills you need to pay. He's not going to take advantage of you. "What do you want?" He asks, flicking his tongue over your clit.

“More,” is the only thing you can bring yourself to say, it already feels incredible, he laps at your clit so perfectly. Making you writhe and moan beneath him with ease. “Keep your fingers buried inside me,” you plead, before losing yourself in him. The only thing you can concentrate on is the way his tongue feels on your pussy, and how good he looks between your thighs.

You're bossy, but he's not too concerned about that. He likes that you are telling him what you want. That you are demanding pleasure from him. Demanding that he lick his cum from. your folds. He hums and flicks his tongue again while obeying your orders.

“You look so fucking good,” you praise him, “You look fucking gorgeous while you’re eating my pussy.” Your fingers tangle in his hair and you give him a little tug, loving the way he snarls back at you. “Larissa told me that you only fuck girls twice,” you say breathlessly, “But I meant what I said… If you want to do this -ohfuckbaby- if you want to do this one more time; you can fuck my ass. I’ll never let anyone else do it ever. You wanna pay to fuck my ass, baby?”

Dave hisses into your cunt, the idea already making him harden and twitch at the idea. He wanted to. He wants to be the only one to fuck your ass. He groans and curls his finger up as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

It makes you giggle when he hisses, your words clearly getting to him and you know he wants it. “Fuck,” you moan, as he brings you closer to the that edge, “Make me cum, Dave.”

He growls again, loving how you tug on his hair and he sucks on your clit like it is the last thing he will ever do. Curling his fingers up again as he does.

Your thighs start to shake, and before you have time to grasp it’s happening, they’re clamping down around his head as he pulls on earth shattering orgasm from you. Your hips rocking up against his face, throughout your high as you chase more and more from him. It’s messy, it’s loud and it’s fucking filthy.

He doesn't pull away, doubling down on the pressure as he licks and sucks. Pumping his fingers deeper and harder inside your spasming walls as he draws every sound out of you that he possibly can until you push him away.

“Fuck,” you gasp, looking up at his face that’s glistening with your cum. He looks as wrecked as you feel, he snarls at you a few times as you pull at your hardened nipples. His cock is rock hard again, resting heavily against his stomach and the tip is an angry red that’s begging for release.

“No safe words. No traffic light system,” you say with jagged breaths, “Everything is on the table, I want you to fucking destroy me, Dave. Right now.”

It's like the restraints have been cut free. Bonds have fallen away and the only reason he's not flipping you over and shoving his cock in your virgin asshole is because you will need to be worked open to take him. His hands are bruising, harsh as he flips you over and his hand leaves a welt on your ass as he lines up with your dripping cunt. Snapping his hips forward to bury his length inside you within seconds of your last word coming out of your mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” you choke out, as he takes what he needs from you. “Use me. However you need.” His hands are rough, but you crave more and more. You crave him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, can’t believe you’re touching me… fucking me.”

He swears he's never been this frantic. This rough. Unhinged as he pushes his hips forward again and again as he nearly fucks you into the bed from the force of his thrusts.

“Good boy,” you grit, as he fucks you so forcefully that your legs start to buckle. “So fucking good. God. You’re so fucking perfect. Always working so hard for your family… working so hard for everyone.”

Snarling, Dave grabs the back of your neck, squeezing it harshly as he rams his cock as deep as he can. "Fuck."

You’re pretty sure your legs are about to give way beneath you, so you grab onto the headboard. “Fucking perfect,” you choke back at him, your abused pussy grips around his length as he plows into that delicious spot inside of you. “Fucking love this cock.”

He doesn't know how you are talking. Every punishing swing of his hips forces the air out of your lungs. Fucking the very air from your body as he pumps his cock into you.

You gasp as the next thrust turns your legs into jell-o, your arms no longer holding you up as you crumble into the mattress. You try to push yourself back up but it’s no use, but that doesn’t stop him, he continues his relentless pace.

Another few thrusts and Dave is pulling back, flipping you onto your back and shoving your legs up onto his shoulders as he drives back into you. Folding you over and pushing into you with hard, fast thrusts as he fucks himself down into your exposed cunt.

“Dave,” you scream as his thrusts rip the air from your lungs, he looks fucking wrecked as he destroys you. Every snap of his hips is designed to be punishing as you sink further into his mattress. You can see in his face how much he needs this, how badly he’s been craving this kind of release and you love that you’re the one to give it to him.

He doesn't know why he does it, maybe it's because he can. Or that under normal circumstances, he would never, but his hand comes out and he slaps your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you, just to surprise you.

You gasp. Shock apparent on your face, as his hand makes contact with your cheek. “Again,” you say quietly, as the fleeting sting makes your pussy clamp down like a vice around him.

Groaning, Dave doesn't let up his brutal pace but the sting of his hand on your cheek is a bit sharper.

“Fuck.” You grit out, as your cheek burns. “You want to mark me up? Slap me? Bite me? Fucking do it.” The words leave your mouth so easily, that it shocks you, but the urge to give this man everything is overwhelming. The need to please him is the only thing in the world that matters to you right now. “My body is yours.”

Your body will wear his teeth marks. He sucks and bites everywhere he can reach. Wanting to make sure that you feel him for days.

You hiss in pleasure as his teeth sink into your soft skin, before he picks up his pace again. Your fingers snake down to your needy clit and you start to rub circles into it, loving the way his cock harshly pounds into you.

"You better cum." He grunts, "better cum." He hisses it through his teeth as he bites down on another inch of your flesh.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe out, as you rub your little bundle of nerves a little faster. Feeling that fire set alight inside of you, it doesn’t take long until your walls are fluttering around him. Your pussy greedily sucking onto his cock as he continues his pace, “I’m gonna cum,” you manage to choke out before you’re convulsing in pleasure. Clamping down so hard that you’re pretty sure your pretty little cunt is choking his thick fat cock.

Still, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even change his pace when your walls start to strangle his cock. It requires more force, more pressure but he just keeps hammering away.

You flood his cock as you cum, gushing all over his length and dripping down his balls as you squeeze hard around him. All you know is white hot pleasure as he thrusts relentlessly throughout and as you come down from your orgasm. He grits something out from behind his teeth but you’re too deliriously blissed out to make out what he said.

He doesn’t want to fill you this time. Wants to paint your skin with his cum and watch it dry on your flesh.

You feel his hips begin to stutter, and notice his breath gets shakier. But he’s still refusing to let up on his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, only just drowned out by your moans.

The muscles in his arms bunch, straining from the effort to keep himself over you. Grunt and wiping away his sweat as he works towards the best fucking orgasm of his life.

“Cum,” you say softly, a plea not a demand, needing him to feel the kind of release that’ll free him of years of holding himself back.

He hisses, eyes nearly black as he holds your gaze. pumping into you once, twice more before he is pulling free of your body and quickly stroking himself. Grunting as he starts to spurt his cum all over your skin.

You both stare into each other's eyes as he coats your skin. He’s doing exactly what you had said, he’s marking you. Temporarily covering you with something that confirms even if it’s just for a little while that your body is his.

"Shit." Dave groans, milking his cock for the last drops of his cum as your body heaves and trembles on the bed beneath him.

“Dave,” you say, barely above a whisper, “That was what you needed.” You lift a hand up to gently move the hair from his face, and let it linger for a few seconds before pulling it away. Exhaustion evident in your bones.

He frowns slightly as your body practically melts into the bed. You are exhausted obviously and Dave can't have you driving home. Your eyes are barely fluttering as you fight to keep them open. "You are going to sleep here." He decides, even though it will be the first time he's ever had someone stay in the apartment.

“I’ll be okay,” you say, hearing the unease in his voice, “It’s not a far drive.” You can feel your body starting to drift towards sleep, despite what you’re saying.

"No, you aren't." He murmurs, watching you fall asleep as he sits there. Huffing in amusement as he shakes his head.

It doesn’t take long until you’re flat out, dreaming peacefully as your achy bones get a much needed rest. In sleep, your arms wrap around his pillow and you bring it closer to your chest.

He climbs out of the bed and moves towards the bathroom to clean up. You have fallen asleep with his cum on your body. After he redresses, he pulls out his wallet and pulls out another $700 to lay on the dresser. You are out cold and he pulls up the comforter over your nude body. "Sleep well."

For the first time in a long time, you fall asleep and stay asleep the entire night. Snuggled up comfortably in a bed that isn’t yours, blissfully unaware of the front door opening and closing as he slips out and makes his way home.

****

"Hon, I'm going to run and grab some coffee." Dave kisses Carol's still sleeping form and smirks when she grunts and snuggles into her pillow even more. "'kay." she mumbles and immediately drifts off to sleep again, completely unaware of anything.

He's not going to get coffee. Or, he is, but that's not all he's doing. He wants to check on you this morning. Make sure you are okay since he couldn't exactly check in with you when you were asleep.

You’re still fast asleep as he re-enters the apartment, your body snuggled up to the pillow that smells like him as he comes into the room. Clutching two large cups of coffee.

He can't help but laugh when he finds you still asleep. Impressed with how well you seem to sleep in a bed that isn't yours. The faith you have in the arrangement is surprising. He sets the coffee down on the bedside table next to your money and starts to gather up the wash rags. He'll strip the bed himself after you wake up.

The inviting smell of coffee makes you stir, and slowly you open your eyes. The first thing you notice is how sore you are, your poor pussy aching after the delicious battering it took, the second is the sound of someone shuffling around in the bathroom. With a wince, you push yourself up and get the coffee, taking a large sip before setting it back down on the table before calling out his name.

Coming back into the room, Dave smirks when he sees you, disheveled and sleepy eyed. "Apparently I fucked you into a coma." He teases, balling up the towels and throwing them down on the floor. "Sleep good?"

“I didn’t realize that sex could turn a person to jell-o,” you say with a giggle, “Yeah. Like a baby. Thank you for letting me stay, I think I would have fallen asleep before turning the key in the ignition.”

"You weren't going anywhere." Dave shakes his head. "It would have been too dangerous." Even if he hadn't been comfortable with the idea, your safety was priority over that. "You want to take a shower? All the cum is dried on your skin."

“Probably best I wash it off before going home,” you agree. “I won’t be long.” Pushing yourself up on your feet, you feel your joints groan in disapproval. But the discomfort is a surprisingly welcome reminder, a way to remember just how real the night before was.

"Take your time." Dave shoots you a grin. "You seem a little sore this morning."

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you say as you stand completely bare in front of him.

"Oh I don't mind taking the blame for that." He boasts smugly. "Proud of that."

You giggle as you walk to the bathroom, “I bet you are, sir.”

When the shower turns on, Dave starts to strip the sheets, carrying them through the apartment to the washing machine. Deciding that he will start it after you get out of the shower before he leaves. The housekeeper would appreciate it.

The hot water feels incredible on your aching joints, so you stand there for a few minutes and just let it cover you before cleaning your skin. Running your fingers across the dried cum that’s coating your body before washing it off. It doesn’t take long for you to decide that you need to get out and eat, so you hurry yourself up and get dried and dressed as quickly as you can.

“Thank you,” you say as you enter the kitchen, where he’s waiting patiently, “The hot water helped.”

"No problem." Dave takes your towel and rag to toss into the machine with the sheets. "Take it easy this week."

“Yeah, I don’t think I have much choice.” You say quietly, with a little smirk.

"Don't worry about that." Dave dismisses your protest. "I dropped by to check on you. Bring you some coffee."

“Yeah, thank you, I drained the cup immediately,” you admit. “And thank you for last night.”

"Thank you." He hums as he turns back. "Oh shit, hang on." He pulls his wallet out again and pulls out another $100. "For eating your pussy." He teases as he holds it out to you.

“No,” you say with a giggle, “That was $1.”

"Don't have any change." He shrugs and smirks at you. "Guess it's your lucky day."

“Dave,” you say with a sigh, “I can’t. But thank you. $700 is more than enough. And I guess we should really get going.”

"Take the money." Dave grunts, serious this time. "You need it." He's not being benevolent. You need money and you had given him far more than he had expected last night.

After a few moments of him staring you down, you relent and take the money. “Thank you, I really enjoyed last night.”

"I enjoyed last night too." He smirks and tilts his head towards you.

“Good,” you say with a smile. You wait to see if he brings up seeing you again next week but he doesn’t, so you tuck the money into your purse and reach for your jacket. “I should go.”

"I'll walk you out." He offers, grabbing his coat and walking towards the door. "Big plans for today?"

“Going to swing by the grocery store and head home, you?”

"Gotta take the girls to some Disney brunch that Carol planned for today." Dave shrugs and smiles as he imagines how excited the girls will be. "Then I've got to do the yard work. You know? The honey-do list every man gets saddled with on the weekends."

“Honestly, disney brunch sounds incredible, I’m jealous,” you admit as you walk out with him, “Ah, yes. Happy wife, happy life.”

"That seems to be the motto, yeah." Dave shrugs. If he finds the conversation unusual to be having with someone he just fucked last night, he doesn't show it. When he reaches your car, he waits patiently as you unlock your door. "Drive safe, okay?" He offers with a smile.

“You too,” you offer back, lingering for a few moments before opening the door and stepping in. You can’t pretend you didn’t want him to suggest another meet up, even if it was just once more, but you had been told that he doesn’t like to see girls more than a few times so you shouldn’t be surprised.

Dave contemplates telling you to meet him here next Saturday, but he doesn't. Wanting more time to think about it as well as giving you a chance to change your mind. If you come here again, he's going to fuck your ass.

He watches you drive away and you give him a little wave as you begin your journey home. You go over the events of the night before and how good it felt to give him all the power. To let him hear exactly what he needed to hear.

****

He lasts until Wednesday. Leaving the office and pulling out the extra phone to send you a text. 'Saturday? Same time? If I can still fuck your ass.'

You had hoped that the offer was enough to make him change his mind and you grin ear to ear after receiving the text. After you had left on Sunday, you had driven to the grocery store and made an unscheduled visit to another store across the retail park.

You wanted to prepare yourself just in case he wanted to take you up on the offer, so out of sheer curiosity you entered the store. Speaking briefly to the shopgirl about your plans, she had suggested a small plug, one that you could wear around without noticing it after a while.

Silver with a cute heart shaped gem at the base. Feeling particularly excited, you decide to show him just how much you still want him to take you back there.

You type out ‘Was hoping to hear from you… I’ll be ready for you,’ before attaching a photo. One that shows your glistening pussy and the base of the plug sitting pretty in your puckered hole.

Dave grunts, cock twitching in his pants as he stares at the photo. Loving how you have started to prepare even if you didn't know he was going to text you again. '$1000 to fuck that pretty little asshole of yours'

‘Perfect, can’t wait. See you Saturday.’

Excitement starts to bubble up in your stomach and you can only hope that the next few days pass quickly.

The week passes incredibly slowly for Dave. The sex on Thursday just as boring as it normally is but he thinks about how he had fucked you last week as he fucked her. It had made it somewhat better than normal. Although when Saturday night comes around, he is leaving the house, rushing to the apartment and eager to find out if you were ready to take his cock.

You arrive at seven on the dot. A tube of lube sits in your purse, despite being sure he already has some you want to make sure. You had done your research and wanted to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible.

“Good evening,” you say as he opens the door.

"Hey." Dave smirks as you shift in the doorway and he opens it wider for you to come inside. "Are you nervous?"

“A little,” you admit honestly, “But I’m more excited. I like giving you what you want, and I know how much you want this.”

He chuckles and closes the door behind you. "Are you wearing that plug?" He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” you say with a grin, “It’s pretty isn’t it? Bought it after leaving here on Sunday. ”

"I figured you did." Dave hums. "I want to see it."

Without another word you make your way to the bedroom, undoing the buttons on your dress on the way and shedding it the second you’re in the room. Having foregone wearing any underwear tonight, you turn around to face him.

He walks slowly behind you, watching and humming in approval at how eager you are. "Bend over baby, show me that plug."

It’s the first time he’s used an endearment on you, and it makes your breath hitch and your pussy clench. “Yes, sir,” you smile sweetly, before doing as you're told.

He groans, eyes fixed on the little bejeweled end of the plug. "Does it feel good, baby? You like it inside your little asshole?"

You wonder if he can see your pussy clench as he calls you baby again, loving the way it makes you feel. “Feels so good, my pussy feels so much tighter with it in. Could barely push two of my fingers inside of me last night.”

"Hmmmm." He reaches down and rubs his cock through his pants. "So you had to touch yourself last night, huh? I jerked off thinking about you. Stretching that little hole around my cock."

“Yes, baby, played with my tight little pussy thinking about you. Dreaming about the things I want you to do to me. Mhmm, I want to see you stroke your cock. Watch you cum.”

He chuckles quietly, aware that you aren't going to be getting your way tonight. Your little asshole is going to take his load and he's going to watch it drip out.

The urge to kiss him is one that’s getting harder to ignore, but you push it away. “So are you going to fuck this tight little ass or not?” You say, feeling impatient.

"Do you want me to spank you?" He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” you say, without hesitation. “Come get this pussy all wet.”

His eyes darken, excited that you are going to let him do whatever he wants to you. "Lay down."

“Okay, baby,” you say, excitement evident in your voice. You figure this is the last time you see him, so you’re determined to make it a good night.

"On your stomach." He orders, starting to strip down himself.

Without a word you flip onto your stomach, grateful that it’ll take away the urge to capture his lips with yours.

"Ass up." He orders. "Show me that little plug again."

Obeying his command you shake your hips a little, and wait for him to come over.

He chuckles, admiring the way your ass shakes. "Such an eager little slut."

“Just for you,” you say looking over your shoulder, “You bring it out in me.”

That comment makes him hiss in pleasure. Happy that he could make you craven for his cock. He's naked now, his cock hard and jutting out as he wraps his fist around it. "Good girl."

“I want you to feel how tight my pussy is with the plug before you fuck my ass,” you tell him, “Come get that cock nice and wet.”

"Jesus Christ." His hand caresses your ass before he slaps it once, twice, three times and groans when he feels how hot it is.

“You know you’ve ruined all other men for me,” you say with a giggle, “Will spend the rest of my life knowing that no cock will live up to yours.”

He doubts that, but his cock twitches at your praise. "Gonna ruin you even more."

“Please,” you beg, “Make me yours. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

He groans and doesn't hesitate to notch his cock at your wet cunt to push inside you. Moaning your name at how tight you feel with the plug still nestled inside your ass.

He feels like heaven, you hiss at the stretch of him but you still want more, so you clench down around him, willing him to make you scream.

Dave grunts, reaching down and tugging on the end of the plug and pushing it deeper inside you while he starts to rock his hips. “Fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you almost yell, it stings a little but you love it. “Oh my god, Dave.”

“Feel so good baby.” He groans, rubbing your ass and slapping the other cheek. “So tight.”

“Keep calling me baby,” you beg, as you rock your hips back to meet his thrust. “Please.”

“You like that?” He’s surprised but he will keep calling you that if you want. “Huh, baby? You like me playing with your plug?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I think I could cum from you calling me baby alone. You going to make me cum and then fuck my ass? Claim what’s already yours.”

“Have I let you down yet?” He grunts, enjoying the way that you squeeze him.

“No, baby,” you giggle, rocking your hips back hard. Needing to cum quickly, as you’re desperate for him to overwhelm you. Ready to feel him every time you move again for the next few days. “So, make me cum, Dave.”

Dave huffs, amused by your sassy attitude and your commands. But he listens to you. One hand toys with your plug while the other rubs your clit. His hips rocking quickly as he fucks you.

You moan his name as his hand expertly works your clit, rubbing the little bundle of nerves so perfectly that he has you worked up in no time. He increases the speed as you start to clamp down on his cock, flooding his length with your cum while he rocks in and out of you. “Harder, baby,” you beg, before he throws you over that edge.

He chuckles, leaning down and biting your shoulder as he slaps your clit lightly.

“You’re fucking amazing,” you choke out as you come down, and fall forward off his cock “So fucking amazing.”

Dave hums and twists the plug, pulling it out of your grasping hole with a small pop. “You ready for me here, baby?” He asks.

“I’m ready for you,” you say nodding your head, “Wreck me again, Dave.”

“I’m going to go slow.” He shuffles off the bed to grab the lube from the nightstand.

“Okay,” you say, as you watch him get the lube and start to generously coat his length.

He brings the tube over to the bed with him and taps your hip. “On your back, I’m going to put a pillow under your ass.”

Turning around slowly, you look up at him and smile, lifting your hips so he can position a pillow beneath them. “You’re so fucking sexy,” you whisper as you look up at his face.

“You’re biased because I’m about to shove my cock in your ass.” He jokes.

“No,” you say softly, “You’re gorgeous… you fucking me is just a bonus.”

His fingers make sure that the lube is smeared around your hole and he can't help but press them into you. Feeling the resistance until he breeches you and groans at how tight your walls immediately grip his digits.

The noise you make is filthy, and it makes him chuckle. “Fuck,” you whimper, loving the small taste of what’s about to come.

He doesn't immediately pull his fingers out, pushing them deeper and scissoring them to open you up more and work the lube deeper. It will help you take him.

His brow furrows in concentration and he works you open, a smirk splashed across his face as you call his name.

When he slips a third finger inside you, he knows that you are ready and pulls his fingers free. "Just a little bit more lube."

“Okay, baby,” you say breathlessly, ready for whatever he’s going to give to you.

Dave squirts some more lube onto his fingers and coats the ring of your hole before he grips your hip. "Ready?"

“I’m ready.”

He takes his time lining up. Savoring the moment as he watches his cock press against the tight little hole he is about to claim.

“Take what’s only yours,” you plead quietly.

That is what makes him start to push his hips forward. The pressure of your puckered skin exquisite against the head until it yields. Giving way as he starts to breach you.

You whimper as he pushes inside on you, your fingers gripping the sheets and your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. It immediately stings, but you refuse to let it show, wanting him to claim you in a way no else has and no one else will.

Once the head is completely in, he stops. Caressing your ass as he waits for you to get used to him. He doesn't want you to rip, to just endure him taking you like this. He wants you to enjoy it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, once he’s stopped.

"I'm good, baby." He promises. "Just letting you get used to it. I know it has to feel strange."

“It does, but I like it,” you say, before reaching up and stroking his chest. “You feel so good.”

"You want to take a little more?" He asks, smirking slightly.

You nod and smile, letting your hand fall back down to the sheets, ready to grip them once he starts to move again.

You take another two inches of his cock. Keeping his hips rocking slowly, trying to be as gentle as he can even though you are tighter than a glove around him.

The whimpers that slip through your lips are loud, but you can’t help yourself. The stretch is overwhelming, but you focus only on the pleasure in his face as he fills you.

"Good girl." He groans, "you're doing so good, baby." He pulls his hips back as he rocks just a bit deeper into you.

“More,” you gasp out, ready for him to fill you to the hilt.

You enjoy the pain. Biting his lip, Dave snaps his hips forward and buries the rest of his length into your virgin ass.

You yelp as he fills you, a sharp pain rips through you but he’s immediately soothing you. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how good you feel around his cock.

"So good, baby." He coos, leaning down and biting your shoulder. "It'll pass. It'll feel good. I promise." He groans, twitching inside you. "Do you feel how badly I want you? How I want this? You're the only one to give it to me."

“You’re the only one, I’ll ever give it to,” you gasp out, as you start to adjust to the heft of him. The throbbing lessening as you start to relax around him.

He groans, twitching again at your words. He loves that. Loves that you are promising to never let anyone else have this. Even if you did not mean it.

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly, needing to give him release, needing to hear him groan your name in pleasure, “I can take it.”

"Not just yet." He shakes his head. "You wouldn't be able to take it right now, baby. We need to ease you into this."

“I want to make you feel good.”

"I do feel good." Dave groans, biting your shoulder again.

You moan as he sinks his teeth into you, before reaching down and rubbing your clit, needing something more.

"Such a greedy little thing." He grunts, watching you rub your clit. Your walls tremble around him and he rocks his hips deeper to grind into you more.

“You do this to me,” you moan, as you chase your pleasure. Feeling yourself clench around his cock and whimpering at the sensation.

"I do?" He grunts, starting to pull back slowly. Letting you feel every inch of him moving inside you.

“You do,” you say, as he starts to overwhelm you in the best possible way. “I’m ready, Dave, I can take it.”

He doesn't comment, he just grabs your hips and pulls your ass up slightly as he starts to push back into you.

You continue working your clit, as he slowly starts fucking into you. You can see from his face that he’s not going to last long once he finds his pace, so you start circling your bud a little faster, trying to concentrate on the pleasure rather than the pain.

"You're so goddamn tight." He grunts, biting his lip. "So goddamn tight. Like a vice around my cock."

“Yeah? Tell me how good I feel, Dave.”

"I'm going to destroy you." He vows with a hiss, growling at how good you feel.

“Then do it,” you challenge.

He chuckles and pulls his hips back so he can surge back into you.

Your breath hitches in preparation for what he’s about to do, your fingers gripping the sheets ever harder, “Fuck me, Dave.”

"Sure thing, baby." He groans, digging his fingers in your hips and starts moving. Groaning when your tight walls squeeze him.

It hurts, you can’t pretend it doesn’t, but the look of pleasure on his face is the only thing you care about. “Fuck,” you hiss, as he builds up a delicious pace. Fucking your little hole like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

"Shit." He groans, easing up on how hard he thrusts slightly. The pinch of your brow when he bottoms out bothers him and he wants to hear you moan rather than just taking him.

“Keep going,” you plead, noticing how he’s decreased his speed. “N-need you to fill me up.”

"I'm going to." He promises. "But I want you to cum, baby." He groans. "I need it. I need to feel it." As much as he loves being in control and being able to do what he wants, he loves a woman being free enough to cum for him. To have her pleasure.

You nod your head and start to rub your clit again, circling your bundle of nerves and focusing on his face. Unable to tear your eyes away from his as he works himself in and out of your tightest hole.

Only when your breath starts to change does he speed up. Once your legs start to tighten around his hips every time he drives into you, he knows you are enjoying yourself. "You love it don't you, baby?" He demands. "Feeling my cock in your ass, pulsing and ready to fill you up."

“Yes,” you cry out as you still clamp down around him, “You feel so fucking good.”

He grunts, rocking his hips faster. "Keep rubbing your pretty clit." He groans. "Want to feel you squeeze me tight."

“I am,” you say with a raised eyebrow, knowing he wants you to speed it up.

Your fingers work your clit even faster, chasing that peak as you continue to squeeze and clamp down around him. “I’m gonna cum,” you warn, feeling yourself approaching that edge.

"Good." He grunts, watching you rub your clit, watching his cock pierce deep into your body. Watching your face scrunch up in pleasure.

You chant his name as you near your high, feeling yourself get closer and closer. And then almost screaming his name as you start to cum, clamping down so hard around him that it hurts.

Snarling, Dave can't help but fuck into you faster, pushing you harder as you cum around absolutely nothing and he watches your cunt leak out and down to where his cock is pistoning in and out of your other hole.

Words get lodged in your throat as he fucks your through your high, his groans get louder and the movement on his hips a little sloppier. You love how his cock throbs inside of you, as he grinds his hips into yours.

It doesn't take much longer. Not now that you've cum. Pace faltering and desperate groans accompanying the last few thrusts until he is stilling inside you. Pressed deep and wishing he could get deeper as he starts to flood your passage with hot spurts of his seed. Pumping it into you with every small thrust of his hips.

With every thrust he fills you, cumming deep inside of you and telling you how good you feel and how well you did for him. The praise makes you keen beneath him, whilst looking up and watching his face contorted in pleasure, continuing to thrust gently until he’s finished cumming.

Panting, Dave presses his forehead against yours. Savoring the last moments of closeness before he needs to pull out of you. His eyes slip closed and he hums slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

It’s hard to ignore the urge as his lips are almost brushing against yours, just millimeters away, so you don’t. You bring your hand up and lightly press it to his jaw and you press your lips to his. Moving them gently against his and almost swearing you could feel him kissing you back, until you’re being pushed away, back into the pillow and noticing how quickly his face has changed from pure bliss to anger.

Instantly his grip turns hard, pushing away from you like he's been stabbed in the back. "What the fuck are you doing?" He hisses, not easing out of you like he had planned but ripping free of your body as he glares at you.

You whimper as a sharp pain jolts through you as he pulls out, “I’m sorry, Dave, I di—, I’m sorry.” You stutter before whimpering from the pain.

"You're sorry?" He demands, sneering at you. "You're sorry?" He grabs your arms and pulls you up to shake you. "You're not my fucking wife." He roars. "I don't kiss whores like you!" He hates himself for kissing you back, for softening towards you and his reaction is purely based on that.

You look away from him, tears welling up in your eyes and you push him away. Getting up off the bed and rushing over to where your dress is. Putting it on as quickly as you can and going out to where your purse is in the living room, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing pain between your legs. You close up the last few buttons on your dress and slip on your shoes, wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

Sliding into his boxers, Dave doesn't care about the need to clean up, the tears in your eyes. Still furious that you broke the unspoken but obvious rule that he had. He stalks over to his pants and pulls out his wallet. "Get the fuck out." He demands, thrusting the agreed upon money towards you.

“Fuck you,” you sob as you take a step towards the door, “I’d rather starve than take another cent from you.”

Dave throws the bills at you, anger twisting his features. "Don't fucking come back."

You let the money fall down around you, and refuse to pick it up. Leaving it all behind as you slam the door, and rush towards the elevator.

Chest heaving, Dave glares at the door as he listens to the echo of your footsteps fade. A muffled sob sounding and he reaches up and wipes his lips, angry that he kissed you back. Angry that he wanted to kiss you again. That was the most fucked up thing of all.

****

A few days pass and you start to feel a little better. A local cafe had offered you the job you had applied for and you were due to start the following Monday, so things were looking up.

You still refused to think about that night and pushed it all away the best that you could, keeping your mind busy by finishing up some college work that you had been slightly neglecting.

By the time Wednesday comes, Dave feels guilty. He shouldn't have reacted like that and worse, you didn't take the money. He sighs and pulls out the burner phone to send you a text. 'You need to come pick up the money. You earned it'

You read the text over and over, considering ignoring it and just moving on but you’re fully aware of your current financial situation. That money would be great to keep you going until you get your first paycheck, so with a sigh you text back and wait for his response.

‘Where should I meet you? And when?’

'After work today. The apartment.’ He knows there is a bit of irony in that statement but it's the easiest place for you to meet him.

‘See you around 5:30.’ You text back before returning to your studying, not wanting to dwell on seeing him again.

The plan being to get there, pick up the money and immediately leave. Leaving no room for awkward conversation.

You shower and get dressed just before having to leave and make your way to the apartment, groaning at the traffic and the way it’s forcing you to deal with the nervousness that’s almost all consuming.

Dave arrives at the apartment and decides that he will just give you the money and let you leave. He won't talk to you. There's no reason since he won't be seeing you again and he doubts you will accept an apology from him for what he said. He sighs and checks his watch, wondering if you will just leave him waiting and not show up.

Due to traffic you arrive a little late, but refuse to apologize. Instead you knock the apartment door loudly and wait for his answer, deciding that you don’t need to go inside.

When the knock sounds, Dave walks over to the door and opens it. Hating how his heart clenches at the unhappy glare that is on your face.

“Hi,” you say meekly, wanting him to just hand you the money so you can get out of there and never see him again.

"I'm sorry." Dave blurts out immediately, breaking his own rule about not speaking to you the second you greet him. The envelope with the money is in his hand and he extends it to you. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but I am." The least he could do is this before you leave.

You nod a few times, unable to make eye contact with him before taking the envelope in his hands. “Thank you, Mr. York.”

"It's all there." He promises, dropping his hand and shoving it in his pocket. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks softly. Deciding to break his self imposed rule again and make sure he hadn't hurt you before you leave.

“A little,” you admit, not wanting to lie to him. “You ripped yourself out of me.” You look up at him for the first time, and can see how sorry he actually looks as you do.

"I'm sorry again." He murmurs, taking half a step towards you before he stops himself. You don't want him touching you. "I shouldn't have hurt you."

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you say, as you feel tears spring up to your eyes. “I should go. But thank you for letting me come and get this.”

"You deserve it." Dave insists, swallowing and frowning slightly as he watches you tuck the money into your purse. "You don't want to count it?"

“No, I’m sure it’s all there,” you say with a slight laugh, “Thanks again.”

"Thank you." He realizes you want to leave and have nothing to do with him, so he nods. Giving you a small smile, he sighs. "Goodbye."

Even after he says goodbye, your feet don’t move. Instead you stand there and stare at him, hating the way your traitorous heart falters at the thought of not seeing him again.

He frowns slightly, his hand on the door not trying to close it. "Do you…. want a drink?" He asks after another moment of staring at you.

“A drink would be good,” you say, knowing that you should leave but not wanting to go.

"Come inside." He offers, letting go of the door and letting it swing wide. "Unless you want to have it in the hall."

You step in and walk past him, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for him to bring you a drink.

Dave moves to the kitchen and pours you a glass of whiskey. He isn't quite sure what you drink but decided that just a neat drink would help.

“Thanks,” you say as he comes back in and passes you the glass. Taking a small sip of the amber liquid and placing it on the table in front of you.

It's a message but he's not quite sure what it means when you ignore the rest of the drink. He sits down in the chair and takes a sip of his own drink. "You aren't still sore, are you?" He asks after a moment.

“A little,” you say with a shrug, “It was a lot… and yeah, I made you mad, so you wanted to get out of me quickly. Didn’t help. But it’s better than it was.”

"I'm sorry." He repeats, hating that he had hurt you to the point where you are still sore. "I shouldn't have- I should have made sure that I pulled out slowly."

“It’s fine, I get that you were mad.” Picking up the glass on the table you take another sip, before shrugging again. “Nothing a few more epsom baths won’t fix.”

Dave frowns and shakes his head. "I will give you some money for whatever you need to....soothe the pain."

“I don’t need more of your money, Dave,” you say, a little frustrated that that seems to be the only way he deals with things. “It’s a few days old, sometimes things can take a little longer to start to feel better.”

"It's my fault." He argues. "The least I can do is make sure you don't have to pay for something you wouldn't normally."

You scoff loudly, “Stop. I know how you see me. But you’re wrong, I'm not just a ‘whore’, who’ll do whatever for a few bucks. I don’t need nor do I want your money, Dave.”

Dave's brow raises and he stares at you for a few moments. "So you aren't about to lose your apartment?" He asks, knowing the answer even as he asks the question.

“Fuck you,” you say, with a shake of your head. Regretting your decision to come in.

"I accept." Dave leans forward and lets his gaze bore into yours.

Your body immediately betrays you, and you feel yourself getting wetter under his glare. You should run, slam the door in his face but you can’t. Instead you slowly inch towards him, waiting for him to take the lead and make you forget everything but him.

"I hate that I still want you." Dave admits, sliding to the edge of his seat. "I only fuck the women in this apartment a few times to keep from having this." He grunts. "A connection. But I want you."

You can’t hide the shock on your face as he opens up to you, but you know he knows that you feel it too. “Looks like we’re both in the same boat. I want you too, Dave.”

He sighs, inching closer to you. "So what do you want?" He asks. "Baby."

“You’re only calling me that because you know what it does to me.” You say with the first genuine smile in days, “I want you. Nothing else. Just you.”

"Move in here." Dave offers, his own smile starting to peek through the serious facade. The idea seems crazy and impulsive, but it’s actually one that makes sense.

“What?” You say in complete disbelief, “I can’t afford rent at my shitty apartment… you think I can afford to live here?”

"It wouldn't cost you a penny." He tilts his head. "I already have the apartment."

“So you’d let me live here for free?”

"Why not?" He asks, shrugging slightly. "I've already come to the conclusion there won't be another woman coming here every Saturday."

Lifting off the sofa you place a leg over his and slowly straddle him, “So, you’ll be my landlord? That I pay in different ways?”

That makes him smirk as he leans back in the chair. "If that's how you want to look at it." His hands land on your thighs and he slowly slides his palms up.

You hum happily, “Okay, I'll move in. Means I can be naked and waiting for you every time you come to see me.”

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks, holding on to your hips. “Be naked and waiting for me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, “Whenever you need it.”

“Even if it’s more than once a week?”

“Fuck yes, whenever you need it.”

His cock twitches at your answer and he smirks. “I like your answer, baby.”

“Good,” you say with a smile, a slight roll of your hips. “This went better than I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” He asks, groaning slightly.

“To tell you you’re an asshole and storm off with your money,” you say with another roll of your hips.

“You still have my money.” He points out, his own hips rocking up. “Instead of storming off, why don’t you slap me and call me an asshole.” He suggests. “Then fuck me.”

“Is that what you want, baby?” you smirk, “Maybe I’ll punish you. Get you right to the edge and then stop…”

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, not liking that idea at all.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” you say as you start to unbuckle his belt. “I think you should just make this little pussy cum and that’s it.”

He rolls his eyes but he doesn’t stop you from unzipping his pants. If this is what you want to punish him, then he will let you do it. Once.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” you reveal as you pull on his pants, he lifts his hips and helps push them down his legs.

“So you wanted me to fuck you when you came over?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Nope,” you say, putting emphasis behind the ‘P’, “just didn’t feel like wearing any panties today,” you lie.

“Hmmmm.” Dave grabs your hips to stop you when you straddle him again. “Maybe we shouldn’t fuck today.” He suggests. “Since you’re sore.”

“You just want to put your mouth on me then?” You challenge back.

“Who says I would do that?” He asks, smirking at you.

“Me.”

Dave rolls his eyes again and shakes his head. “You think you’re gonna boss me around?”

“Yes,” you say with a playful smile, “For today anyway.”

“You’re lucky I’m feeling guilty.” He huffs, sending you a small wink.

“Mhmm,” you hum back, “Show me how much you want me, Dave.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be fucking me?”

You roll your eyes at him before pulling on your dress, hitching it above your hips and waiting for him to line his cock up ready for you to sink down on it.

Dave chuckles as he slides his hand down and presses his thumb against your clit. “Thought you wanted to be in control, baby?” He coos. “Cum on my cock and then leave me hanging.”

“I’m going to,” you say with a pout, before sinking down on him. Wincing at the way it stings, and giving yourself a few moments to adjust to him. “Have you begging me for relief.”

Dave groans, frowning slightly and when you start to pull up, he holds your hips tight. “Just stay still.” He urges you, sliding a hand around to rub your clit. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby.”

“Oh, are you gonna make me cum around your fat cock?” You gasp, as he expertly plays your bundle of nerves.

“Thought you wanted to cum?” He asks, watching your eyes flutter and hisses when your fingers dig into his shoulders.

“I do, I just didn’t realize you were going to do all the work.”

“You want to do the work?” He asks, his finger hovering over your clit. “I can let you do that if it’s what you want.”

“Nope,” you say, as you wrap your hand around his and push it back down. “I’m going to keep this cock warm and you’re going to make me cum.”

He chuckles and starts to rub. “Good girl.”

The room quickly fills with the sound of your soft moans, his fingers expertly pulling pleasure from you. Your eyes drift down to his lips and your heart skips a beat as you realize they’re off limits to you, when all you want is to feel them pressed against your own.

He’s watching you. Of course he is. He sees your eyes flicker down to his lips and he has a dilemma. He has broken all his self imposed rules where you are concerned. What is one more? “Kiss me.”

“Dave,” you say softly, before studying his face to see if he really means it. After a few moments you lean forward and press a fleeting kiss on his lips, a little afraid to push your luck.

His other hand slides up your back to cradle your head. Keeping you in place while he kisses you.

Your hands gently hold onto each side of his jaw, letting him take the lead and you open your mouth and let his tongue battle yours. His mouth feels like home. He kisses you with the most delicious intensity, the kind that makes you see fireworks and makes you melt into his arms. The kind that makes your entire world stop.

He keeps rubbing your clit while he’s kissing you. Aware of how your hips start to roll and you whine into his mouth while his tongue flicks against yours. Making him feed you a moan of his own.

You don’t ever want him to stop, his mouth slots against yours so perfectly, it’s like it was made for you. You grind down on him, wanting more of him, wanting to feel his cock twitch against your walls that are hugging him so tightly.

Pulling his tongue back, he kisses you again and again. “You gonna cum for me?” He asks raspily. “Little pussy gonna flood my cock, baby?”

“Yes,” you moan, against his lips, not wanting to part from them. He knows exactly where to thrust to find that heavenly spot inside of you, and he positions him to notch against it whilst continuing to rub your clit, chuckling when he feels your walls flutter around him. “So so close.”

“That’s it.” He coos, kissing you again. “That’s it, baby.”

Reluctantly you pull your lips from his, not wanting to risk biting down as you’re thrown off that edge. You clamp down tightly around him, gushing over his throbbing cock and chant his name. Feeling nothing but pleasure as he continues grinding up against your very own paradise.

When you are trembling, in the midst of your orgasm, he stops rubbing your clit and just watches. Amazed by the sight of your body shaking in pleasure and enjoying the pulsing, fluttering pressure of your walls around him.

“Fuck,” you giggle, as you start to come back down and everything comes back into focus. He’s watching you, still grinding his hips but concentrating on you. “Like the view?”

“More than I should.” He admits, shooting you a grin, but his hands softly squeeze your hips. “Feel good?”

“I feel amazing.” You gently press your lips to his again. “Come on baby, fill me up.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to cum?” He reminds you, pressing his kiss to your lips harshly. “My punishment.”

“Changed my mind.”

He hums and starts to move a little more. Still keeping the pace slower than normal. He knows you are still sore.

You rock your hips to meet his, wanting to feel him come undone inside your tight little cunt. “Cum for me,” you whisper softly against his lips.

“Shit.” He hisses, closing his eyes and rucks his hips up in abandon as he falls apart underneath you.

“Good boy,” you praise breathlessly against his neck, loving how it feels as he empties inside of you.

He huffs, about to say something sarcastic but you steal his breath. Just groaning as he holds tight to you.

“I’d let you stay buried in me forever,” you say, words pressed to his skin, “Fit so perfectly.”

He hums, turning his head and leaning in to kiss your shoulder as he pants. Trying to catch his breath and his spent cock twitches when you clench around him in an aftershock.

“Do you need a drink, old man?” you giggle, as he pants beneath you.

“Shut up.” He grumbles.

You giggle again, loving the way he groans as you flutter around his softening cock as you do so. Slowly you pull off of him and watch him immediately sink back against the chair before padding across the floor and into the kitchen and producing two bottles of water from the fridge. He hasn’t moved when you get back, and you fake sigh as you hand him his water. “I can see the headlines now… ’Poor old man fucked into an almost coma by younger sexy woman’.”

He gives you a half hearted glare, no real heat in his gaze as he takes the bottle from you. "It's not Saturday." He reminds you with a huff. "Not used to Wednesday sex."

“Poor baby,” you say as you straddle him again, peppering kisses wherever you can on his flushed skin. “Going to have to work on that stamina aren’t we?”

Grunting he takes a sip of his water and halfheartedly glares at you. "Are you saying that I can't have a break?"

“Maybe,” you say with the loudest giggle, “Maybe I’ll just have you eat my pussy and then let you leave.”

"Let me leave my apartment?" He snorts and sets his drink down to wrap his arms around you again. "Are you going to be here when I come back?" He asks, wanting to know if you were serious about moving in.

“Yes.” You say and you gently brush the hair out of his face, “If you want me to be.”

“This apartment sits empty for the entire week.” He explains. “You should use it. Seriously.”

“What if you get sick of me?” You ask, with genuine concern. “I’d die if I had to move back in with my parents, baby.”

“How many times have I fucked you now?” He asks quietly, aware that you have hang ups for the idea. Hang ups that he created.

“Not that many,” you answer, deadly serious, “You’re sure that it’s me you want every weekend? Larissa was so clear that you don’t sleep with girls more than two times, occasionally three if they’re lucky.”

“And you’ve been on my cock four times now.” He smirks. “I-I want you to stay. I was wrong for what I said. How I acted.”

“Okay,” you say, pressing your forehead against his, “But no more paying me afterwards. Oh and I need to talk to you about my new job.”

“New job?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes. I’m going to be doing the early morning shift at a cafe in town, which means being there at 4:30am by myself to get things ready. So on weeknights if you visit, we can’t be too strenuous.”

“I see.” Dave nods and strokes your back as he does. “Visits during the week will be rare.” He admits. “The girls are used to having me home unless I’m traveling.”

“That makes sense,” you say with a smile, “I just thought I'd warn you. I need to be up early.”

“I promise I won’t wear you out too badly.” He smirks and leans in to kiss you again.

“You should be getting home,” you say with a sigh, “And so should I. I need food.”

He pats your hip and when you slide off his lap, Dave fishes his pants up off the floor and digs his keys out. It's a separate set from his normal keys, ones that are for this apartment specifically. He takes off an extra key and holds it out to you. "You can start moving in whenever you want." He offers. "The housekeeper comes on Mondays and the code for the alarm system is 75332."

“Housekeeper?” You repeat with a raised eyebrow. “I have classes tomorrow but I can start Friday. Is there a washer & dryer on-site somewhere?”

He slides back into his pants and nods. "Through here." He shows you, walking through the kitchen into the area that was both a laundry room and a storage or pantry area. The sleek washer and dryer are normally only used once a week for the sheets, but he has a feeling that will change with you living here. "You can bring whatever you like, change whatever you want."

“They’re inside the apartment?” You say with an unbridled joy, “I might cum again.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You get off really easily then." He teases. "The entire apartment is equipped to be move-in ready, but I know that there has to be something you might need." He had furnished it in case he ever needed to use it as a safe spot to lay low, but he didn't actually live here.

“Sounds perfect,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, “And when’s the first payment due?”

He hums, smirking as he leans in to press his lips to yours. "Security deposit has already been paid." He teases before he turns serious. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything." He murmurs quietly. "If you ever wanted to leave, or...whatever, I don't hold you here."

“I know, baby,” you say before kissing him again, “Do you think you could get here a little earlier Saturday? So I can cook for you?”

He frowns slightly and then nods. "I am supposed to go out of town this weekend." He tells you. "I'll send my....team to go on without me and still tell Carol that I have to leave on Friday." Smirking slightly he shrugs. "Maybe I could help you move and spend the weekend here?"

“Are you sure?” You say, unable to hide the smile that’s spreading across your face.

"Unless you want me to stay home?"

“Shut up,” you say before pulling him in for a big kiss, “I can’t wait.”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head. "Then I'll see you on Friday."

You squeeze his hand before walking over to your purse and jacket, “Come on baby,” you can walk me out.

Dave follows you to the door and opens it, ready to leave as well. He had never meant to stay so long, but it had been worth it. "Drive home safe." He murmurs quietly as he closes the door behind the two of you and locks it. "The apartment is safe, the neighborhood is nice and quiet."

You say a soft goodbye, and make your way home. Deciding on takeout pizza and a quiet night before classes and packing tomorrow. The visit hadn’t gone to plan but still couldn’t have gone better. And the best news is it's only a few days until you’re going to be with him for the full weekend.

****

Dave frowns as his phone dings with a text and he pulls it out of his pocket. It's from you which is surprising since you are supposed to be working.

It's been three months since you have moved into the apartment and every chance he gets, he comes over to see you. Since you had no more worries about your living situation, you were flourishing in your classes and your job was going great. Every weekend, he would come to find you cooking or baking or generally dancing around the apartment, unless he comes in to find you naked and eager to have him fuck you. Either sight made him smile.

He opens the text and frowns even more as he reads it. From Baby: ‘Not feeling good. Sent home from work. Won't be able to see you this weekend. I'm sorry Dave.’

You sigh after punching out the text, devastated that you won’t get any time with him. Before taking a large sip of your water and snuggling up in your blankets, hoping you’ll feel better after a little sleep.

Dave lets himself into the apartment, his key fob disarming the security system before it starts to beep. He's happy you are using it, knowing that you feel safe here but you could never be too cautious. Closing the door behind him, he strides into the kitchen and sets down the bags that he had stopped to get before coming over.

Snuggled up in bed, sleep has you comfortably wrapped in its arms, you don’t hear him come in. Wearing the t-shirt he left here a few weeks ago and seemingly forgot about, you had let yourself be wrapped up in him the only way you could.

The soup is still hot, coming straight from the little restaurant down the road. Dave grabs it, the package of crackers and a bottle of Gatorade, but puts the rest of the stuff away before quietly coming down the hall to see how you are doing.

You’re asleep. Your arms around the pillow he uses when he’s here and he can’t help but grin at the sight, especially the snores that come with a head cold.

The bed lightly dipping is what rouses you, and you turn to see Dave sitting at the end of the bed. Clutching what you assume is soup, “Hi baby,” you croak, as he gently rubs your leg.

“How are you feeling?” He asks gently, scooting forward to reach up and touch his hand to the back of your forehead. A little warm, but nothing too concerning.

“Better than I was earlier,” you say, before reaching up and pulling his hand down to your cheek and holding it there. “I stole your t-shirt.”

“I see that.” He hums, smirking slightly. “Comfy?”

“Yes,” you say, “It’s mine now. I’m sorry I’m not well enough to take care of you.”

“Baby, don’t worry about that.” He frowns slightly and shakes his head. “I’m going to take care of you.” He pulls his hand away and opens the soup. “Your favorite.”

“You’re so sweet,” you say, before taking the soup. And sitting upright. “How’s your day?”

“It was okay.” He twists off the cap for the Gatorade to hold until you are ready to drink. “Boring, but then I got a text that my girl wasn’t feeling good, so I came over here.”

Your heart leaps at the way he calls you his girl, and you can’t hide it on your face. “I’d ask you to snuggle, but I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Eat your soup and I’ll snuggle you.” He’s not afraid of being sick. He’s got a pretty solid immune system, and he’s not going to deny you comfort when you’re not feeling good. He pats your leg and stands up, setting the Gatorade down so he can strip down to his boxers.

“Dinner and a show?” You say with a giggle, before having a spoonful of soup.

“Shut up.” He grunts at you, rolling his eyes even though he’s grinning. “Unless you want me in bed wearing my suit?”

“Take it off, baby,” you say with a wink.

He rolls his eyes at you again but he’s steadily removing his clothes and tossing his pants and jacket onto the chair in the corner. “You act like you’re feeling better.”

“Clearly you’ve got the magic touch, baby,” you say before another spoonful of soup. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course, baby.” He frowns slightly as he looks back at you. The lines have been blurred and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do since he still has a wife and daughters at home, but you are important to him.

“No one has ever bought me soup when I've been sick before,” you admit, “Usually I’d just do it myself. This is really nice.”

“You deserve to have soup brought to you,” he hums, peeling off his socks and then striding back over to the bed. “You have some medicine right? I picked up some NyQuil, but I wasn't sure what you had.”

“NyQuil is perfect, I didn’t stop at the pharmacy,” you admit. “Just wanted to get into my new favorite t-shirt and sleep.”

“I’ll go get it.” He bends down and kisses your forehead. “Be right back.”

“Thanks baby.” You finish up the soup and open the gatorade, grateful for something they replenish a little energy.

He grabs the medicine and brings it back to you. Happy to see you drinking something, he opens the bottle and pours you out a dose. “It’s the nighttime stuff so you can get some rest.”

“Sounds good,” you say before taking the medicine. “Snuggle me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course baby.” He rounds the bed and climbs in on the other side, moving towards the middle and opening his arms for you to lay in them. “Unless you want to spoon?”

“You wanna be the little spoon again?” You say with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up, brat.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “You wanna snuggle or not?”

“Yes please, baby.”

He wouldn’t deny you at all, of course. But he smirks when you curl into his chest. His arm wraps around your back and he rubs it gently. “Go to sleep, baby.”

His arms wrap tightly around you, and it doesn’t take long until you’re drifting off. The medication clouding your senses and you murmur into your soft pillow not fully aware of what’s being said, “Love you.”

Dave stays still as a board as you completely fall asleep. Feeling your body relax and your breathing softens. “I love you too, baby.” He breathes out eventually. He does love you. He didn’t mean to fall in love with you. You had been a surprise, a wrench in the well laid plans that he had to manage his needs. But he won’t deny it, not when he knows it’s real.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york imagine #dave york fanfiction

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