#I have sO many thinGs to reblog off my likEs please bare with me and we will go thorugh these difficult times together

[lollixp0p]

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[plaguedoctorate]

good GOD I am so angry.

I, as my bio suggests, am a minor. I am also asexual. And feeling quite dysphoric about all the adults in my life telling me ‘I wouldn’t know until I’ve tried it.’ But that’s a different topic.

I needed a little boost for myself so I looked at the asexual tag here on tumblr, so I’d feel less alone.

There are always thirst traps and other things of that kind on any popular tag. But I saw so many, on the asexual tag, that I actually cried, ripping my skin off as I did so.

There will always be people that abuse the tag system, I know. Tagging your posts with trending tags to make them more likely to show up on people’s dashes is a corporate tactic. But to see so many of these ads, I can barely call them posts, on the asexual tag, made me physically ill.

Asexuality is often overlooked by not just cishets but the LGBTQ+ community so often. To see that a safe space for positivity for such a overlooked community was being vandalised for the sake of marketing makes me so angry and so upset for myself and all the other people who fit under the umbrella of asexuality or aromantic who just want to feel like they belong.

I’m a relatively new blog, but I know how tumblr works. I know how the world works. The way the world is run means that we are all victims, and I thought that maybe society, that damned, twisted thing, could let us have a little corner to protect ourselves.

All it does is hurt. it hurts, and it hurts, and it hurts. Companies aren’t going to get new customers by ripping apart supposed safe spaces, and young asexual kids like myself aren’t going to get any validation or even feeling of home from seeing thirst traps targeted toward our community.

our community that is SPECIFICALLY DEFINED BY FEELING DIFFERENT OR NO SEXUAL ATTRACTION TO WHAT IS DEEMED ‘NORMAL’.

it’s targeted. I can tell. And I am by no means an expert, but this tag abuse is hurting everyone. And no one is doing a thing about it.

please boost this. Reblog, like, whatever. This is damaging people far more than you think, and it needs to be resolved.

thanks for hearing me

[juletheghoul]

Grown

AN: I am sort of going through a writing bender? A manic episode? I don't know, I just know that if I don't get it down I will lose my mind. I have been wanting to write an age-gap fic for Joel (aside from LMF) for a while but I couldn't really find the format or the idea that I could sink my teeth into. There are SO MANY good ones out there, I even had a whole other thing started but it got too intense, and making it sexual wouldn't have been true to that version of Joel, so here is what I came up with. (I kept Tess out of this story) Big thank you to @foli-vora for letting me exorcise this demon, and to @frannyzooey for putting up with my endless messages and voice notes through discord, love y'all! (this is unbeta'd and barely proofread, any and all mistakes are mine)

Joel Miller x F!reader (sex worker) (Joel calls you ‘Pretty’)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), fingering, cream pie, one lonely little lick of his cock👅, come play sort of? dirty talk, age gap (legal), feelings of guilt, talk of sex work, some of it traumatic (no details, no violence)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist 

He was a risk, calculated but definitely worth it up close. He fidgeted, flexing and unflexing his hands as you moved around the tiny studio apartment. Your home, and ‘office’. You’d searched long and hard, and paid a hefty price for the soft lamps, the newish linens for your bed, the homey touches.

He shifted his weight as you put the quilt down, separating the outside world from the privacy of your sheets. Easier to clean up after too. 

“Boots off, please.” You gesture to the place by the door, and he nodded with a frown. 

“Sorry.” He groaned as he brought his foot up and for a moment you saw his age, through the pleasant features. 

“No problem, how do you want me?” You stand at the foot of the bed, naked under the well-worn, but cherished robe and for a moment he gawps. You don’t laugh, men don’t like it when you laugh. “On my back?” 

“Wait- how old are you again?” He pads over, tall and broad, obscuring the light source when he walks past it. 

“Old enough.” You smile, “come, why don’t you sit here with me?” You hold out your hand to him, and after a tense glance, he takes it and sits where you gesture. His grip is firm, but soft, years of hard work rooted in the calluses that meet your significantly softer palm. It isn’t a turn off though, he’s a man, men work hard. The real ones do, or did anyway.

“How long do I have? S’there anyone else…?” He trails off, his voice cutting off and you smile, placating. 

“You have as long as you need, tonight's all yours.” You sit beside him, and put your hand tentatively on his arm, channeling every single ounce of calm you have and pouring it into him. He’s warm and alive beside you, heat radiating off him under the soft pass of your thumb against the skin peeking out under the denim sleeve, you let the soft light, the light patter of rain outside your window work on him. He surveys the area, learning the layout of your space and you don’t interfere, you follow his gaze and try to see it all from his point of view. 

It's small, but comfortable. It’s exceedingly clean, you’d spent hours and hours making sure, back breaking hours on your hands and knees scrubbing and washing and it had paid off, no matter how sore you’d been after. There’s a little table, with two chairs, a big lumpy chair near the window, where you spent most of your time not working curled up with one of your precious books. He noticed the tiny chest of drawers, the top of it clear except for a half-full glass of water. He saw the baseball bat leaning against the wall tucked just behind it. 

“Can I get a little closer?” You scoot a little, pressing your thigh to his, turning to hold his restless arm between your breasts, your fingers intertwining with his while he got accustomed to your own warmth. Those big, callused, hard-working hands wrapped up in yours. Invitingly warm.

Some people needed a little push, sometimes they were nervous on how to start and they needed someone to get them out of their heads. Some wanted to talk, to sprawl out naked with you and get all of their thoughts out. 

Loneliness is the main malady you alleviate. 

Some didn’t want to talk at all, some just wanted you to open your legs and take, and that was okay too. Everyone had their thing. 

“This okay?” You put your linked palms on the little bit of skin poking out through the gap in your robe, your skin surrounding both sides of his hand. 

“Yeah, s’okay.” He watches the robe slip open, and his other hand joins the fray, pulling it apart to see more of your thigh. He licks his lip as more of you is revealed and you artfully let the shoulder slip, drawing his eye up to your cleavage. He pats his leg, and you get a genuine thrill, sliding over and up onto his lap. He needed no further guidance after that, now that he had permission, his body was taking over. 

His eyes were dark, focused, tracking the line of your throat when you swallowed thickly. He watched the way your breath hitched when he slid his hand up your inner thigh and found you bare underneath, his fingers slipping through the silky hair at your mound, his fingers parting your lips softly to find your slick folds. He lets out a shuddering breath at the same time you do, when his finger slips over your clit. 

“I’m too old for you, pretty.” He watches his hand between your legs, using it to spread your thighs enough to see your pussy dripping for him. 

“You don’t feel too old.” You hold onto his neck, giving him more access and your stomach drops to feel him hardening under the swell of your ass. You pull his hand from between your legs, and dip his fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around them before pressing them back against your achy clit. He pulls a genuine moan of pleasure at the extra slip when he swirls around your clit nice and slow. Tortuous, and talented.

“So fuckin’ soft,” He glides his fingers down, circling your entrance but his eyes are focused on your mouth now, “bet you’re tight as a fist, aren’t you baby?” He slides two thick fingers inside and you clutch at him, more turned on by him than you’ve ever been doing this line of work.

It’s a stretch, but he works them in, pressing against your upper wall, looking for something and when he finds it you whimper in his arms. 

“Do you kiss?” You barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears, his fingers curling inside you, and he puts more pressure on the button he’s found and you moan, lost and mindlessly enjoying the fullness. 

He presses devastatingly soft, tender kisses to your throat, completely at odds with the wet sounds of his exploration between your legs. 

“Baby, can we kiss?” He repeats it, this time with his fingers still, but stuffed deep. You press your mouth to his, humid and hot and he tastes like the good alcohol you have stashed in your cupboard. He groans and his fingers scissor inside you, squelching between your legs with every lazy pump. He traps your bottom lip between his, alternating a teasing bite to the plump of it, with deep licks into your mouth. You’ve never been kissed like this. 

“You just gonna use your fingers?” He pulls away to skim his nose down your neck, bunching the top of the robe in the splayed hand at your back to pull it down from where it hangs on your shoulder. His mouth engulfs your nipple when it falls and any thoughts that he may be too old for you seem to slip his mind because he doubles down, moaning obscenely into your skin as you leak onto his lap. 

“No, just wanna open you up, I wanna make sure this little pussy can take me.” Arousal and excitement pools in your belly. 

“What a gentleman.” You laugh, half crazed with lust for this man who just might be old enough to be your father. He smiles, drunk on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his spit still shining on your breast. He has a dimple, so boyish in contrast to the grey in his beard and in his hair you can’t help but love it, it suits him.

“Spread your legs a little more for me darlin’,” one hand is heavy on your hip, holding you so you can drop one leg and open up a little more, “I wanna see you come,” he speeds up, his thumb now doing tight little circles against your clit and you moan, unabashedly, “look how wet she is,” he stares between your legs “I just wanna see her come.” He hooks his fingers again and the pressure is almost too much. It only takes a few moments, his fingers pet, pet, pet and then you clench, the pleasure going off in your belly like a bomb, radiating out through your breasts, into your hips, all the way down to your fingers and toes. 

A universe contained within your body, borne of his hand.

“Fuck.” Your legs close over his hand, and he slows down but doesn’t stop, a softer, slower stroke while you catch your breath. “Let's get you outta these clothes.” you start undoing the buttons to his shirt, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles littered along his skin. He pulls his fingers out from between your legs, shiny and dripping in you and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the tang of you. 

Undressing him is like opening a gift. His arms are strong, his biceps flexing when he all but lifts you up to stand, pulling your robe off and away from you like it’s on fire. His midsection is soft, but you can feel the strength underneath when you undo his jeans, tensing in excitement the closer you get to the considerable bulge in them. You curl your fingers around both his jeans, and his boxers, impatient to get him naked. You crouch as you pull them down, mouth watering at the size of him, hard and bobbing in front of you. The muscles in his thighs are firm, his skin so warm and you can’t help but lick a stripe up the underside of his cock on the way back up. 

He lets out a sound like he's been punched in the gut and you take it in like sustenance. 

“Don’t–I’ll come too fast if you put it in your mouth.”

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, just as he reaches down to grab and spread the cheeks of your ass, stomach full of butterflies at the feeling of him hard and leaking against your belly. 

“But I wanna swallow it, I wanna feel it in my throat.” You pout and he lets out a shuddering breath, “Don’t you wanna fuck my mouth?” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat, your fingers slipping through the unruly, grey strands at the back of his neck. 

“Not now baby, I’m barely goin' to last as it is.” He turns you, pressing you to lay in the middle of your quilt and he’s quick to follow, fitting himself between your legs, leaning on one arm beside your skull and when he grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, you almost can’t watch him. It’s too erotic, it looks so big in his hand, too big to fit but you know it will, he’ll make it fit. 

“Jesus Christ,” He whispers as he feeds himself inside you slowly, an inch, before pulling it out, then a little more, until he’s fucking you a little deeper each time. 

There wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs, he took up every fucking drop. You’d been with other men, you’d been with women, all of them taking their pleasure from your body and most of them giving pleasure in return, this was something else. This was almost scary, the way the vision of him above you made your brain buzz and your nipples hard, made your cunt leak all over him. 

He moves up onto his knees, those big hands pull your legs up and apart, pressing the backs of your thighs into your chest, practically folding you in half to slide his cock deeper still.

He snapped his hips hard, pulling a sound you’d never made out of your mouth, again, and again, until it was a continuous babble. He watches the way his cock disappears inside the tight clutch of your cunt with every dirty roll of his hips. He sinks a little further down, and adjusts his stroke, until just the tip of it stays inside of every heavy push forward. 

This isn’t some desperate, lonely old guy looking to get his dick wet, this is a grown man, fucking you like a grown man does and you feel like a grown woman taking it. 

“Joel, baby that’s so fucking good-“ you press your hands to his chest where he leans against you. He’s focused, eyes glazed over, sweat dripping down his nose in his efforts. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, his pace stuttering slightly and you know he’s not gonna last.

“I wanna see her come with me inside,” he whines, and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing so you reach down and swirl your fingers around your clit while he watches, “that’s it baby, that’s it, fuck, I’m close-“ he somehow spreads you wider, the wet suck of your pussy is louder, more obscene, more erotic. 

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ the orgasm strangles the words in your throat, pulsing him out but he pushes back in and you feel it all the way in your toes. 

“Fuuuuuckkk—“ he pulls out and pumps himself furiously against your mound, covering the soft patch of hair in spurt after milky spurt. It’s a lot, some has splashed onto your hip, your belly, you feel it slipping down to where you clench, empty and gaping without him filling you. 

It’s quiet for a moment after, while your blood cools, and he milks himself dry, pumping a few more times despite the over-sensitivity. 

“You got anything for me to clean you up with?” He rubs at the indents he left on the back of your thighs before unfolding you. 

“There’s a little pile of rags in that first drawer behind you.” You point to the tiny chest of drawers, and he groans when he moves up and off of you. Now that he’s emptied his balls, the signs of his age rear their heads. He groans, wincing as he bends forward to carefully wipe everything away with gentle hands. 

It’s nice to see him walk around naked, welcome, you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often, if he came back that was. 

“That was-“ he scratches at the back of his neck, passing the cloth over your belly, “that was really good.”

“I’ll say, it was better than good.” You stretch out and luxuriate like a cat in warm patch of sun, seriously debating offering him time to recover so he could fuck you again. He quirks his lip, the ghost of a smile, the confidence dulled to shy, awkward fumbling. He tosses the rag into the little basket you point to, and he begins the process of getting dressed. You get up when he’s almost done, your thighs, and what’s between already sore and pick up your robe. He’s putting his neat little stack of ration cards on the table when you finish tying it up. 

“Thanks.” He pulls his boots on, opening your door before turning back to find you right on his heels. 

“Anytime.” You smile at him, hoping it won’t be a one-time thing. He moves to step outside but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking something for your own. He kisses you back when you press your mouth to his, it's softer, his tongue sweet when it tangles with yours and you smile into the kiss when he reaches down, and grabs your ass. 

“Bye, Pretty.”

“Bye Joel.”

-

You hadn't fallen into the work, so much as slowly slid into it. The first time had been almost a dare, a challenge to yourself, a proposition made by someone and maybe your own foolish, naive need to prove that you weren’t some stupid baby. A man, an older man that had shared cleaning duty with you had come right out with it, saw you bending over to pick something off the floor and told you that he’d pay every ration card he had for a taste of that ass, as he so eloquently put it. 

At first you’d been shocked, he seemed like a perfectly bland, run of the mill survivor making his way in the QZ, but he’d been serious. You’d asked him to clarify, to repeat his words, and he had. He’d shaken his hands of the dirt and dust of the job, produced a tiny stack of much needed ration cards from a hidden pocket and held them out for you like a cold glass of water in the desert. Something inside you had recoiled, he wasn’t repulsive, but he wasn’t exactly the object of your late night fantasies. Another part though, a hidden little sliver of something jumped at the chance to have some power, some semblance of control and so without much thought to consequence, you’d taken him up on it. 

An uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, he was grunting behind you, stroking himself furiously to paint the cheeks of your ass in his come. 

Once it was done, the little part of you that had welcomed the challenge was curiously absent, and the part that had recoiled was bigger, swelling like some awful, infected limb. But you had rations enough to stop working for a few days, and that took some of the repulsion away. 

It was a while before you did it again. It was a while before you saw the man again, maybe part of you, that ever-present bit of self-preservation urged you to avoid him but he eventually found you again. This time you turned him down, and he hadn’t pressed, but he’d told others. Other men who seemed to sniff you out, some of them older, and less diplomatic and those you told to fuck off. Some of the younger ones though, closer to your age looking for the experience, some of them you took in, with the strict promise to never tell anyone unless they wanted to never see you again. Those experiences were better, less traumatic. 

After that it seemed like things came together, you had a steady string of people who took you seriously and paid up front. 

The first woman had been a girl of around your age, she’d heard from a friend of a friend, carefully and strategically keeping the source to herself. You’d never really given it much thought but once you did it seemed only natural, women got lonely too, and there was nothing about her that you didn’t understand. So you accepted her, took her rations and gave her as much of yourself as you gave the men. 

It’d taken time to establish yourself, to find the regular people you let into the circle, it was all much easier now. With the exception of Joel, you hadn’t taken on someone new in a while, but he made you glad you did.

-

His hands always shake before it starts. 

It’s a light tremble, a couple of fingers in his left hand and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s an injury, or a sign of nerves. He’s hard of hearing in one ear too, his right. You hadn't picked up on it at first but once you do, it makes sense. He tilts his head to the right a tiny bit, turning his good ear towards your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. 

He was older than the rest, that did bother him, but never enough to stop visiting. He dragged it out sometimes, made himself wait, avoided you, but whether it took him a week or a month, he came back. 

“Hi Joel.” You smiled to see him standing at the threshold, fingers twitching by his side, his hair a mess, a small bundle in his grip.

“Hi.” He doesn’t smile back, he’d waited too long, the frown practically tattooed on. He puts the bundle down on the dresser after kicking off his boots, and doesn’t mention it. 

It’s dark outside, later than you usually let anyone come see you but for him you make exceptions. His hands keep rubbing at his thighs, his eyes darting around, you let him settle for a moment, get his bearings before jumping into anything, it’s a dance and you both have your steps. 

“How do you want me?” You finally break the silence once he sits on the quilt. He looks up at you, but doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fall to your cleavage, then down to your waist where the robe is cinched, then further still to your hips. You move closer, until you stand between his spread thighs. 

“Hm? Wanna fuck me on my back? Or should I get on my hands and knees?” You thread your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as best you can, he shudders at your words and at the feeling of your hands on him, putting up his usual show of shame at being here with you, at being older. “Should I get on my knees right here and suck your cock?” His hands land on your hips, his face pressing against your sternum, robe parting enough for him to press his lips to the valley between your breasts.

“You’re too fuckin’ soft, way too fuckin’ pretty to be lettin’ me touch you.” He always does this, has to make it known that you shouldn’t let him do this, that he shouldn’t want you like this. It never stops him, he opens the robe and pushes it off to fall on the floor regardless of his words and moans into the skin of your breast where he nuzzles like a cat.

“Prettiest thing I ever saw.” His mouth laves at one pert nipple, then the other, leaving them hard and shiny when he trails his kisses down to your belly. 

All day you’ve thought about him here, getting to have him to yourself, opening you up and molding you to fit him like a glove, making you see stars like he always does. And all day you’ve felt that slow simmer of arousal, that steady ache to bloom and gape for him, both soft and obscene. The constant excitement of anticipation. His mouth on your nipples only served to turn it up to an inferno, turning you to liquid for him. 

“But I like when you touch me.” You scratch at his scalp, pressing his face into your skin, “I like it when you fuck me, you make it so good, much better than anyone else.” You flatter him, but you don’t lie to him. You’ve learned to be impartial to your experiences, sex is work. As fun as it can be with some of them, it’s all a means to an end, you need to eat and so you do what you have to do. You are also realistic about him, he is not your boyfriend, he’s not your partner, he barely gives you a second glance on the street but in here, he’s your favourite. He fits you better than anyone and anything, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need him as much as he needs you.

He takes in the words, believes them and relishes them. 

“How do you want me, Joel?” You pull his face up, bending down to kiss him before he can answer and his desperation comes through. His tongue is insistent, his kiss almost violent. 

“I want you here-“ he pats the bed, before getting up to take his clothes off. You help him, both of you working efficiently until he’s as naked as you are. His cock is already hard, the tip of him pearly with his own want despite any and all notions of impropriety. 

His body always betrays him. 

He gets you on your back, but he doesn’t lay on top of you, rather beside you. He doesn’t let you turn to face him, he wants it like this, his body curling around yours to be able to see it spread out for him without himself in the way. 

“Open up for me, s’good, just like that.” He takes the thigh closest to him and drapes it over his hip, positioning himself to enter you from underneath. He lifts his head, showcasing his core strength to watch as he brings his cock to the open mouth of your cunt, sliding in without so much as a warning. You feel exposed, spread open and bare under his eye and it only heightens the experience, cracking something open inside of you. 

His hips push and pull slowly, lazily at first despite how fucking hard he is but doesn’t last. The sight in front of you there, breasts bouncing with every snap, is too much for him. With one hand free, he strums and plucks at your nipples, opening up the dam between your thighs to ruin the quilt underneath. 

His other hand isn’t idle though, it slips down, grabbing onto the plush of your ass, holding you in place hard enough to bruise. 

“That feel good?” He watches you leak all over him, and knows it does but he wants to hear it anyway. 

“Yes- Yes Joel–” You moan, turning to watch his face. 

“This little cunt goin' to come for me? I wanna see her come, I wanna feel her choke my dick.” He surges forward, swallowing the moan from the source before speeding up. His cock strokes, strokes, strokes and you feel the warmth blooming in your core, spreading like a wildfire through your hips, the release so close you can almost taste it, you whine and he shushes you, his voice soft despite how depraved you feel with his cock kissing something sacred inside of you. 

You roll your hips to meet his thrusts and sweat builds in your hairline and at the back of your neck, collects and slips where your skin and his meet.

“I know baby, I know, I can feel her, she wants to come doesn’t she?” His lips press against your cheek, his words warm against your skin. His lips are so soft, so plush as he pants into your face, goosebumps cover your body. You nod against him, mouth open in a silent scream when he adjusts his angle slightly. 

He’s no longer able to form complete sentences, his words are reduced to a repeated chant of yeah baby, yeah baby, right there, right there huh? Barely formed questions for the answer you know he already knows and then his fingers are in your mouth, stretching out your lips, holding your mouth open in a filthy, yet pale imitation of what his cock is doing.

You drool, and you don’t care but it’s what he wants, he takes it from your mouth and slides it over your clit and it’s like he’s pressed the nuclear codes in your body. 

You want to curl into yourself, but you can’t, his grip tightens, painfully, holding you to take and take and take his cock until he bursts inside you like a ripe berry. His groan is almost more obscene than the act, his groin pressed up against you tight, pressing himself deeper than ever to paint your cervix in his come. 

“Fuck–” He presses the word to your cheek, sliding his sweat soaked face down your neck, to your shoulder. He pulls out after a moment, and you feel him leak out of you. He moves to hover over you, pulling one nipple into his mouth to taste before the blood has cooled, and then the other. He isn;t done yet though, he kneels between your spread legs, inspecting the mess he’s made of your pussy, a self satisfied look on his face. 

“Gonna dream about this, while I’m gone.” He lifts your legs, pressing them up and open and slips two fingers deep inside to push his come back in and as you moan at the act, you cannot help but wonder where that worried, too-old Joel is right now. 

“Prettiest little cunt.” He says it to himself, rubbing his mess into the sensitive walls of your sex like a balm. 

He licks his fingers after, tasting the combined flavours of both of you. Your heart almost can’t take it. 

Once he’s dressed, and you have gained enough strength to get up and put your robe on he’s almost back to his shy self. 

“I have the rations here, but I brought somethin’ else.” He gestures to the little bundle he’d left on your dresser, “I found it, thought you might like it.” He opens it, and it’s a can of peaches. 

“Oh!” You’re genuinely taken aback. 

“You ain’t allergic right?” He frowns, and you smile, something soft spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the sex you just had.

“No, I’m not allergic. Thank you Joel, I am really excited for this.” You ignore the soreness between your legs and close the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 

“Well alright then.” He frowns again, and it’s not shyness you see on his face now, it’s awkwardness, it’s a man who doesn’t know how to be soft, but is trying his hardest. 

“Bye Pretty.” He lingers at the door, devouring you with his eyes and even though he was still dripping out of you, you felt naked and exposed, open and spread out for his gaze. 

“Bye Joel, don’t wait too long to come see me again okay?” You press yourself against him, the soft lines of you tucked tight against the hard angles of him. He gifts you with a rare smile but doesn’t respond, save for a toe curling kiss at your threshold before he’s gone. 

Hours later, when your body is truly sore and spent, you lay in bed with a book, eating the peaches he brought, and wonder idly what he’ll bring next time. 

-

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[junkissed]

amateur hour

member — camboy!jun x f reader genre — smut, f2l, idiots to lovers, fluffy ending word count — 8.6k synopsis — the most awkward encounter of your life might just end up being the best thing you and your best friend have ever done together. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, masturbation (jun), voyeurism & exhibitionism (watching porn together), jun is a big time simp but in a soft way, please lmk if i missed any! notes — huge thanks to @onlymingyus and @highvern for reading this for me to make sure i wasn't insane, and thanks to @cheolism and @duhnova for help with the title <3 this is my longest fic in a while and it took so much energy to finish but i hope yall enjoy! please reblog or send an ask and lmk if you enjoyed this! :)

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"hello? anybody home?"

jun squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back with a stifled moan as he cums all over his hand. his grip on his cock tightens, milking every last drop out across his abs as he fights to keep himself quiet.

fuck, he forgot. forgot he'd told you to come over tonight. forgot he'd promised a movie night to cheer you up after your latest dating disaster. he feels like the worst friend on the planet right now, for so many reasons.

the main reason? the fact that he's just finished cumming at the thought of you… and also the fact that he's been streaming the whole thing to thousands of people.

out of breath, he presses a couple keys before slamming his laptop shut. no goodbye to his viewers, no thanking the people who donated. but they're used to his unconventional streams, often barely acknowledging their existence or even not talking at all. not because he cares deeply about staying anonymous, but because he's just so… average.

maybe that's why he's so popular: he's just a regular guy jerking off. people like that amateur stuff. no elaborate productions, no fancy camera work, just a guy with a laptop and a really pretty cock (or so he's been told). he could be anyone: your classmate, your neighbor, the cute guy from the library. he might even be your best friend.

"in here— changing!" he calls through his closed door, rushing as fast as he can to clean himself up and put clothes on. he's mentally praising himself for remembering to make his bed this morning, and after wiping a suspicious looking stain off his desk and fixing his chair, his room looks halfway decent.

he tosses open his bedroom door to greet you, throwing a smile onto his face. he doesn't want you to feel like you're intruding—he loves it when you come over, he wouldn't have given you his house key if he didn't want you to—even though at this exact moment, you very much are intruding. even though he invited you over in the first place. fuck, he's such an idiot.

when jun hadn't answered any of your texts before you let yourself in his apartment, you'd figured he'd forgotten about tonight. you'd hoped tonight would be an exception, but it's not out of the ordinary for him to be forgetful. any other day you wouldn't have minded, even teased him about it, but not tonight. especially since he invited you over in the first place.

but all of your worries are suddenly pushed to the backseat when he comes out of his room looking… well, hot.

like, literally hot. he's sweating, his hair disheveled and his pupils huge as he pushes his shirt sleeves up his arms.

it takes a second for you to take it all in— obviously he'd forgotten about his promise and had started a workout instead. you can't say you haven't noticed lately how often he's started working out, his biceps bulking up and his chest peeking out through his shirts. you'd wondered when he's been finding the time to go to the gym, his excuse for years being that he's too busy or too lazy to leave the house, but it seems like he's been working out at home too now.

you stand awkwardly in the space between his living room and the door, watching the beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “if now's a bad time, i can— leave…”

"no!" he rushes to say, and you pause at his sudden outburst. "no. just... let me take a shower real quick. i'm so sorry, i lost track of time." he runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down while you try not to stare.

"sure," you say after a long moment. his eyes pause to travel over your face with an expression you can't read, but maybe you just imagined that because seconds later he's back to his cheery, usual self telling you to make yourself cozy on his bed and start looking for a movie while he's in the shower.

standing under the cold water, he promises to himself that he's going to get everything right tonight, despite the rocky start. he's gonna bring out the snacks and put on the movie and make you happy again. because that's what he always does, and he may not be the most perfect person in the world but he tries to be for you.

he's been there for every new boyfriend you tell him about that he already knows won't end well, and he's been there when it inevitably doesn't end well. he's been there without a single complaint for every drunk saturday night and every hungover sunday morning. and he's not going to complain this time either, no matter his feelings for you and how badly he wishes you would just date him instead. maybe he's a little biased, but he thinks he'd make a great boyfriend.

you sit at the edge of his bed wringing your hands until you hear the shower start to run, finally letting out a deep exhale and starting to relax with a moment to yourself. 

he’ll take his shower, and it’ll be like a reset button for the evening; he’ll come out nice and clean like nothing ever happened, and you’ll snuggle up and watch a funny movie and maybe get a little drunk and forget all your troubles for the weekend. a clean slate, as if you hadn’t had to use every ounce of self control you’ve got in order to avoid ogling him and the way his sweat drenched shirt clung to his torso. 

you’ll have such a fantastic time with the movie, you won’t even have time to stop and think about the fact that he probably works out shirtless. no, you definitely aren’t thinking about how you’ve never seen any gym equipment around his house so he must be doing like a crazy amount of pushups or something to get that ripped without any kind of exercise machine. the fact that these are not the kind of thoughts you should be thinking about your best friend is entirely irrelevant.

content with your plan to avoid thinking for the rest of the evening, you stand up from his bed and move to stand at his desk, opening his laptop to find something to watch.

and oh, you find something to watch, alright.

staring back at you on his screen is a porn site, paused on a video of a man laid naked across a worn out looking chair, legs spread wide with his cock tightly in his fist.

oddly enough, your first thought is that the scene looks… hot. the top of the video cuts off at the neck, hiding his face from the camera but leaving his prominent adam's apple exposed. it’s very obviously amateur, but even from just the single frame shown, you get the sense that there’s a certain charm to it. and quite honestly, it’s working for you.

apparently, it works for a lot of other people, too. the video has hundreds of thousands of views, and below it are suggested videos from the same man that boast similar numbers.

jun never struck you as the type of guy to watch solo male videos, but you aren't here to judge his preferences. hell, you've seen way worse yourself. there must be something he likes about it, though, and you’re half tempted to press play on the video to find out if the rest of it is as good as the preview seems to be.

you're about to close the tab and never speak of it again, but something else catches your eye and you pause, finger hovering over the mousepad. something about the guy in the video feels… familiar, somehow.

looking closer you see there's a little mole on his tummy, right by his hip, that reminds you of the one jun has. you've seen him without his shirt on enough times to recognize it—not like you've been staring or anything. just something you've noticed. 

but then your stomach flips, and you realize what's actually familiar about the guy in the video. tied around his wrist is a thin red string, a friendship bracelet you made when you first met him and accidentally tied it too tight so he couldn't take it off that he's worn ever since.

there's no way that's a coincidence.

and then everything else starts to fall into place: the posters in the background of the video. the old desk chair you’ve sat in so many times that you’ll never be able to see the same way again. too many pieces fitting easily together like a puzzle.

but by the time you've had long enough to process all this information, the shower has stopped and out walks jun wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. your eyes drag away from the sight of his wet, naked chest and instantly fix on the bracelet tied around his wrist, unable to stop staring at it.

you distantly hear him call your name, and your gaze snaps back up at him with wide, guilty eyes, caught like a deer in headlights.

he opens a drawer and starts tugging a t-shirt on over his head, turning around to look at you. “did you find something to watc— oh.”

you follow his gaze towards his open laptop, the video sitting proudly on display in the tab you forgot to close.

you both stare at the paused video for a very long moment, the silence stretching on before all the words that were stuck in your throat suddenly come tumbling out all at once.

“i wasn’t— it was just open… i didn’t—”

he stands there in silence, and you stand there in silence, and the evidence sits on the desk between you like a wall that makes you feel intensely exposed, even though he’s the one who’s sitting naked on the open screen.

your first instinct (after panic, of course) is to slink home and hide yourself in your room and try to erase the image of your best friend’s dick from your memory. you’ve never thought they looked very attractive before, but his is weirdly beautiful to look at, and you’re not willing to explore that train of thought. also, way bigger than you were expecting, but it’s not like you thought about it often enough to guess how big he is or anything. 

“maybe i should go home and we should just forget about tonight,” you rush to add when he still doesn’t say anything after a lengthy pause. 

jun’s face falls, and you immediately feel a pang of guilt for trying to run. “you don't have to go,” he says quickly. “it’s not— um, nothing weird about it, right? i’m sorry, i should have closed it, or…” he pauses, stumbling over his words almost as badly as you are. “i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. i promise my sheets—and everything in my room—is clean.” he tries an awkward smile, and it makes you feel really bad about making him feel bad.

“it's not weird at all. it's totally normal. i was just… surprised,” you try to smile back, but it doesn't work as well on you as it does on him. “just a shock, i guess. trying to process it. but it's fine. i promise.”

“i won't make it weird,” he says. “you don't have to watch it or anything.” he kind of wants you to.

“i wasn't thinking about it.” you definitely were.

there's another uncomfortably long silence. “so anyway, did you pick out a movie?” he asks at the same time you ask him a question, both trying to keep the conversation going, but you realize you should've kept your mouth shut and let him take the lead because he is way more capable of being normal about this than you are.

“what do you think about when you do it?” you blurt out, and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because you've realized just how invasive of a question that is and you're kind of hoping he didn't hear you, but he definitely did because he's sitting at the edge of his bed with a shocked look on his face, because out of all the things he was expecting you to say it definitely wasn't that.

“don't answer that. i don't know why i said that,” you follow up immediately, trying to mitigate the damage but it's too late.

his eyebrows are scrunched up in thought. “no, i don't care. i—um… i just don't know how to answer that without making it weird.”

“you don't have to,” you say quickly.

he turns to you, but you pointedly look away. “do you actually want to know?” 

you look down at your hands, doing everything to avoid his eyes. “kinda.” yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

he laughs a little, and miraculously somehow it manages to lighten the tension, hearing that familiar sound. “you seem, like, really uncomfortable. we can just… pretend it never happened.”

“it's gonna be hard to do that. it's not every day you find out your best friend is a porn star,” you say finally. you force yourself to lift your head, at least in his general direction since you can't meet his eyes. you settle on looking at his mouth instead, but that was definitely a mistake because now you're staring at his lips and noticing for the first time how pretty they are and how soft they look and now you're wondering what it would feel like to kiss those lips and to—

“it's not really like being a porn star… well, kind of, it is. but like, not really, because—” he cuts himself off when he notices you staring. “sorry, i'll drop it. we don’t have to get into it.”

“no, i'm curious now,” you say. somehow you find the will to lift your head, finally meeting his eyes. “tell me how you do it.”

he stares blankly. “like how i jerk off, or… oh, you meant how the videos work,” he laughs as it clicks into place in his mind. obviously you wouldn't mean it like that—as much as he wishes you did.

you didn’t realize it until now but the uncomfortable, awkward tension at the initial shock of finding out that your best friend has a mildly successful porn career, has slowly been melting away into a different kind of tension. maybe it’s the adrenaline, the fight or flight instinct, or something else entirely, but it’s succeeded in making you bolder than you should be. everything in you should be telling you no, drop it, don’t invade his privacy, but all you can think is yes, please, tell me everything.

“is that what you were doing earlier? when i got here?”

he tilts his head imperceptibly at your question, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he tries to gauge your reactions. there’s something in the air and it’s beginning to affect him too. “i feel like you’ve already guessed the answer to that.”

you can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips at his words, gaining confidence with each passing second. “i told you, i’m curious.”

“fine.” he cocks an eyebrow at you. “yeah, i was. what else do you wanna know?”

“you never answered my question earlier.”

“what do i think about?” he repeats, tactfully ignoring the blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks. “trade secret. i can’t tell you.”

clearly you aren’t satisfied with his answer, so he sighs and looks over at you. strands of wet hair from his shower rest across his forehead, and you can’t help but be reminded of how he looked when you’d first walked in, sweaty bangs sticking to his face in a similar fashion. 

“it’s not any different than when i do it off camera. same thoughts.” his eyes trail down your body briefly before snapping back up to your face. “most of the time i don’t even remember i’m being filmed. just feels like a normal afternoon to me.”

when he meets your eyes again they almost seem to sparkle with a mischievousness he hasn’t seen from you in a long, long time. “so this is a normal afternoon for you, then? letting people watch you jerk off?” the words are more vulgar than he’s ever heard from you, but they taste good and satisfying on your tongue.

if even a quarter of jun’s brain was functioning normally right now, he might have the good sense to refuse to answer your questions. his side job was never supposed to be found out by friends or family, not because he’s embarrassed about what he does, but because he likes having that space to experiment with himself. it’s true he can try out fetishes and kinks he would’ve never known about before, yes, but more important to him is the fact that he can do whatever he wants, be whoever he wants to be, act however he wants to act.

yet he instantly buckles the second you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at him without so much as a second thought. for as long as he’s known you he’s always had the urge to tell you everything, to talk for hours and hours about anything on his mind. he’s never felt like he needs to hide anything from you; even with this, his darkest secret, he’s an open book. willing and far too eager to answer anything you ask him.

a small, distant part of him has sort of always wanted you to find out about his alter ego, to question him exactly as you’re doing now. the thought of his secret becoming your secret, too. 

“i guess so, yeah.” he grins and glances over at his laptop still sitting open, the image of himself paused on the screen.

you follow his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the video and trying not to find the similarities between the two. “you ever do anything… together? or just solo?”

only after you’ve said it do you realize how that question sounded coming out, and yet again you wish you could take back your words. it wasn’t meant to be an offer—though deep down you really wouldn’t mind that at all—but despite the numerous boundaries you’ve already overstepped tonight, you don’t think that’s a line you’re willing to cross just yet. 

being aware of your best friend’s homemade porn and even watching it is one thing, but actually fucking him is completely different. and no matter how bad your feelings are for him, it still feels off limits. unless he suddenly decides to grab you by the neck and tell you he wants you to ride him until your legs give out (which you’d gladly do, for the record), you’re just going to have to keep those desires to yourself. 

the implications of your question hang unanswered in the air, and you stumble to explain yourself before he has the chance to outright reject you. “that's not what i mean—not like that. i wasn’t… nevermind.” you cut yourself off, hoping you haven’t managed to dig yourself a deeper hole.

the corner of his mouth upturns in a smile that you find infuriatingly hot. “you weren’t what? and no, i haven’t. never had anybody i liked enough to try it with.” he gets shy again, glancing away from you and staring at his desk chair absently. “i haven’t told anyone about it, so it’s not like i have many options even if i wanted to.”

your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and that guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach from seeing something you shouldn’t have returns. you’re the only person who knows? and you only saw it on accident, so clearly he didn’t mean for anyone to ever find out. fuck, all of this was a mistake and maybe you really should pretend like nothing ever happened.

“i’m sure the people who watch you would be lining up at your door to fuck you if you asked.”

“not interested.” he doesn’t meet your eyes, his gaze lingering on your body again for a moment too long, and for some reason that sparks something within you.

you clear your throat and it grabs his attention, looking up at you in curiosity. “well, anyway. i’ve thought of something for us to watch.”

he perks up a little, and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do because he seems so excited at the prospect of watching an actual movie. but you’ve endured more than enough of your fair share of his teasing over the years, and part of you is still curious to finally see him in action, so you grab his laptop and sit yourself down on his bed.

he walks closer to you to see what you’ve picked out for the evening, only to find you’ve put his own video on fullscreen, nonchalantly propping his computer up on your lap to watch as if his dick isn’t sitting in front of your very eyes in 4k high definition.

his cheeks turn even redder than they already were as he freezes in place, his eyes fixed on the image of his own cock in hand and toned body on display, waiting for you to press play.

“you coming?” you pat the bed next to you expectantly, smiling such an innocent little smile as if you’re unaware of what you’re doing, though both of you already know exactly what’s going to happen. and it’s driving him up the fucking wall. 

he’s so flustered that he doesn’t even laugh at your pun, still standing at the foot of his bed and trying to summon every last shred of his dignity to stop himself from getting hard for the second time tonight. just the thought of you wanting to watch him, showing interest in the videos of him pleasuring himself has all the blood in his body rushing towards his cock, and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep pretending he’s fine with this.

“i’ve never watched them after filming them. i was there the first time… never felt like i needed to revisit it.” he doesn’t mention the real reason he doesn’t watch them is because he’s afraid to see what he looks like when he’s thinking about you— afraid to see how his body reacts in ways that it definitely shouldn’t be without your knowledge.

you bite your lip absentmindedly, looking up at him with an inviting expression. “first time for everything, right?” despite the confidence you’ve gained your voice still ends up coming out soft and shy, as if you’re afraid to admit how badly you want to see how this plays out.

jun’s face flushes as he tries to ignore the way his pants continue to grow tighter. “you wanna watch me? i mean— the video? together?” he’s honored… no, he’s more than honored. thousands of people watch his videos daily, yet the only one he cares about is sitting on his bed and smiling that pretty smile of yours at him.

he rests his palms on the edge of his bed frame, and you can’t help the way your eyes rake over his body in reaction. he’s tall and always has been, towering over you as long as you’ve known him, but he never seems to be aware of just how big he is. or maybe he is and just knows how to use it to his advantage. either way, you can’t hide the shiver running down your spine as he leans over the bed towards you.

he can feel his body tingling with anticipation as he takes a seat down anxiously beside you, your fingers hovering over the mousepad before you finally unpause the video. no going back now.

at first you think the sound isn’t working as you watch him adjust his position on the chair in silence, but when you hear the seat squeak you realize he’s just quiet. your palms are clammy as you keep your hands planted at your sides, waiting for the action to start. just the image of him naked is enough to send you into a spiral, but you force yourself to be patient, knowing there’s better things to come.

you try not to stare at him next to you, but it’s impossible with the way he keeps nonchalantly adjusting his sweats every few seconds. you can tell he’s trying not to let on how hard he is, but unfortunately for him you're way too hyper aware of yourself in this moment and nothing goes unnoticed.

your gaze stays glued to the screen as you watch the recording of jun leaning back in his chair, tentatively taking his cock into his hand with a soft sigh. you don’t notice that you’ve been holding your breath until he starts moving his hand up and down along his length, letting out a shaky sigh that matches the ones from his recording. your cheeks are burning but you can’t bring yourself to stop staring as he brushes his thumb across his leaking tip, smearing his precum around with his fingers.

the muscles in his thighs tense and he lets out a little whine, and it sends a shiver throughout your whole body. you can’t see his face on the video, but you’ve seen his expressions enough to get the picture, and it drives you wild. you need to see it close up, need to see those faces he makes and confirm the way you’ve imagined it.

but even with his beautiful, painfully hard cock right in front of you, you still can’t take your eyes off of the friendship bracelet tied around his wrist, watching as it brushes against his cock with every stroke of his fist. you wonder how long he’s been doing this, how long and you’d never realized. he’d never seemed like the type, but then again, you were learning a lot of things about your friend tonight.

you manage to pry your eyes away from the video but your gaze just ends up back on instead, sitting beside you with the same thin bracelet adorning his slender wrist. you squeeze your thighs together as you stare at it, willing yourself not to think about it, but when another broken and muffled moan comes out of the laptop speaker you can’t take it anymore.

you suddenly stop the video, pushing his computer off your lap and closing the screen. he jumps and looks at you, eyes wide with concern. you'd hated it, didn't you? you thought he was a loser and this was all such a bad idea and he should've pretended it never happened in the first place because now your friendship is ruined and—

"show me."

jun swears he stops breathing for a second. he must not have heard you clearly, but when he pulls his gaze up to meet yours he finds you staring back expectantly, a hint of a smile on your face and a look in your eyes that makes him want to pounce on you and never look back.

"what?" his voice comes out cracked. god, if you're saying what he thinks you are… he's never been this hard in his entire life, including all the times he's edged himself to the thought of you. there's no way in hell he isn't hallucinating right now, because the expression on your face is straight out of his dreams.

your wandering eyes flit down to his bulge. "i thought you said you did live shows."

your heart is pounding, fearing you've finally crossed that last forbidden line for good. who knows when you got so bold, but you couldn't handle watching another second of that video without doing something about it. despite his shyness you know he's enjoying this, with the way he keeps tugging at the hem of his shirt and struggling to hide his painfully obvious boner. it's not like you're doing any better yourself, and you wonder if he can feel the heat radiating off your body right now or if he's noticed the way you can't stop squirming.

you hadn't expected that hearing his breathy whimpers through the laptop's tinny speakers and watching his abs flex on the screen as he squeezes his hand around his cock would have such an effect on you, but it's hard not to when the star of the movie is sitting right beside you. you're afraid to even move, at risk of revealing the wet spot beneath you seeping into his sheets that he was so adamant earlier about being clean. well, you know one thing for sure— they won't be clean after tonight.

so, you clear your throat and choose your next words carefully this time, knowing exactly what you're asking for and hoping, praying it'll be reciprocated. "why would i wanna watch a video when i can see it in person?"

"fuck—" his voice is strained, and your stomach flips at the sudden low tone coming from his throat that you aren't used to hearing. "you want—”

"i wanna see you," you cut him off, jumping on the chance that he didn't immediately shut you down. you look pointedly at the bulge in his pants, making sure he sees you looking. "do you ever do private shows?" you feel the heat in your cheeks burning with shyness, but you press on, your voice soft. "you know… one on one?”

“no— yeah,” he says hurriedly. “i mean, i can now. for you. if you want.” he adds the last part like an afterthought, because even though you just straight out asked to watch him jerk off, he still can’t comprehend that you’re into this. that you, his best friend of all people, is this eager to see him.

your reply comes out choked with desperation, but he’s so lost in your reactions that you doubt he even notices the change in your tone. “please?”

with dazed eyes he nods, moving his hands down to the waistband of his pants, and it feels like time moves in slow motion as you strain your eyes for a glimpse.

your breath catches in your throat as you watch him push his sweatpants down just below his hips, freeing his cock. the thick veins on his hands that you're used to ogling in your free time are nothing compared to the veins that cover his length, and they’re nothing compared to the grainy video from his computer, either.�� you're so tempted to touch him, you have to physically restrain yourself from reaching over and wrapping your hand around him, to feel its weight in your palm and feel how hard he is.

he soaks up your reaction, his pride soaring at the way your mouth is practically watering for him. he makes sure you're watching, then pushes his sweatpants all the way off and leans back against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs to get a more comfortable position before he starts.

“you gonna answer my question now?” you ask, your voice soft yet still teasing as he begins to drag his hand up and down his shaft slowly, pumping himself to full hardness as if he hadn't already been fully hard for the last hour.

the look in his eyes when he glances back up at you makes your heart jump, and suddenly the answer seems as clear as day. but you’re afraid to believe in it in case you’re still wrong about everything; even now as you kneel beside him on his bed, his eyes boring into yours as you watch him fist his cock, you can’t let yourself have hope that he feels the same about you. there’s been nothing to suggest that he does, besides the fact that he didn’t immediately throw you out of his house the second you found out about his alternative career.

he doesn’t answer for a long moment, and you feel your entire body growing hot under his gaze. for the second time tonight you feel stripped bare, despite the fact that you’re fully clothed and he’s the one half naked in front of you.

“are you sure you wanna hear the answer?” he says finally, and despite the way his voice comes out choked you can tell he’s just as nervous about this as you are. years of friendship changed by just one sentence, but whether it’ll be for better or for worse, you haven’t figured out yet.

you’re not sure if you really do, but you nod anyway, searching his eyes for any signs of hesitation. he groans softly, bucking his hips up a little into his fist as he opens his mouth to speak. you scoot closer to hear him, drawn to him like a magnet and your heart pounding as you wait for the words you so badly want to hear.

“right now?” he pauses. “i’m thinking about how bad i wanna kiss you.”

and after that it’s like a dam breaking apart, losing every bit of self control you’d worked so hard to maintain for so long as you press forward and meet his lips. his hands jump to your hips, instantly forgetting what he was doing as he gently tugs you onto his lap to get a better angle. 

you slide your legs beneath you, straddling his lap with your knees on either side of his waist as your mouth slides against his. kissing him comes as naturally to you as breathing, almost immediately finding a rhythm with his nose pressed against your cheek.

he starts out slow, tentative, but as soon as you kiss him back he’s throwing his own self control to the wind and pulling you deeper into him. you can feel his aching cock pressing into your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to grind down on him and ease the throbbing between your legs.

you finally force yourself to pull away, taking in the sight of him. his cheeks are flushed and he’s panting, eyes darting back and forth between yours in questioning at your sudden pause. “is— is that all you think about?” you ask, but it comes out more like a whimper. if it were anyone else you’d be mortified at how worked up you’ve gotten in such a short time, but if anything jun looks worse than you do right now.

“i think about you every fucking time,” he admits breathlessly. as always, giving up his so-called trade secrets the second you ask, because he can’t hide anything. doesn’t want to hide anything from you. “can’t stop thinking about you, even when i try not to—”

“during your streams?”

“—especially during my streams.”

you push your hips down gently, feeling your soaked panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds at the movement, but it’s all worth it for the angelic moans that fall from his lips in return. “and earlier…?” you pry. you don’t know why you’re so full of questions tonight, but a part of you relishes in his praise and the way he so readily admits his thoughts to you.

he stifles another groan, his hands trailing haphazardly over your body like a kid in a candy store, as if he isn’t sure what to touch first but he does know that he wants to touch all of you. “earlier— got so hard thinking about you coming over, i couldn’t help it…” he squeezes his eyes shut as you reach up to rest your arms around his shoulders. “so fucking lucky that you’re my friend, i don’t deserve you.”

you brush your thumb against his cheek and his eyes shoot open, his hips stuttering beneath you in surprise. “why?” you ask softly. if anyone is undeserving of your friendship, it should be you, not him; the way he treats you like a queen, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and being the best friend you’ve ever had.

“‘cause—” he swallows hard and looks up at you, his fingers shaking a little as they wander across your hips. “fuck, the way i think about you… you’d never say yes to that.”

you smile softly, leaning closer to him until your mouths are just inches apart and you can feel his hot breath on your lips. “you never asked me.” you glance up at him expectantly, nodding your head to give him a chance to say what’s on his mind.

“can i—” he curses under his breath, his mind going haywire at even just the thought of you letting him have more of you. “can i kiss you again?”

and it’s such a genuine request that you have no choice but to indulge him, your lips parting to let him in. it’s a kiss that you feel in your entire body, from the hands that have moved to your back gently guiding you towards him, to the butterflies in your chest and much lower places. you want—no, you need all of him, all at once, need his hands and his cock and his sweet, sweet kisses.

you lean back and press your mouth against his neck instead, feeling his soft skin beneath your lips as you start to suck. he groans in response when you nip at the underside of his chin, beginning to suck harder until you bite down gently and lift your eyes to see his reaction.

suddenly he wraps his hand behind your neck and pulls your head up to meet him face to face, crashing his lips back against yours in a frantic battle of tongue and teeth, filled with a newfound desperation. his eyes are closed and brows furrowed as he kisses you, one hand on the back of your head guiding you into him.

you frantically paw at his shirt, struggling to keep yourself contained. "jun, please— let me see you."

he leans forward away from you and tears his shirt off over his head without so much as a word in reply, quickly settling back and meeting your lips once again. his mind is racing a mile a minute, so eager to give you whatever you want, whatever you ask for, whatever you need.

he's so caught up in pleasing you that the thought of asking you to take off your shirt in return doesn't even cross his mind; you could sit fully clothed on his lap for the rest of the night and he'd still be over the moon. but you do it anyway, just as eager to please him as he is for you. you pull your shirt off as fast as you can, whining in frustration when you tug too roughly and it gets caught in your hair for a half second. but you feel his hand slide up your back and help you, untangling it and balling the fabric in his fist, tossing it across the room before pulling you back to him.

you fall forward and catch yourself on the wall behind his head, forcing you to readjust your seat on his lap and cupping his cheeks with your hands to stabilize yourself. jun shifts his position as well, threading one arm around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. his palm on your skin makes you feel like you're on fire, his hand pressing gently but firmly against the bare skin of your hip.

you can feel his length resting between your bodies, still hard as ever and throbbing from so much stimulation yet so little of it being directed at where he wants it most. you start to rock your hips, slowly grinding against him and feeling your cunt pulse through the thin fabric of your panties, and you wonder if he can feel it, too.

if he does then he doesn’t mention it, too caught up in roaming his hands over your chest now that your shirt is out of the way. you feel shy, not used to so much attention from one person and especially not used to it coming from him. a part of you wishes you’d at least worn a prettier bra, but he doesn’t even seem to notice that it’s the old ratty one you wear around the house. in his eyes it might as well be made of solid gold, with the way he touches it so delicately and looks up at you in a frenzy, begging you to let him take it off.

his palms cup your breasts the second the fabric is on the floor, moaning unabashedly as he pushes his face into your chest. his tongue laves over your skin with his eyes closed in bliss, and he groans into your breast before he finally tears his mouth away from you, giving you both a second to breathe.

"please let me fuck you," he rasps, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he holds your body close to his. "fuck, please— god, i need you so bad. i'll take such good care of you, baby, please, just let me. i'll do whatever you want me to, please—"

you shiver at the desperation in his voice, and if he wasn't still cradling the back of your head in his palm you probably would've fallen backwards with a moan. even from the few minutes of his video that you'd managed to watch he didn't seem like much of a talker, so the way he rambles on and on begging for you feels like a breath of fresh air.

you waste no time in telling him yes, practically falling off his bed in your rush to stand up and strip the rest of your clothes off. he wraps his hand around his cock once more and begins to thrust shallowly into his fist as he watches you shimmy out of your pants, and you whimper at the sight that’s become so familiar over the past hour.

both finally naked, you start to reposition yourself on his lap, but in a split second he flips you over onto your back instead. you let out a yelp as he cages you in with his long limbs, his cock resting against your body as he hovers over you. 

“please,” he pants, his expression pleading with you just as much as his words are. you don’t even know what he’s pleading for at this point but you nod quickly anyway, moaning out his name until he silences you with another hot kiss.

he sits back on his heels, kneeling between your legs as you spread them open wider for him. he forces himself to look away from your dripping pussy long enough to position himself at your entrance. there’s so much more he wants to do, so much he wants to try with you, but after dreaming about you for so long and now you’re finally here, he’s not sure he’ll last long enough to find out. another day, he tells himself as he lines up his cock. another time, if you’ll let him.

he looks up at you, waiting for you to give him a signal or to back out if you’ve changed your mind, but you meet his eyes and bite at your lip and give him the tiniest nod.

his hands are shaking as he guides himself into you, pushing just the tip inside and looking back up at you for confirmation before continuing.

by the time he’s halfway inside of you he has to squeeze his eyes shut as hard as he can, every muscle in his body concentrating on trying not to explode at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. a million thoughts are running through his head and he can barely see straight at this point, his tunnel vision focused on you and only you. if he remembers only one thing from tonight, he wants it to be this sight right here: the image of your face scrunched up in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in a breathless moan as you clench wildly around his cock. 

your hand grips his bicep impossibly tight as you adjust to his size, your fingers gradually relaxing as he continues to push into you until he bottoms out with a high pitched whine.

it takes a second for you to adjust, but as soon as you start begging him to move his body starts running on autopilot, his hips pistoning into you with more force than he knew he had in him. he’s stopped talking by now, almost completely silent except for the occasional groan and muttered curse.

you lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, pressing into his back with your heels to get him to thrust deeper until you fall apart in his arms with a cry, burying your face in his chest as your vision goes blank and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs.

he leans down over you, putting his hand between your head and the wall to stop you from being slammed into it from his thrusts as you crest into your orgasm. all you can do is hold on tightly to him, biting at his collarbone to stifle your noises as his eyes dart across your face, desperate to see how beautiful you look when you cum for him. for him, for only him, for your best friend who’s so in love with you it physically hurts.

what finally breaks him is the gentle way you reach up and hold his head with one hand, guiding him down to your lips to kiss you once more. your fingers tremble with aftershocks as you thread them into his hair, using his body to ground yourself as he fucks you into the mattress. 

his hips stutter and he barely pulls out in time to cum all over your pussy, his cock twitching as he releases onto your skin with a broken moan. there’s nothing he wants more in this world than to cum inside you, but in his desperation he didn’t think to ask ahead of time, and even his last functioning brain cell isn’t going to let that happen without your permission.

your fingers untangle themselves from his hair, sliding to his neck and down to his chest as he heaves shallow breaths. he blinks rapidly, trying to reorient himself and calm his racing heart.

“jun?”

he barely hears you calling his name, but his head tilts down to look at you before he can process it. you’re just as much of a mess as he is, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead and his cum coating your lower half, your chest rising and falling as you struggle to catch your breath.

and just like that, the fog in his mind is cleared and he’s jumping into action. he’s gonna do what he always does, what he has to do: be there for you and do everything right, even when he has no idea what’s “right” anymore because he just fucked his best friend and the love of his life and that’s not usually what best friends do, so what does that make him now? he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, but what he does care about is making sure you’re as comfortable as possible in this, probably the weirdest and most uncomfortable situation ever.

your fingers latch onto his wrist before he can get away, and he whips around with such a dumbfounded expression that you can’t help but laugh a little. “jun,” you repeat his name again, and this time it gets through to him and he pauses, eyes wide as he looks down at you.

“huh?”

“where are you going?”

“to…” he trails off, because he doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but his brain knows he has to do something. “uh, clean?”

you laugh. “god, i love you so much. just— c’mere.”

you tug on his wrist and he topples down onto you with a yelp, but you wrap your arms around him until he stops wiggling and just sits still against you.

your bodies are covered in sweat, sticking to each other as you hold him, but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in what must be years. “what are you so nervous for?” you ask him with a soft chuckle, pushing his hair out of his forehead.

“because…” he pauses again and looks up at you, worry clouding his gaze. “because you’re so perfect. and i don’t wanna mess this up.”

“you’re not going to, jun. promise.” you exhale and stroke his hair again. “if anything, i’m the one that messed things up. i shouldn’t have found out about your… you know.”

“can i say that i’m glad you did, or is that weird?” he asks with a breathy giggle.

your cheeks flush with heat, but you can’t disagree. “i’m glad too,” you admit, and the dopey grin on his face makes up for all the awkwardness ten times over.

you exhale slowly, finally feeling your body return to normal. you dread standing up—you’re not even sure if you’d be able to, after that—but for now it feels good to just lay here with jun’s head on your chest.

“so what about your channel?”

“i’ll delete it,” he rushes to say. “whatever you want me to do. i don’t care— i don’t want it anymore. all i want is you.”

you tuck a lock of hair behind his ear with a smile, feeling your cheeks glow from his praise. “well, i don’t want you to do that. all your loyal viewers will miss out on seeing you doing more than just jerking off alone.”

he raises an eyebrow at you, trying to understand if you mean what he thinks you mean. “like…?”

“like letting them watch you fuck your girlfriend?” you finish for him tentatively. even after everything tonight you still have doubts that you’ve misread his intentions, that maybe this is just a one-time thing to him and you don’t mean as much to him as he means to you.

he studies your face carefully. “is that what you are?” he asks hesitantly.

you nod slightly, the shyness from earlier suddenly rushing back in at the possibility of being rejected. “unless you didn’t want me to be.”

he shakes his head so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. “no— please. i do. so bad.”

you break out into a smile, cupping his face in your cheeks and leaning in to kiss his forehead. he hums, and the vibrations are warm against your chest . “you could’ve just asked me. like, years ago. would have avoided all the awkwardness of…”

“of you finding out i’m a porn star?”

you giggle, and he thinks it’s the most adorable sight he’s ever seen. lying naked in your arms together, making you laugh. “i thought you said you weren’t.”

he grins. “not really. but it makes me sound cooler when you say it.”

“i think you’re cool anyway, jun.”

he shifts and leans forward to capture your lips in his again, his mouth slow and tender as he kisses you this time. “i never wanna stop kissing you.”

you rub your thumbs across his cheeks, watching his fond expression that you know must be mirrored with your own. “then don’t.”

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[urprettylittlething]

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone. 

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm. 

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 

Wherever it was, it was concerning. 

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway. 

1, 2.

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down. 

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Regret

Pairing: DarkTom Riddle x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Lying is a flaw that Tom doesn’t appreciate.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Dedicating this to @insectgf cause she's Tom's no.1 fan 😋

--

You nervously wring your hands as you peer around, eyes searching for movement near the dimly lit dungeon entrance.

The way to the Slytherin Common Room.

You've been waiting for just over half an hour, anxiety building up and infesting your thoughts while you hold vigil in hopes of finding Tom.

You should have never behaved like that. An act of pure stupidity and recklessness, that’s what it was.

Going to Hogsmeade in the company of a few girls of your dorm.

It was a rare occasion, something you never did before, and you had only relented after much begging and convincing from the girls. A dumb decision – one that led to a dreadful aftermath.

You should’ve known better. All of your joyful chatter and laughter at The Three Broomsticks immediately ceasing once you spotted the distinct lean figure of Tom seated in a distant table, surrounded by his friends, his brown-eyes fixed on you.

No surprise or shock in his gaze, only cold anger irradiating from his handsome features.

Something almost comprehensible given how you had explicitly told him you’d be spending all afternoon in your dorm, offering the poor excuse of a headache.  

And now here you are. Scared, shaking like a leaf, waiting for the chance to apologize and beg for forgiveness.  

You're so pathetic.

The time drags by, and you lose track, feeling as if you’ve been waiting for an eternity. But your efforts pay off when the door opens, revealing Tom.

Your heart leaps at the sight and fear clouds your mind when he offers you nothing but a quick murderous scowl that immediately turns into one of composed indifference before walking away past you, barely acknowledging your presence.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he walks with long strides through the empty corridors.

“Tom?”

“Tom…please.”

The boy ignores your numerous calls, but you keep your hasty pace even when it has you short breathed as Tom quickly charges through the stairways and halls.

“Tom, just listen to me.”

“And why should I listen to anything you spew out of that filthy mouth of yours?" his snarl scares you as he suddenly turns. "It appears that lies and deception is all I can expect from you.”

You wince, barely opening your lips before Tom walks away, choosing to stare blankly at a wall.

The confusion in your mind dissipates as a large door materializes on the door and only then you realize that you’ve reached the 7th floor.

The Room of Requirement.

You hesitate for a moment but proceed to follow Tom as he opens the door with a loud bang. Your existence remains ignored and you take a few small steps inside the room, unsure of how to bring Tom’s attention.

“Tom?”

For a moment, the possibility of Tom disregarding you again was present, and you fearfully awaited as the seconds went by without a proper reaction from Tom.

He inhaled sharply, fingers tightening before he relaxed.

But when he finally turned to face you, you almost wished he hadn’t.

The venom that darkened his face had your heart faltering, his eyes narrowing into thin slits that held nothing but anger and frustration. He almost looked like a snake.

You felt yourself turning smaller at the sight, suddenly unsure of how to speak.

“I-“

“Trust is a rather curious thing.” he says with his voice oddly serene, “An invisible yet very powerful bond, one that defines the nature of one’s relationship. That’s how I perceive it.”

“So, tell me. How many times?”

You look at him, confused.

“Tom-“

“How many times did you break my trust?” he repeats himself, brows contorting with annoyance, “How many times did you sneak behind my back to meet up with those filthy mudbloods?”

“I- Only this time.” you tearfully admit, lowering your gaze to the floor as Tom angrily hisses something in that strange snake language of his. “I swear, Tom. I-I’m so sorry.”

“Just this once? And why should I believe your unreliable words? You seem to be very determined in breaking my trust, so tell me why should I consider any of what you say to be true?”

Your lips shake when you bring yourself to look at Tom, tears burning in your eyes.

“But, …” a minuscule sob cuts you off, much to Tom’s irritation, “it is true. It was only this once, Tom, I swear on my life! I never lied to you before, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry, Tom, I really am!”

The intent with which he examines your pitiful face sets you on edge, heart plummeting against your ribs as you don’t dare to say a word.

“Prove it.”

“Prove wha-“

“Prove me that you won’t repeat this act of disloyalty. Assure me how sorry you are.” the way his eyes glint with a new cruel motivation has a shudder running down your body, aware that nothing good will come out of his proposition.

“Perform the Cruciatus Curse. On yourself.” his lips curl at your bewilderment, clearly enjoying taunting you.

This time, the tears overflow and slide down on your face pitifully and you look at Tom, silently begging him with your eyes.

But there’s no empathy in his face. Only a vile purpose.

“Go on, do it.” he takes a step forward, his tone borderline threatening despite how lightly he speaks. “You can either punish yourself or I’ll do it for you.”

“Because I assure you that in the end, you will suffer.”

[evolnoomym]

Make Daddy Proud 🦂

Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You don’t necessarily like your Mothers new beefy Husband, he tries and tries. To no avail, you just won’t warm up to him. When his patience reaches an end things finally get interesting.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, Moon is not a name necessarily but more a nickname, age-gap, ages are unspecified, cheating, infidelity, alcohol consumption, smoking, reader is mean, dubcon, Daddy Kink, reader has a pussy, sex toy, wet humping (?) 😅, cum, squirting, Sunny appearance, reader kinda shames Joel,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sits On You Challenge. I hope you enjoy Beef, I love you 🦂🤎😏😏😏

Shoutout to @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🤎

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. I appreciate reblogs, comments and likes greatly 🫶🏻

Your Mother started dating Joel when you were 17, within a year they decided that the two of you would be moving into Joel’s house. Their relationship had an astonishing pace, it made you sick, you should’ve felt happy for her but you couldn’t bring yourself to get used to the idea of having a stepdad again.

Admittedly he was much nicer than the previous one. Joel was really trying to make it easier on you, but he realized quickly that you were not gonna just eat out of his hand like your mother did.

One time over dinner he decided to jokingly offer that you could call him Dad and you were not amused at all.

“You know Moon ya don’t have to call me Joel, could just call me Dad, huh? How bout that.” He gave you a happy and warm smile. He looked genuinely excited.

“No fucking way, Joel, thank you but you are not my Dad and you’ll never be. You are just you.” The response came out in a harsh and cold way, to clearly let him know that you weren’t up for it.

The rest of the dinner was filled by an uncomfortable silence and Joel never tried asking you again.

A couple months later, he caught you smoking out on the patio. He had planned to drink one of his beers in secret. He kept them hidden in his wood carving room, since your mother disapproved of the bitter sparkly liquid.

As soon as he slid the door open he got hit by the smell of burning tobacco. You were leaning on the railing, staring up at the sky, taking slow drags of the glimmering cigarette, clouds of smoke surrounded you and Joel couldn’t help himself from taking in your bend over form. The curve of your ass, your thighs and all the way down to your bare feet. Joel would never admit it but your distanced act pulled him in more and more.

You knew he was right behind you, staring, you could feel his eyes tracing you up and down. Perhaps you arched your back a little more than necessary to show off for him. Give him a show. Have something you could hold above his head if need be.

After he’d gotten closer he stopped right next to you and started quietly sipping his beer. At some point he held out his beer towards you and in exchange you offered him a cigarette. You both knew that this would be your shared little secret, with many more to come, big secrets.

Joel thought he made some progress that night, but you continued to treat him just like before.

Then the day came where Joel decided to get down on one knee and asked your mother to marry him, right in front of you.

You didn’t think it would be possible to dislike him even more. Why would he want to marry your mother? Why did he have to weasel his way into your life? Why did he have to look so good? Why was all of this happening?

The wedding was quickly planned, nothing too fancy, just the closest people invited, which sadly included you too.

On all the wedding-photos that were taken you looked disgusted and appalled by the reality of your situation. Your mother tried to reprimand you for pulling all these faces but you were not gonna pretend to enjoy any bit of the show they put on.

Joel obviously recognized some changes in your behavior after the wedding, but instead of getting better, it got worse. You didn’t even try to hide your disdain anymore. Purposely bumping into him, ignoring when he spoke to you and if looks could’ve kill he’d be dead long ago.

But there’s something else in the way you glared at him, a glimmer of something undetectable and it scared him to not know what went through your head. You could’ve been plotting his downfall and unlike the rest of the family, Joel didn’t wanna make the mistake of underestimating you.

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all like a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. Something you took advantage of, resorting to a childish approach of shaming his beefy form. Calling him out for his large portions, laughing loudly when you could hear him from the master bedroom complaining about his clothes not fitting properly anymore. He could feel your eyes tracking his every move, he felt like prey being watched before getting attacked, all of it happening in his own home.

Joel decided he wanted to make one last attempt to persuade you to accept his presence at least somewhat. You didn’t have to be his Bestfriend, but at least get along with him.

He had organized a spa weekend get away for your mother, so the two of you could spend some uninterrupted bonding time together. Maybe without your Mother you’d feel more comfortable opening up to him.

As usual you started the day by scowling at every move he made, even when you sat on the passenger side of Joel’s car while he drove you to the local aquarium you stared holes into the side of his head.

Even though you were afraid of deep waters he learned quickly that you loved sharks and have always wanted to go to an aquarium. Your mother however never really cared much for that wish, so Joel thought this is how he’d get you on his side.

Instead of having a pleasant conversation with you, he was punished with icy silence. He pathetically trailed behind you in the 2 hours it took to see everything the aquarium had to offer. You didn’t even thank him afterwards but he tried to chalk it up to you maybe having a bad night.

Joel hoped that perhaps him taking you to Kiki’s Nail’s, a very highly respected nail salon, would make you happy but more than a little smile was not in it.

Kiki generously offered that he could sit next to you, to watch what she does on your nails, but you quickly declined.

She also mistook you for his wife, which had you cackling loudly, purposefully embarrassing Joel and implying that he could never land a woman like you.

He got more and more upset, especially seeing you interact so excitedly and animatedly with Kiki. He didn’t understand what he had to do so he could get the same enthusiasm for himself. It pissed him off quite frankly.

When you stood next to him at the cash register you didn’t even blink an eye at 140$ your manicure cost Joel. You even went as far as to laugh at him for getting choked up by the amount of money he had to spend.

At least you seemed to really love the design Kiki did. A little victory he counted for himself.

When you got home, he told you to settle on the couch and relax, all while he was in the kitchen preparing his famous Miller tacos. Your mother told him behind your back that you liked them very much, but of course you’d never admit it to his face.

Even though Joel knew you probably just acted as if you didn’t enjoy them, the lackluster response soured his mood further. It hit rock bottom when you left him to deal with the dishes and ignored the fact he bought your favorite movie to watch with you.

After he had gotten done with cleaning up, he decided to indulge on some of his hidden whiskey. He pours himself a glass and sits down on the couch. Joel feels beyond frustrated by everything that went wrong today.

He spends 30 mins just slowly sipping on his whiskey, all while trying to figure out what to do next. The alcohol in his system makes the ever present Texas heat appear much stronger, so without thinking he pulls his sleeping shirt over his head.

Now only clad in his cotton pajama shorts and with alcohol cursing through his system, Joel impulsively decides he might have to take the route of having a serious talk with you about the ever pending attitude.

Joel stomps up the stairs, thinking you would hear it which makes him not even bother to knock, no, he practically throws himself against the door.

He should’ve expected to be greeted by immediate screaming.

“Joel what the hell?? Get the fuck out of my room!!”

“Noooo…no you shut up lil missy, ‘ve had enough of ya pissy attitude.”

“Get out,” And when he doesn’t react you continue “Are you deaf, old man, do I need to spell it out?? Fuck off.”

If Joel would’ve been less drunk he might have caught the panicked and out of breath way in which you spoke.

He starts shaking his head as he approaches your bedside.

“You know I’ve had enough of you, I tried all damn day to make ya happy. Ya didn’t show me an ounce of respect,” he comes to a stop beside your bed “ what is your goddamn problem, huh?”

You could say something to de-escalate the situation but that would be so unlike you.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

In Joel’s head a switch flips, within a split second he swings his leg over you and as he sits down on your hips the healthy swell of his tummy rubs up against you.

A shiver runs up your spine and you let out a sigh.

“W..wha- what are you doing Joel?”

He looks feral, like an animal ready to pounce on you any moment.

“Teaching ya a much needed lesson, sweet girl.”

His big warm, calloused hands engulf your wrists and pin them to the mattress beside your head.

Out of the corner of his eyes Joel sees something purple, he looks towards your nightstand and there it is. A purple silicone cock shaped vibrator, it looks glossy, covered in slick.

You can see the wheels turning in his head and when he seems to have come to some sorta conclusion his features light up.

His head turns back to you.

“Oh babygirl, ya naughty lil thing. You’ve been playin’ with yourself? Been in a bad mood all day long cuz that needy little pussy needed some attention,huh?”

Instead of answering your eyes wander down his bare chest.

“Where’s your shirt Joel?”

“Ya got a problem, baby?”

Your cheeks are heating up and you start nibbling on your lower lip while still staring.

“Ya like what you see sweet girl?”

He lets go of one wrist and tilts your chin up with two fingers.

You nod.

“Nah, use your voice babygirl. Come on ya know what I want to hear.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He grunts deeply.

“Atta Girl.”

Now both his hands slip beneath your lower back and he sits up while pulling you with him.

You go from being pinned beneath him, to sitting on top of his lower gut.

Your hands are splayed on his chest, probing yourself up.

His hands go to your hips, instantly squeezing and kneading.

“Oh baby, she’s leaking, dripping all over me. That lil pussy is so sloppy.”

With that his hands momentarily slip lower to pull his shorts down, at least so much that his cock can be freed. One of his hands goes back to your hips, while the other comes up to your mouth.

“Spit.”

And you do. Letting a decent amount drop into the palm of his hand and then it disappears behind you. At the squelching noises you're able to detach that he is touching himself.

“Start rubbing that cunt on me. Make yourself come. Use me sweetheart.”

He instructs, while setting a rhythm with the hand on your hip.

The slick noises that his hand wrapped around his length produce combined with your wet pussy fill your bedroom.

“Yes baby, ya doin’ so good for me. Finally being a good girl.”

You feel his thumb soothingly circling your hipbone.

“I was already close, I’m gonna come soon, Daddy.” You sound deliciously whiny.

Music to Joel’s ears.

It takes not much longer to make Joel catch up with you. You can tell he’s getting close by the way his hands grips your hip tightly, he will most likely leave marks.

“Baby you gotta lift up for me. Quick!”

You swiftly lift yourself up and watch in awe how he paints his tummy with white creamy ropes of cum.

“Good god, baby,” he writhes beneath you, “settle back down darlin’.”

When you lower yourself back down onto him you moan at the incredible sensation of his spend being spread up and down his hairy belly by your lips. It stimulates your engorged clit perfectly.

You are whimpering furiously.

“Da..Da- Daddy, so..so good. I’m gonna come, it feels so different, ughh.”

“Yes baby, be a good girl an’ come on me. Come on Daddy’s tummy.”

It takes only a couple more seconds before you fall over the edge with a high pitched scream, you feel yourself leaking more than ever before, hips stuttering in his iron grip.

You flop forward into Joel’s neck, burying yourself there and inhaling his comforting scent.

“Sweet girl ya made Daddy very happy, didn’t know ya could squirt, my princess is full of surprises, ain’t she?”

His cheek leans against yours to get your attention but to no avail, all energy was spend.

The soft snoring is all indication Joel needed.

He gently turned you on your back, got up, retrieved a washcloth and carefully cleaned you up. The last thing he does is tuck you in and leave a kiss on your forehead.

Hours later you are laying on your stomach in bed while holding the phone up to your ear.

“Sunny you won’t fucking believe what happened yesterday.”

Sunny’s manic giggling tells you she already has a pretty good idea of what could’ve happened.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Tags: @aurorawritestoescape @joelmillerisapunk @milla-frenchy @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell @iamasaddie @toxicanonymity @ace-turned-confused @strang3lov3 @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @moonlitbirdie @joelstummy @joelsdagger @joelslegalwhre @joelsgreys @pedge-page @littlemisspascal @fhatbhabiee @punkshort @macfrog @thundermartini @mrsmando @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @syd-djarin @msjarvis @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 6: Keep Me From Falling✨

Club Owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I have been writing this one on and off for a little over a month, and it was a lot! Be prepared for an emotional rollercoaster and please pay attention to those tags. This one gets dark. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being the best beta and making this chapter shine! 🥰 I would like as much feedback on this chapter, so don’t be afraid to reblog or comment because your comments are what sparks my writing 🩷

Chapter Summary: After fighting your feelings for weeks, you decide to go back to the club. Back to those dark shades of red where brown eyes pull you under and feelings become much more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 14.1k

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Tags: A lot of angst, jealousy, so many feelings, yearning, anxiety, toxic ex, flashbacks of physical abuse and trauma, soft Joel, protective Joel, no use y/n, a lot of tears, fist fight, I don’t want to put any spoilers so I will omit some of the tags, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The flashing red lights outside Club Inferno shine bright against the glow of the full moon. A brisk breeze cuts through the humid air, blowing through your long waves and kissing your bare shoulders. It sinks underneath the dark blue summer dress that clings to your figure. Your body hums with nerves, with need. You want Joel. 

   Joel, Joel, Joel. 

   He’s all you think about, he’s all you want to think about. Even at work, when you should be focusing on organizing bookshelves and paperwork, your mind always goes to him. 

   Sure, maybe at first you didn’t want a relationship, didn’t want to blur the lines. But you liked him, you really liked him. And you’re not sure when that line got crossed, but you were ready. Ready to take it to the next level. Needed to. You needed more. More of him. 

   So, now was your chance to make that happen, to tell him exactly what you wanted from him. A relationship. It was what you always wanted. You were just so scared to let your walls down again, but for him you would. For Joel you’d do just about anything.

   If you didn’t… well, you’ve already lost him once. You’re not sure if you can lose him again.

   When you reach the glossy black doors and step through after getting your ID checked, you see the club is buzzing with crowds of people tonight. The music is loud and blaring, even upstairs is jam-packed with bodies. But you only came here for one thing tonight: Joel Miller.

   You stop at the corner of the bar, brushing your hand against the sleek bar top and run your hand against the cool material. Scanning the crowd, you look for the handsome man that stands out amongst the rest. The man with the dark brown eyes that makes every single nerve ending vibrate inside you every time you set your eyes on him. That smoldering, captivating, charming man that sets your heart on fire. 

   A couple of girls in skimpy dresses get up from their bar stools and leave you room to see the rest of the crowd at the bar. Fresh faces of men and women you haven’t seen here before cross your sight until you get to the very end of the bar. Your heart gets stuck in your throat when you see it. 

   Right there at the very end of the bar top sits Joel, all muscle in a button-up crimson flannel with the top three buttons undone to expose his broad chest, dark hair peeking out of the open shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, accentuating the defined veins that wrap around his forearms, and the black watch clasped on his left wrist just sets it off even more. But what paralyzes you is the fact that he’s sitting at the bar with another woman. Someone who isn’t you.

   Her big, blonde curls fall around her pink blush-filled cheeks, and her tight red dress exposes large breasts that spill from the top of the low cut design. Red lips purse and laugh as she beams at Joel every time she brushes her hand against his fist that’s clenched around an amber glass of whiskey. 

   Two weeks without him and he’s already wrapped around another woman’s finger. Go fucking figure. You told him it was all just for fun, but it never really was that to you, was it?

   Your blood runs cold and you feel as if you just got hit with a metal bat against the back of the head. You tightly dig your manicured nails into the bar top. It feels as if a sharp knife slices deep into your back, slowly carving against your spine as it splits you in half. 

   Another light touch to his hand as she leans over to whisper in his ear sets your nerves on fire. You watch him laugh; that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at it now eats away at your insides. You can’t watch this. You can’t fucking do this tonight. He was supposed to be yours, but you’re too late…

   You feel a hot prick against the back of your eyes as your vision blurs, fiery tears bleeding into your eyeliner as you back up, your hand still clutching the bar top. You don’t watch where you’re going, and an entire glass of some kind of alcohol slides off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering and sloshing liquid as it splashes against your black high heels. 

   The crowd around the bar goes silent as they all turn to face you, but what stuns you into place is when Joel looks up and sees you standing there looking like a lost puppy. Your bottom lip quivers as you blink back tears, staring between him and the blonde girl that can’t keep her fucking hands off him. 

   His eyes grow wide as he looks at you stunned, immediately standing up from his bar stool as he pushes back the woman’s hand that reaches for him once again. His broad shoulders roll back as his full attention is on you, and then he’s moving fast, calling your name over the loud music as his voice gets washed out by the blaring noise. 

   You turn and push through the crowd, clawing your way blindly to a safe space where maybe you can breathe air that isn’t polluted again. You feel nailed to the wooden floor, chains ripping into your ankles as you force your legs to keep going. Joel calls your name, but you don’t stop to turn back around. You’ll break down in tears if you stop now. So you keep going, dragging your heavy feet until you reach the double doors and barrel your way outside. 

   The night air stills around you as the full moon shines bright behind fluffy clouds. The quiet parking lot is filled with parked cars, but everyone is inside. Not a soul stands outside besides you. That is, until Joel comes crashing through the double doors and calls your name again loudly. 

   “Hey, stop!” Joel yells out of breath as you hear his boots scuff across the pavement. “Didn’t you hear me callin’ your name?” 

   You turn around, crossing your arms over your chest and putting on a brave face, not letting him see the tears that scorch behind your sad eyes. “Guess not,” you mumble as you look down at the dusty cement. 

   “Hey, will you jus’ stop?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows as the lines on his forehead scrunch together intently. You shake your head and don’t answer, but he doesn’t like that at all. “Angel, talk to me.”

   “Don’t call me angel,” you mumble as you retreat a step back from his advances. 

   He takes a step forward and reaches out an arm to try to catch you. When he curls his calloused fingers over your wrist, you pull it out of his grip and shake him off. “Don’t,” you warn sharply as you turn your head the other direction. 

   You hear Joel huff out in frustration as he fights to compose himself. “It was that girl, wasn’t it? Is that what you’re so worked up about, huh?” 

   You bite your lower lip to keep from screaming and whirl back to him as you fight with yourself not to lose control. You purse your lips and then spill yourself to him. “Oh, I don’t know, Joel. Maybe you should go back to your little date.”

   “It wasn’t a date,” he expresses as his jaw clenches up, “it was jus’ a drink. She came up to me first, and all I did was offer to buy her a drink. She’s an old client of mine, nothing more.”

   “An old client, huh?” you scoff and feel your cheeks burn hot.

   “Yeah. Tommy and I did a job at her company’s site.”

   “I’m sure you did.” You roll your eyes and scrape your heel against the concrete.

   “Angel, I didn’t ask her here tonight. She jus’ showed up unannounced. What you saw was nothing.”

   “Oh, yeah? Then why was she all over you? Did you buy her a drink so you could sleep with her just like you did with me?!” Your voice comes out louder than you wanted it to, but you’re so worked up that you can’t control your flaring nostrils and watery eyes. You can practically taste the stench of regret in your throat. You should’ve never come here, should’ve never messed with a man like him. Tall, dominant, charming, and so goddamn handsome. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?

   “Whoa, easy there, darlin’. I wasn’t gonna sleep with her,” he says carefully as his voice stays even. Almost gentle enough to calm you down a bit, but even that makes you more uneasy. 

   “No? It sure looked like you were enjoying yourself, and she seemed to be all over you,” you spit out venomously, kicking the end of your heel into the hard cement. 

   “Why are you actin’ like this?” he asks, exasperated, his eyebrows knitting together into a hard line. 

   “Acting like what?” You seethe as you entwine your fingers tightly together, desperately trying to anchor yourself.

   “Actin’ jealous! All I did was buy her a drink. If I would’ve known you were comin’ I wouldn’t have even…”

   “Wouldn’t have what? Offered to eat her out on your fucking pool table!” you screech.

   “Jus’ stop!” he growls, making your eyes go wide and your heart hammer impossibly fast in your chest. “Is there somethin’ you want to say?” he asks as his jaw ticks and arches an eyebrow, his dark eyes meeting your gaze. 

   Your voice is suddenly as small as a mouse as you reply, “Say something? No, I…”

   “You’re the one who said you didn’t want more. Remember? I asked you, was willing to give you more. I wanted to give you more. All you had to do was say the words, angel. That’s all you had to do.” 

   He stands there staring at you, eyes locked with yours as you dig your long nails deep into the fabric of your dress, nervous sweat pooling at the edges of your soft curls as you bite your tongue in agony. 

   All you had to do was say the words. Why couldn’t you say those fucking words back in that little diner? What was so goddamn hard about that? You wanted him. You fucking wanted him. So badly that it actually felt like your heart was shattering in your chest. 

   “But you… after that night at the diner, you gave me the cold shoulder,” you finally reply. “You practically iced me out, didn’t ask me to come back to the club, couldn’t text me back, didn’t even…”

   “I was givin’ you space,” Joel interrupts. “I didn’t think… fuck. I didn’t think you wanted to come back!” He rakes a hand slowly through his silver threaded scruff and sighs, cursing under his breath as he stares at you with pure turmoil in his hazy eyes.

   “But I did want to come back! Isn’t that what I showed up for tonight? To see you?” you ask, appalled, eyes red with tears pooling across your glassy irises. 

   “I don’t know, angel, why don’t you tell me!” His voice sounds so angry, so gravelly, so very hurt. And you see it in the flared nostrils and wide eyes. He’s just asking questions which you should’ve answered a long time ago.

   “I didn’t… I didn’t want space. I never did…” Your eyes gloss over, and your bottom lip quivers as you fight to keep yourself in one piece. You want to say something, anything to make this stop, but your words run dry as he stares at you carefully. 

   He looks at you fiercely another moment as he licks his bottom lip in frustration. “Tell me somethin’, will ya? What is it that you want from me?”

   The question comes out almost like a snake just bit your ankle. Alarming, unexpected. “I… uh…” You can’t even formulate a coherent sentence as the words rush through your head. I was willing to give you more. I wanted to give you more. But they remain stuck in your throat, unable to escape.

   He takes two steps forward, adjusting the rolled up sleeves of his red flannel. “What. Do. You. Want?”

   The question taunts you, words building as you try to unjumble them. You can’t think straight, not when his mahogany cologne is burning your nostrils, not when his dark chocolate eyes are honing into yours, not when he’s so close that you want to drop all pretense and jump into his strong arms. But you can’t. It’s not that simple. 

   This is all getting too complicated, and you don’t know how much further you can go without putting yourself into a vulnerable position. You already are in a vulnerable position, so why can’t you just say exactly how you feel?

   After your silence, Joel rakes a hand through his dark, greying scruff and sighs again. “Goddamn it, angel. Jus’ tell me what you want.”

   “I… I….” You fidget and keep your eyes locked on his in a panic.

   For fuck’s sake just tell him what you want! 

   Joel pinches the bridge of his nose as he huffs in defeat. When he looks back up at you, he takes a long, slow breath and nods his head. “I can see this isn’t easy for you. But darlin’, if you don’t tell me what you want then I can’t give you that. Now, do you want me to go walk back into my club and go back to that girl, or…?”

   “No!” you plead as you reach your arm out and grab his wrist, holding it like it’s the only thing that’ll save you from falling to your death. Joel looks down at your hand gripping his tanned skin and looks back up with a mix of grief and hope in his eyes.

   “No?” he asks with eyebrows raised in question. “So, tell me. What is it that you want? Is it me you want? Do you want more, need more? Because I can give that to you, angel. I can give you so much more… if you’ll jus’ let me.”

   “You… you left me alone on the curb after I tried asking you about the guitar lesson…” you stammer out.

   He sighs and runs a hand swiftly through his hair, blowing out a long breath as he finds the words he wants to say. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I jus’... I was confused and angry and hurt because I thought… I didn’t think you wanted to be with me, and I really fuckin’ liked you.” He stops to correct himself. “Well, like you. And I apologize for jus’ icin’ you out. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserved that. I was jus’ sorta hopin’ we could be more, ya know…”

   His words leave you standing with your jaw dropped and eyes wide. “I thought… I thought I could be more than jus’ someone you hooked up with,'' Joel continues. “I wanted… I wanted to give you the world...”

   Jesus. He’s just as wrecked as you are. Holy shit.

   Your hand drops from his wrist as you fidget with the hem of your dress, nerves rushing through you like a raging river. He reaches his long arm out and glides calloused fingers gently down your jawline, pushing a curl behind your ear. And it feels so good. So good that you just want to melt inside his warm touch.

   Say it. Say it right fucking now before you ruin everything all over again.

   “I want… I want… y—”

   Your sentence is interrupted by the loud slamming of the front door of the club and then the pounding of feet on the pavement as you hear keys jangling from jeans and mumbling of gibberish you can’t understand. You jump out of Joel’s reach from the fright and compose yourself to act normal in front of a stranger coming out of the club.

   When you look up to see who so rudely interrupted your confession, your eyes go wide and the breath gets knocked from your chest as you take in exactly who stalks toward you. 

   Jason. Your ex. Holy shit…

   He says your name in surprise, calling out to you as you freeze up in place. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking real. Your stomach drops at the sight of his large figure, and your mouth drops open in shock.

   “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks as his murky green eyes stare coldly back at you. “Hi there, babydoll. Remember me?”

   You blink once, twice, but he doesn’t disappear. This isn’t a dream. He fucking found you. 

   “J… Jason?” Your eyes go as wide as an owl’s, your palms sweating as you take in his figure. Tall, tattoos covering his entire right arm, muddy green eyes that could kill, blonde shaggy hair that falls to his neckline, strong muscles that could snap a man in half, a gold chain glinting around his neck, and worn hands that could tear into your flesh. 

   “Miss me?” he smirks as you see nothing but coldness in his swampy eyes. 

   “I thought you were in jail…” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear as he moves toward you slowly, his strides wide and terrifying as he scuffs clean sneakers against the cool pavement. 

   “They let me out on good behavior,” he laughs as he shakes his head, pieces of blonde falling into his eyes as he pushes them away. “Didn’t know I’d run into you here. But I’m sooooo glad I did,” he chuckles, stepping closer. 

   Joel stands and watches the two of you, a conflicting look filling his face as his eyebrows furrow together in concentration. He looks so confused, which he should be. You didn’t tell him about Jason, never even planned to. You thought all memories of Jason were gone as you worked so hard to forget, but now they’re back with a vengeance, and you start to remember everything. 

   “You… you’re not supposed to be here,” you gulp nervously as you take a hesitant step back, but he keeps stalking towards you. Getting closer and closer until he’s only a couple steps in front of you. 

   “Baby, I can be anywhere I want to be,” he croons sickeningly. “And looks like I picked a good night to come out to the club.” You can smell the alcohol falling off his chapped lips, can see how drunk he is already with the way he sways and slurs. This isn’t good, none of this is good. 

   You take one more step back, but he grabs your wrist hard and holds out your left arm as he drags a predatory finger over the faded scar that sits on the inside of your wrist. “I see this hasn’t gone away. A keepsake to remember me by, huh?” he teases as he yanks you closer to him. 

   “Let go,” you demand with a desperate plea in your voice as you try to shove away from him, but he only jabs his nail beds into your wrist as you wince in pain. “I said let go,” you whine as hate fills his cloudy eyes.

   “No, I don’t think so,” he chuckles, holding you in place. 

   “Get the fuck off her,” Joel growls as he pushes Jason away with barely any effort. Jason almost falls off the edge of the curb. 

   Joel looks at you with concern laced in his gentle brown eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks as he looks at the way you hold the inside of your wrist. The faded scar comes into his view and Joel stares at it, his jaw clenching as realization caves in. “Did he… did he do that to you?” 

   You don’t answer, but the way your eyes start to water tells him everything he needs to know. 

   His eyes turn from concerned to full-on burning, rage taking over as he flexes his fingers into a tight fist and ticks his jaw up. He’s not just mad, no. He’s furious. Something inside you clenches up as you see how wrecked he looks; he looks like he wants to eat Jason alive. 

  “Hey, fucker! Step away from her. She’s mine,” Jason warns as he shoves Joel hard in the shoulder as Joel stumbles back a few steps. 

   Joel snarls at Jason, and you swear you’ve never seen him look this feral before. They’re going to fight. Oh, god. No. This isn’t what you wanted. They can’t just…    

   “She ain’t your girl, asshole.” Joel snaps. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

   Jason doesn’t listen; he just hounds Joel and pushes him hard against the brick wall as he runs over and grabs the collar of Joel’s crimson flannel. “The fuck she is!” Jason yells aggressively. “Who the fuck are you to tell me she’s not, hmm? Have you been messing around with her? Yeah you have, I can practically smell you on her.” Jason slams Joel’s head against the hard bricks. 

   No, no, no, not Joel!

   “Jason, stop!” you scream as you run over and try to intercept. 

   “You have no right bein’ here on my property, putting your hands on me or her. So, I’m gonna tell you one more time. Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops,” Joel snarls as he grabs the front of Jason’s shirt and pushes him hard out of his grasp. 

   Jason’s jaw clenches, and his eyes grow impatient. “NO.” The next thing you know, Jason is throwing his fist in the air, and it comes down like lightning against Joel’s jaw. Your eyes grow wide as you hear just how hard the punch hits him, and you’re gasping in horror as you watch, stunned in silence. 

   This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. 

   Joel takes a few seconds to recover, then he’s moving fast as he shoves Jason against the rough bricks and throws a punch to his nose. You hear the snapping sound of broken bones, but Jason just keeps going. 

   Jason grabs a hold of Joel’s collar and throws him hard while another punch lands against his face. You can’t stand it, can’t watch them beat each other to death. You don’t want any part of this. You just want all the loud, violent sounds to stop. You have to do something.

   Before Jason throws another punch in Joel’s direction, you step between them and try to push Jason away. “Jason, I said stop!” 

   Before you know what happens next, Jason slaps you so hard across the cheek that it nearly makes you see stars. He pushes you roughly and watches you lose your balance on the concrete. Cupping your cheek, you fall to the ground with a thud as it all comes back to you in a flash. You hear Joel scream your name in the distance and see him throwing Jason to the ground out of the corner of your eye, but you’re barely even there anymore. 

   Your vision goes spotty, and all you can hear is the white noise as your ears start to ring insufferably loud. Your palms burn as you dig your fingers into the cold concrete, feeling smaller and more invisible than you’ve ever felt in your life as your heart rate kicks up as the adrenaline rushes out. Your scar aches, your eyes shutting as you remember everything that happened all those years ago. You remember, you remember it all. 

   You remember how drunk Jason got that dark, rainy evening. You remember him cussing you out as you fixed dinner for him, remember him demanding you to bring him another bottle of beer, remember him chewing you out because you didn’t twist the lid open for him, remember him throwing the glass dinner plate across the room as sharp glass littered the soft carpet. 

   And that’s when he snapped. 

   He shattered the glass bottle against the edge of the coffee table as broken glass and alcohol spilled everywhere on the cream carpet. You remember him pushing you down into the shards, the sharp edges cutting into your skin; remember him hovering over you as he dug a piece deep into your wrist and called you a filthy whore, dragging the glass deeper into your skin. Remember all the blood that was spilling out, staining the carpet crimson as he made you look him dead in the eyes and threatened to do worse to you. You remember the police barging into the small apartment as they body-slammed him to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back. You remember the ambulance taking you away. You remember how close you were to dying, how you almost didn’t make it out alive, how you woke up shaking and scared in the hospital bed, afraid he’d come back to finish you off. You remember it all, you remember everything. 

   Your cheek burns hot as you cup it with your palm, feeling the scrapes on your hand bleed into the pain as wet tears spill down your face. It’s like it’s happening all over again. The pain, the screaming, the drunk mess of a man, the accusations, the absolute sheer terror you feel seeping through your thin bones. You feel so fragile, so torn, and you feel as if you're slipping through the concrete cracks, dying a little inside. 

   The faint noise of thrown punches and bodies slamming to the ground reaches your ears again, but you don’t have the strength to look up. You can only sit still, fade away with the noise, try to piece yourself back together when you know you can’t. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

   All of a sudden, the front doors of the club slam open, and you hear that familiar warm drawl. “That’s enough, Joel. You got him good,” Tommy says firmly.

   You hear the faint grunts of Joel sending punches right and left to Jason who lies on the ground just taking the hits, too drunk now to even comprehend what’s happening. You wince at the noises, the punches reverberating through your body just like you were lying on that floor passed out cold, only the echoes of policemen and the ER workers picking your lifeless body up off the glass covered floor. 

   “Hey, I said enough,” Tommy repeats. You hear the throws of punches die out into silence, only hearing quiet shuffling that echoes in your ringing ears. 

   Suddenly, you feel someone’s hands on your shoulders, shaking you to get up. You shy away, screaming no, but then the hands are back on you. They’re warm, welcoming, comforting. A ray of sunshine you need to pick you up off the ground because you don’t have the strength to do it yourself. 

   “Hey, look at me,” he says adamantly, but you pull out of his enticing grip that begs for you to hold on to him. 

   “No,” you say sternly as you fall back on your palms and wince in pain. You’re so cold, so weak, so broken. How did you ever pick yourself up off the ground that first time?

   Joel reaches for you again, and this time it’s more careful, delicate. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s me, it’s Joel. ‘S okay now. ‘S okay.” This time you let him help you off the cold ground, turning you around to face him as you sit on your bruised knees, staring down at the hollow ground. 

   “Hey, can you look up for me?” he asks quietly as you shake your head no and keep your eyes glued to the ground. You can’t do it, you’ll surely break if you see even the tiniest scratch on his face. 

   “Baby, look in my eyes. Please, jus’ look at me. C’mon, sweetheart,” he coos as he cups your chin and lifts your head. 

   Your breathing is erratic, your pulse quickening as you try to focus on him and him alone. You lock eyes with him, seeing those concerned flecks of dark brown swirl in your vision as he breathes out and sighs. “There ya go, nice and slow. Jus’ breathe for me.”

   Your eyes go wide as you see the deep red and purple bruises covering his strong left cheekbone, a tinge of crimson blood covering his knuckles he used it to avenge your honor. He got hurt. He’s hurt because of you. 

   “Joel, you… you’re hurt,” you stutter out as you place a hand gently over his bruises as he winces back in pain. 

   “I’m fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. You’re the one I’m worried ‘bout. Are you… okay?” he asks cautiously as he traces his calloused thumb over your jawline. You pick apart the question, going over the events that had just happened in the span of ten minutes. You weren’t okay, you were far from okay. 

   “I… I’m…” Your mumbling stops as you hear Jason yelling and stirring up trouble as he rambles on about how he’ll be back. You catch him saying “slut” and calling you and Joel vulgar names as security calls the cops. 

   “Sweetheart, say somethin’,” Joel pleads as he drops his large hand over yours and squeezes. 

   The wave of shock hits you like lightning as your scar burns, and the memories flood your mind in the present. This time you see Joel lying there in the puddle of blood, wrist cut up with Jason standing over him with a bottle of alcohol and a smug smirk tugging at his cheeks as his dark eyes stare down at your and Joel’s dying bodies. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much. 

   You feel hot tears swarm your vision as you throw your arms around Joel and sink your face into his warm flannel. The one that smells like him, his musk, his warm scent. The tears don’t stop pouring, your sobs echoing in the distance as you feel your body completely melt against Joel. You hear him call your name, feel him try to talk to you as he tries to get your attention, but you’re too far gone, too broken to feel anything. 

   “Tommy!” Joel screams as you hear Tommy’s footsteps scuff quickly over the cement. “Make sure that fucker never steps foot in our club again, and make sure the cops lock him up. Fucker assaulted me and her tonight. I’m gonna take her home. Jus’ make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble.” Joel snarls as you feel his arms snake around you.

   “Don’t worry, Joel. I’ve got it. Motherfucker is gonna pay for what he did,” Tommy spits as he storms off to the front doors. 

   Joel tries to stir you from his grasp, but you just hold onto him as tight as a koala. “Sweetheart, hey. We need to get up. Do you think you can get up?” Joel asks carefully as he tries to pry you up. You don’t budge, don’t even make a sound as tears blur your vision. 

   “Alright, c’mon,” he sighs as he stoops down and picks you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he carries you to his truck while your eyes soak the front of his flannel. “I’ve got you, babygirl. It’s gonna be okay,” he coos as he brushes his lips over the top of your head and sets you down in the passenger seat.

   He fastens the seatbelt over your lap until it clicks and lingers his fingers against your cheek. You pull away from him, leaning your head to the opposite side as tears begin to soak the fabric of your soft dress. You hear him sigh and listen to him back up, gently closing the passenger door while he shuffles to the driver’s side. 

   He gets himself situated in the seat, and you can feel that hovering gaze over you as he runs his fingers down his clipped scruff. You sink into the edge of the door, curling yourself into a tight ball as you feel his stare smother your insides. 

   You don’t want him to see you like this, all broken and torn to shreds. He wasn’t supposed to know this side of you. The part you keep closed up in a tight glass bottle that drifts off to sea, where no one will see the mess you keep hidden away. 

   This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen, but it did. It did. 

   You close your eyes tight and lean against the glass window, throwing up your shields as you drown out the sounds of the low vibrations of the truck, keeping Joel's concerned, prying eyes from your glassy stare, even blocking out his gravelly voice as he whispers soft words under his breath. 

   This is too much, it’s all too much. You just want to disappear, let shadows envelop you in darkness, fade away so you don’t have to keep living those horrible nightmares night after night.  

   This was all Jason’s fault, all yours for falling for a man who never loved you. The only thing he did was shatter your world completely and keep you from forming intimate relationships. And now you were permanently scarred, just like the mark against your wrist. 

   You’re a fucking piece of work, and nobody deserves that burden now.

   Joel locks his fingers around the leather steering wheel, gripping so tight that his knuckles are painted white as concerned eyes flick to your fragile form in the passenger seat. His thoughts fly wild, his breath quick, his teeth bared as he thinks of what that fucker did to you.

   He’ll drive down to the county jail this weekend, make sure Jason’s locked up tight, make sure he will never place another finger on your beautiful face. He fucking slapped you, knocked you down, and shed violent threats over your crouched body. He’s a dead man.

   Joel ticks his jaw, snaps his teeth together as he thinks of the asshole that hurt you. He swears to god if Jason ever lays another hand on you, he will personally kill him himself. He’d snap his neck, would make sure the fucker was ten feet in the ground, would fucking destroy the man that assaulted you. He’d burn everything, if only that meant he could keep you safe. If only that meant you were his…

   He rakes a hand heavily through his scruff, takes another long glance at you as you shake and whimper against the glass window, folding yourself into the smallest shape you can possibly get yourself in. And it fucking hurts him to see you like this, all fragile and broken and bleeding. He wants to take all the pain away, but he doesn’t know how, doesn’t exactly know what you need, but he’ll be gentle, delicate, whatever you need. He would be that for you. He’d be anything you needed him to be. 

   He gently drops a hand from the steering wheel, reaching out until he stops himself when he sees the jagged scar on your left wrist. How had he never seen it before, how had he not noticed? How was this the first time he’s looked at it?

   God, he’s such a fool, a fucking asshole. The way he iced you out, the way he didn’t reply to your texts, the way he fucking flirted with a woman tonight when he damn well knew all he wanted was you. How could he be so reckless with your feelings? He fucking knew better, and look where that ended.

   He should’ve figured out the signs sooner. The way you always widened your eyes and turned your head before he could sink his lips down on yours, the way you were so hesitant and careful about everything you did with him. Why didn’t he just stop after that stupid question in the diner, when he asked you what exactly the two of you were doing? He should’ve fucking known the way you tried to change the subject, the way you lost all form of words, your breathy stutters. He should’ve fucking saw your wrist and knew someone had hurt you. But he didn’t, and now he was the biggest asshole for falling silent and leaving you thinking he didn’t want you. And he fucking hates himself for that. Because he wanted you the entire goddamn time.

   God. He’s wanted you from the first moment he saw you in his club, sitting there all doe-eyed and looking up at him as your smile took his breath away.

   He’s such a goddamn fool, and he just wishes he could take it all back and start over. He’d be so careful with you, and now you’re sitting there scattered in broken pieces of glass, but he’ll try to put you back together the best he can. He has to try, he just has to because you’re all he really wants anymore. 

   You’re a living, breathing angel, and he’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to win you back.

   The truck stops in a dark driveway, one that’s lit with dim lights glowing against a tan garage. You don’t look up, not even when the hum of the engine cuts off and Joel frantically slams his door closed and practically sprints to the passenger side.

   When he opens it he hesitates a second, assessing your tear-soaked face as you turn away from him. You don’t want him to see you like this, but it’s too late. So why are you shying away from him?

   He carefully unbuckles you and gently lifts you up, cradling you against his firm chest as you sink against it, inhaling his fresh soap smell, the pine scent dripping off his silvery scruff. You smell it then: the scent of safety, of your knight in shining armor.

   Joel carries you into the house, taking you up the creaking stairs and what you assume to be up to his bedroom. You don’t lift your eyes, only squeezing them shut so you can forget the aftermath of showing up to the club. You try to block out the blonde woman, Jason, the fight with Joel, the absolute monstrosity of the events that led you here to Joel’s house. You try to forget, but you can’t. You just can’t.

   You hear a door swing open as you make it to the top of the stairs, his fast beating chest breathing rapidly as you cling to his warm flannel. You could stay curled up against his chest for hours, as long as you don’t have to open your eyes, as long as you can just breathe him and forget the rest of the world.

   Those thoughts are short-lived when you feel the back of your thighs brushing against a soft comforter, and then he’s unlatching you from his flannel. You unwind your fingers and fall against the bed, allowing him to take a step back as the numbness seeps back inside you. 

   You tug at your dress, the room feeling both too overwhelmingly sweltering and also as cold as ice chilling down every single nerve in your body. You just need to get out of this tight thing; the fabric is suffocating and squeezing you like Jason’s rough hands are still wrapped around your throbbing wrists.

   You jump when you hear Joel sliding a drawer shut, your fingers still tugging against your itchy fabric. You want it off, need to get it off, but you can’t seem to make your hands or body work.

   As if Joel senses you struggling against yourself, you see him carefully walking over to you in your periphery, his polished boots scuffing against the dark grey carpet as you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

   Your fingers fidget against the tainted material, and you just want it off now. He slowly, ever so delicately stills your hand, his palm flattening over the top of yours as he whispers quietly. “Here, let me help you out there, sweetheart. ‘S alright, easy now.”

   He slowly tugs your zipper down, ever so slowly pulling the summer dress off your body, and then unclasping the buckle of your heels as he frees them from your aching feet. 

   He gently helps you lift your arms as a long dark blue t-shirt envelops your body, the soft material hitting just below your knees as it clouds you in whiffs of summer breeze and Joel all together. It makes you feel safe, like he’s surrounding you in just him. And it feels so damn good.

   He grunts as he lifts himself off the floor, and then he treads into his bathroom, throwing the bright light on as water starts to pour from his sink.

   Drip, drip, drip. The sounds the water makes as it crashes into the sink makes your heart slow, makes you think about the entire night, makes you cringe as Jason’s face comes into view. You see red eyes, hear slurring curses, feel the glass cutting straight through your fragile skin.

   You grab hold of your wrist, embedding your nails into the skin as you wince at the memory. No more, not tonight. You can’t bear to think of it, so you block it out as the numb feeling tingles down your spine and surrounds every single bone in your body. You shut your eyes tight and count to ten in your head, hoping the voices will go away, but they never do. They’re just… ghosts.

   A few seconds later you hear Joel pad back into the room, his footsteps so slow as he takes step after step until the floor stops creaking. You open your eyes and find him kneeling in front of you, his eyes so lathered with concern that it makes his chocolate irises lighten just a little, and it makes your heart skip in your chest.

   He looks at you like you’re so broken, fragile, but you are. He hesitates as his right hand flexes up with a tan soaked washcloth in his grip, like he’s afraid to touch you, like you’re made of glass.

   “Is this okay? Can I…” His gravelly voice fades off, and his brows knit together as he studies your somber features slowly. 

   Permission? He’s asking for permission to touch you? Of course he is. After tonight he figures you don’t want to be touched, and he’s right. You don’t. But Joel, you’ll allow him the honor. 

   He slowly reaches his arm up, brushing a strand of hair delicately behind your ear, and then he brings the cool washcloth up and runs it over your stinging cheek. You wince a little at the pain, but you quickly lean into the cold material and let it soak your heated skin.

   He’s so careful with you, brown eyes flicking every few seconds to assess your face, making sure you’re okay, making sure you won’t just slip like sand into the cracks of the floor. That’s what you would be doing, if it wasn’t for Joel taking care of you. 

   You didn’t ask him to do this, didn’t imagine this being your weekend night with eyeliner running down your face or your eyes swollen and red. You probably look like a giant mess, but isn’t that what you are? 

   You flick your gaze up to his and spot the colorful bruise that flashes deep purple and crimson on the side of his left cheek, the exact same place as yours, and it makes your heart drop in your chest.

   Guilt spirals through your head, your chest, and then drops to your stomach. This is all your fault. Joel is hurt because of you. He wouldn’t have swollen knuckles and discolored bruises on his fingers and cheek if it wasn’t for you. 

   Your vision starts to blur, your fingers twisting into the soft sheets, and your body starts humming with vibrations as you begin to shake. 

   Your fault, your fault, your fault.

   Joel’s eyes widen, and his free hand lands on your thigh as he looks at you as if you’ll shatter into a million pieces. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” he asks as his mouth twitches into a hard line.

   You shake your head and whimper out, “No, you didn’t. I’m just…” You freeze up and almost lose your words. “You got hurt. You’re hurt because of me. This is all my fault,” you whine as another tear escapes your eye.

   “No, sweetheart. Not at all,” he murmurs as he reaches up and brushes a tear away from your cheek before it can fall to the floor. 

   He cups your face with both hands, his calloused fingers feeling like warmth, and then he gazes at you with so much intent and sorrow in his eyes that they start to glisten. “Don’t you dare for one second think any of this is your fault. None of it is, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

   Your eyes fill with tears as they start to spill over, your body trembling as you finally release it all out of your system. “Then why does it feel like it is?” you cry out, the room temperature dropping fifteen degrees as you shake with guilt and hurt.

   “Oh, sweetheart. No. C’mere.” He throws off his boots and scoops you up, landing in the soft sheets as he cradles you to his chest while he pulls the dark blue comforter over your shaking body. “‘S’okay, babygirl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he coos, folding his broad arms over your back as he takes one hand and gently runs it down the back of your scalp, soothing you of everything you’ve held pent up inside that you never got the courage to let slip out. 

   “Joel, the reason I didn’t tell you…”

   “Shhh. Not now, sweetheart. You can tell me in the mornin’. Right now I jus’ want you to relax, breathe, sleep. Jus’ focus on deep breaths. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore. I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes as his thick fingers stroke tenderly through your hair, easing you of the tension that you hold in your shoulders.

   “But I… he… you…” You just can’t make sense of your jumbled words.

   “Easy now. Easy,” he whispers, pulling you closer into him so you can nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck where it’s warm and safe and smells like the middle of an autumn’s day.

   You breathe him in, grasping on to his woodsy scent, sinking as deep as you can go against his broad chest, fingers curling possessively against his white undershirt, steadying your breaths to the slow rhythm of his heart, reaching for him and only him as your panicked mind starts to ease into calm waters, Joel the anchor that keeps you from drowning.

   You keep latched tight to him as you start to let your body get dragged into darkness where no one can hurt you, where only Joel keeps you floating into a deep, serene place where your body stills, your galloping heart starting to slow to quiet footsteps as you hear the deep sighs slip from his lips, letting it lull you to sleep as he holds you tighter.

   The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is the sound of his deep, gravelly Southern drawl where you feel most relaxed at. “You’re safe with me, angel. Always.” And then you slip into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

   The fan blows overhead, his head resting up against the headboard as he stares at your sleeping form that clings to his white t-shirt. His hand repeatedly strokes your soft locks, as if the motion will make the panic ease from your mind, as if he can make you feel safe, where no one else can touch your delicate form again.

   He brushes his lips against your forehead, caressing them over every perfect line that makes up your gorgeous face, needing to give you everything he can. He thinks you’re so perfect, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and now all he wants to do is take care of you, the way you should’ve been taking care of long ago.

   He slips a hand under the material of his t-shirt that splays over your body, carefully dragging his fingernails over your lower back in slow, meticulous circles as he soothes you from the panic. 

   “Nobody’s ever gonna make you feel unwanted again, baby. He’s never gonna hurt you again, will never lay his eyes on you because I’ll keep you safe. You’re so perfect, so beautiful, jus’ like the rarest flower in the world. That’s what you are. Rare, my love. You’re so rare,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, dragging his lips over your soft skin as he closes his eyes and breaths in the lilac perfume that envelops your very being.

   You stir beneath him, nuzzling closer as you groan and curl your fingers against his neck, getting as close as you possibly can. He almost thinks you’re awake, but your deep breaths and fluttering eyelashes say you’re in a deep sleep, somewhere far away.

   He hugs you closer and rests his chin on your head, fingers scraping softly against your soft skin, exactly how you like it. He’s always wanted to keep you safe, but now it’s his mission, like his life depends on it. He’ll spend his entire life convincing you if he has to. You’re his now, and he’s never going to let you go.

   He lets his eyelids shut as the fan hums him to sleep, keeping his arms wrapped safely around you, his lips pressing once more to your forehead as sleep drags him under. And for once in his life, he sleeps the rest of the night because you are safe in his arms.

   You wake to the chirping of singing birds as the sun shines brightly through the sheer curtains, your eyes slowly peeling open as you feel deep, slow breaths underneath you. You quietly stir, groaning as you tug his t-shirt against your fingers, suddenly very aware you stayed the night at Joel’s in his bed, in his arms.

   You feel Joel readjust beneath you, lifting your chin as you’re met with the most beautiful sleepy brown eyes you’ve ever seen. And the drawl of his sleep-ridden gravelly voice doesn’t make it any better. “Mornin’, sunshine. You sleep okay?” He curls a lock of hair behind your ear and lingers his calloused palm on your skin, making you warmer than you were before.

   “Mmm, I did,” you smile sleepily as he chuckles, making his brown eyes crinkle as the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his eyes. God, he’s always so handsome, especially in the morning, fresh from a long night’s rest with tousled bedhead curls that you want to run your fingers through. 

   “Good, that’s good,” he murmurs, a crooked smile curling over his lips as you seem to get lost in his beautiful face.

   You almost nestle back into the crook of his neck, but when you look over you realize it’s a quarter past 10:00. Your eyes go wide and you jump up, realizing you’re probably messing up his entire day. “Shit, Joel. I didn’t know it was so late. I’m sorry, you should’ve woke me up earlier.”

   You’re nearly frantic, but he places a palm softly on your face and turns you to look straight into his sleepy eyes. “‘S alright, angel. Jus’ calm down. I took the day off. Tommy’s got me covered, don’t you worry.” 

   “Oh.” You look at him with wide eyes while his thick fingers trail down your jawline like velvet. 

   “Wasn’t gonna jus’ leave you alone after last night. Needed to make sure you were alright. Figured I needed to take care of you.”

   Oh. Take care of you? No one has ever… done that. Taken care of you before. And yet again, he leaves you completely speechless. “To… take care of me?” Your voice is barely a whisper as you stare up into gorgeous flecks of chocolate eyes.

   “That’s right, sweetheart,” he smiles, a hand slowly smoothing down your messy locks as he comforts you.

   All you can muster up is a pathetic thank you as you nestle back into the scruff of his neck, hitching your leg around his hip as you hold tight to his broad chest. His fingers trail soothingly up and down your back, his nail beds scratching softly along your exposed skin as he soothes your growing panic. 

   After a few minutes of cuddling, he shifts his weight and drags his lips across the shell of your ear. “You wanna take a bath?” You nod your head and allow him to unravel you from his comforting hold. “Alright then, c’mon.”

   He carries you into the bathroom, flipping the light on as he goes. He carefully sits you down on top of the ceramic countertop, dropping his thick fingers from your sides so he can start the water in the tub.

   The faucet squeaks and turns, shooting out warm water. You lean against the mirror and close your eyes for just a second, letting the hum of the water calm your stirring tides, letting the sounds of Joel brushing past you soothe you as he sets out some clean towels from the polished cabinet. 

   You start to drift off again, trying to forget the horrors of last night. You start to slip into darkness, but Joel pulls you right back out as you start to fade to black. “You ready?” he asks, standing right in front of you with his thighs meeting your knees, one hand softly grazing along the jawline of your face.

   “Yeah,” you mutter out pathetically, and then he lifts you off the counter and sets you on flat ground.

   “C’mere, pretty girl. Let’s get you out of this.” He cautiously lifts the hem of his shirt and carefully drags it over your head. You place a hand steadily on his veiny forearm, slipping out of your panties until you’re completely bare and shivering like you’ve just walked out into a snowy blizzard. 

   He quickly throws his t-shirt off, shedding himself of his jeans and boxers until he has nothing left covering himself. The bubbles fizz at the top of the tub as he cuts off the water, slipping his fingers through yours so he can help you in the tub. 

   “In you go, angel. There ya go,” he murmurs, letting the warmth lap against your skin as he settles behind you, pressing your back into his broad chest while his thick arms envelop you in comfort.  

   You close your eyes, press your fingertips into his hot skin, and soak in the smell of his rich mahogany scent that always seems to calm you down. You shut out the violent events of last night, only thinking about how Joel swept you up in his arms and took care of you, making sure you were safe and heard, promising you that you were safe. And you were safe, you’re always safe in his strong arms, arms that claim you as his now, hopefully. 

   “Easy now, you’re alright,” he hums in the shell of your ear, caressing his lips against your jawline, slowly taking the soft washcloth over your arms as he bathes you in lavender soap. You lean into his broad body, groaning each time he glides the washcloth over your delicate skin, drowning in the attention and care he’s giving you.

   He didn’t run, he stayed. 

   He picks you up gently and cradles you over his lap, your legs splayed over his thighs while your face nuzzles cozily into the crook of his neck, his calloused fingertips gently skating down the edge of your jawline. You relax every muscle in your body because you feel safe; Joel makes you feel safe.

 �� He trails his hand down your forearm and pauses at the dip in your wrist, where the scar is visible. His fingertips feel like fire as they hover over the marked area that still feels fresh from years ago.

   “You wanna talk ‘bout it?” he asks shakily, like you’ll break if he’s too loud or if he presses too hard on the scarred skin. You jump when he touches your wrist, and he quickly releases from that spot like he just burnt you more.

   “I…” There you go choking again. When will you ever learn?

    “You don’t have to talk ‘bout anything you’re not comfortable with, sweetheart. Jus’… I wanna know what happened to you because I want to understand you, want to make sure I don’t set off any triggers. I jus’ wanna know how to make you feel safe, babygirl.”

   Babygirl. There’s that word again. The one that makes you think you’re finally his.

   You flick your gaze up to him, staring into concerned brown eyes that draw you in like a moth to a flame. He always did know how to calm you down with just those soft, syrupy eyes. You look down and trace your index finger along the damp, wiry hairs along his chest, and then you take a deep breath.

   Here goes nothing.

   “No, I… I want to tell you everything. So let me try.” You take a shaky breath and breathe out slowly, numbing your body enough to where the adrenaline isn’t filling your lungs, and then you lay it all out like you should’ve long ago. “I went through a lot in my past, Joel. With Jason. He was… he wasn’t always terrible. At least not in the beginning. He picked up drinking after he was in the service. He wasn’t always home, but when he took an early retirement from the military and came back he was a horrible alcoholic. I mean, drowning a whole six pack or more a day. And it just got worse and worse. And he… he…”

   You have to take a breath and close your eyes for just a second, focusing on not falling apart as you feel hot tears well in your eyes at thinking back to the past you so desperately want to forget.

   Joel puts a comforting hand on your lower back, giving you that nudge you need to continue your story. “He got really mean, especially when he was drunk. And I wanted to get out so bad, but he’d just suck me right back in. Promising he’d change, that he’d do better, but he never did. He never even tried. And then I tried to leave one night because he had me so terrified that I packed a bag and ran, but he got me before I was able to make it out the door. And he… he threatened me. Had me pressed up to the door with his hand wrapped around my throat. And he… he told me if I ever left he’d find me. So I felt trapped, and I couldn’t even talk about it to anyone because I was so fucking scared that he’d come after them, too.”

   Joel’s eyes are wide, and his nostrils are flared, his hand drawing slow circles across your back in a soothing motion. You can see he’s fighting to keep his mouth shut, and he nods for you to continue.

   “And then one night, Jason got really drunk. It was a rainy night, and I was cooking him dinner. There was something he didn’t like or something about how I was out too late the night before. I can’t exactly remember, but he was so fucking angry. His eyes were bloodshot red, and he was screaming for me to get him another beer. And I just remember thinking he was going to do something terrible to me. He was… abusive and manipulative… and he was so damn good at talking me down. I still… sometimes I still have nightmares.”

   Joel’s fingers curl against your skin, and he presses you tighter against his chest, like he’s trying to soften the blow for you. He’s so good. 

   “But when I handed him the beer, he slapped my face hard and he broke the bottle on the coffee table, even smashed his dinner plate and sent the coffee table across the room. There was so much glass and noise and chaos… and I remember… I remember he pinned me down against the carpet and started lashing out at me, like I was the problem, like I was the reason he was so angry. And I tried to push him away, tried to scream for help, but he took the edge of the broken bottle and slashed my wrist open… he tried to kill me…”

   The bathroom goes completely silent as Joel stares at you with a hint of terror flashing through his eyes. You feel the hot pricks of teardrops cascade down your cheeks, and then you’re a blubbering mess again. “I remember the sirens, the police, how I blacked out and woke up in the hospital. And I was alone, didn’t even remember what happened. All I knew was that I was in a strange place with IVs hooked to my arms, and I could barely see straight because I lost so much blood. And I… I was… I was so scared, Joel. They said… they said I was almost dead. If they would’ve gotten there two minutes later I wouldn’t be sitting here telling you this…”

   Joel wraps his arms firmly around you, cupping the back of your head with a strong hand as he sends a wave of comfort around you, holding you while you cry your heart out and lay out everything just so he knows why you’re so messed up and broken.

   “Oh, babygirl. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that. That’s… my god, that’s traumatizing.” You wrap your arms around his thick back, burrowing your face into his warm chest as you soak up his warmth.

   “And he… he always said how nobody else could love me, that I was worthless, that I was nothing. And that’s why… that’s why I am the way I am. Because of him.” Your voice cracks as more tears roll down your face. 

   Joel tips your chin up and rubs the tip of his thumb under your eyes, catching big tears as he brushes them away. “Oh, no no no, sweetheart. Don’t you believe him for one minute. You’re so beautiful and you’re strong and you’re worthy of love. Don’t think for one second on it, darlin’ girl. You’re worth it all.”

   You’re worth it all. The words make your eyes glassy as you stare wondrously at the man that saved you from it all. “Thank you for… for making me feel safe,” you whisper against his chest.

  “Always,” he murmurs as his thick fingers run through your hair calmly. “Thank you for trustin’ me with that information, angel,” he whispers against your ear. “You’re such a brave girl, you know that?” He gently presses his lips to the top of your head, and you sink deeper against his warm, welcoming chest. “The bravest girl I know.”

   You’re such a brave girl. The words make you choke back a sob. “You really think so?”

   “Mhm. I do, angel. I do.” His voice is so warm, almost like a brassy baritone sound that glides through your ears, like you could listen to it for forever.

   You melt into his firm chest, eyes glistening up at him as you swallow your tongue and force more explanations out that he probably doesn’t need. “It’s sometimes hard for me to ask for what I need. After so long of that, I kinda lost my voice on things that matter to me,” you mumble shyly as if he’ll draw back from you, but he only pulls you closer.

   “It’s okay, sweetheart. I can be patient,” he coos into the shell of your ear, sending a wave of relief down your body.

   “That’s why at the diner I couldn’t… I froze up when you asked me what I wanted. And I… God, I knew what I wanted. I just couldn’t say the words,” you stutter out, jumbling the words as they seem to blur all together.

   “Hey, s’alright, angel. I should’ve… fuck. I should’ve been better. The way I acted after the diner. I jus’ can’t tell you how sorry I am, sweetheart. I know I hurt you by what I did. I jus’ wasn’t thinking, and I should’ve picked up on the signs the first night I met you. The way… you were so hesitant, and each time I even got close to your lips… Shit, I’m jus’ real sorry, darlin’. There’s not enough apologies that I could give to make it up to you.” He sighs and drags a large hand through his tousled curls, letting another sigh of frustration catch in his throat. “I’m sorry for leavin’ you on read for two weeks. I jus’… I was a wreck myself, but that’s a sorry excuse for bein’ an asshole, and right now I don’t even deserve redemption after the trouble I caused.”

   You shake your head as if he shouldn’t be apologizing at all. “No, Joel. It’s okay. I should’ve just… I should’ve been better by now. About my feelings, about asking for what I need. I tried to bury my past, but all it did was eat me alive.”

   He cups your chin and lifts your face to where your eyes meet his, and he looks so soft and sincere. You think you could just drown in those syrupy eyes filled with warmth. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t apologize. Not after what you’ve been through, my brave girl. Don’t even think about it for one second.”

   My brave girl. The words send a splash of hope pulling through your veins at the word my, like maybe you are his.

   “Joel, I…”

   “Angel, s’alright. I’ll be whatever you need me to be, alright? Jus’ know that you’re so fuckin’ special, and I swear to god I’ll strangle myself before I ever hurt you again. And if someone even thinks of messin’ with you again, jus’ know I’ll kill ‘em with my bare hands. Because you are one of a kind, angel. Never met a girl like you before…”

   “Joel…” You drag your fingertips across his greying scruff, your eyes glistening with longing and need, and then the word block comes up. You push and push, until you have nothing standing in your way anymore from telling him how you really feel. You take a deep breath and let the words fall off your tongue like you’re free falling, and somehow you know he’ll catch you. “I just… what I wanted to say back at the diner is that… I want you. God, I’ve wanted you for so long. And when you didn’t talk to me for almost two weeks… well… it was just… it was the worst thing ever, but I knew I messed up and probably deserved it and…”

   He cuts you off, muttering a soft apology as he looks at you stunned for half a beat, his eyes raining with a look of longing and relief as he pulls you flush against his chest, letting the bubbles float around your entwined bodies. “Oh, sweetheart. No, you never messed up and you absolutely never deserved that. Listen to me very carefully. You have me. I’m all yours, sweet girl. I’ve been yours since that first night we met. And this is me askin’ for forgiveness, and I pray to god you’ll accept it because I don’t think I can see you walk out of this house unless it’s with me standing by your side.”

   Your eyes go wide as you stare into gentle brown eyes, eyes that say they want you. “You… you still want me? Even after…”

    He pushes back a piece of loose hair and grazes his knuckles softly down your jawline. “Angel, I’ve never stopped wanting you. And now, I want you even more.”

   “You… want me…” you repeat in a hushed whisper, afraid that your ears are deceiving you. No one’s ever wanted you, so how could this perfect, gentle man want you?

   “I want you every minute, every second, every breath of every day, sweetheart. I always want you. And if that asshole or any other fucker ever made you feel like you weren’t wanted then let me show you that that’s not true. Because I want you, angel. You’re worth everything, you beautiful, sweet girl. You’re worth it all.” 

   Your eyes blow wide as you feel a warm teardrop roll down your cheek. Joel brushes it away carefully with the pad of his thumb and lingers against your skin, making you feel warmth you’ve never felt in your life. 

   The bubbles splash around you with every shaky breath you take as your fingers graze his patchy beard, delicately tracing each strand of grey that threads through the dark hair, memorizing each fleck of onyx brown that glitters under the bathroom fluorescent lights. Your other hand pushes back a tousled curl off his tanned forehead, lingering your fingers in his messy hair like it’s your favorite shade of color that you want to lace your fingers through forever.

   This man, this sentimental, extremely sweet hunk of a man is yours. He wants you, he really wants you. And for the first time in your life you know what it should feel like to be cared for, to be wanted, to be loved. At least it feels like love. The slow, sensual way he says your name, the longing gazes from his deep hazel eyes that make you blush like a silly girl with a school crush, the way he takes care of you, listens to you, the way he makes you feel safe like no one else has.

   Safe. He makes you feel so safe, so seen, so loved. That’s it. Love. You love this man, and you really just want to fucking kiss him because he’s looking at you all doe-eyed and like you’re the only thing in the world that he wants to look at. And that’s it. You’re finished, smitten, done. 

   This is it.

   It’s like the world stops spinning on its axis as you carefully lace your fingers through his curls, your other hand sliding along his chiseled jaw as you push yourself higher onto his lap and let your forehead connect with his.    

   He breathes in deep and hooks one arm around your lower back, his other hand skimming underneath your chin, letting the tip of his thumb graze along your lower lip. He lets it sit there, memorizing each crevice, every line that connects your smooth lips, and it’s like fire that tingles down your body, like no one has ever touched you before. Not like this, not like he’s mapping out every single trace of your soul, reaching in and stroking your heart like he’s putting together every broken piece of your shattered past.

   “Do you know what my favorite thing about you is, angel?” He whispers with a deep, gravelly tone, shaking your very core as he continues to explore the lines of your lips.

   “What?” Your voice is so scratchy that you almost don’t recognize it. You’re just very aware of how close his lips are, how intimate this moment is in the bathtub, on his lap while he tells you how much he wants you. And it’s so much, so very paralyzingly too intimate, but you don’t care. You don’t have the strength to deny him any longer when you want him just as badly as he wants you.

   “How brave you are. You’re the bravest, strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And the best part is how you wear your heart on your sleeve even after everything you’ve been through. And I’m so lucky to have had the honor of meeting the prettiest angel in the room the first night I met you. And I’m so happy that I can call you mine, pretty little angel. You’re mine.”

   You lean into Joel’s broad body, threading your fingers through his hair, gasping at the beautiful words that fall off his tongue so easily, mesmerized by the incredible man that keeps you breathless with every word he speaks.

   You breathe in his rich mahogany scent, clinging to every word that wraps around your mind. You brush his nose and feel the warmth that heats off his skin, his lips, his very essence that seems to crash into your own body. And it’s like every single sound in the world stops as your lips brush his, like this is what you’ve waited for your entire life, to kiss him. 

   The slight tug of his large hand that cups the back of your neck is all the motivation you need. You let your hand fall against his slacked jaw, and then your lips are on his.

   Warm. His lips are so warm, soft, perfect. Like they were molded just for you. You lean into his chest and hum against his plush lips as you circle your arms around the back of his neck. It’s like earth stops and gravity isn’t real, even the bubbles in the bath seem to come to a standstill as the kiss permeates throughout the room like sparkling firecrackers filling the warm air.

   You part your lips, allowing him to slot his tongue into your mouth, and then he’s surrounding you in complete warmth as you melt as his honey-like tongue explores your mouth slowly. The kiss is nothing like you’ve experienced before. It’s warm, slow, inviting, and it’s written with Joel all over it.

   Joel doesn’t rush, only takes his time as he delves into your mouth, swallowing his cinnamon taste as you drown in the very essence of him. Your bodies move in unison, fingers threading against one another’s hair, hearts beating impossibly fast against each other’s chests, a slow staccato rhythm that lights hearts on fire. You’ve never experienced anything this romantic in your life.

   The kiss eventually ends as his lips disconnect with yours, and all you want to do is get wrapped up in your favorite lips again, but your breathing is ragged and you need some air as the stifling feelings start to fill your chest.

   Joel laces his fingers through your hair and looks down at you with the most beautiful shade of deep brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, and you swear he looks completely smitten with you, almost like he’s in love. “You’re tellin’ me I had to wait that long to kiss you?” He smiles, resting his forehead down on yours.

   “Sorry,” you apologize with red cheeks.

   “Don’t gotta be sorry, angel. That was one hell of a kiss. The best damn kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he purrs, lightly stroking slow circles against your jawline.

   You gently laugh as you curl a finger down his broad chest. “Still, sorry I made you wait so long.”

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “I’d wait forever if I had to, angel. You’re worth it.”

   Your lips part and your eyes glisten as you stare at the man who has your entire heart. And god, you want to tell him how irrevocably in love you are with him, and that’s exactly what you do. You just let it float through the bathroom, completely aware of every single thing that could go wrong, but you can’t hide your feelings for him anymore. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, so you’ll have him. “Joel, I think… I think… I’m in love with you.”

   His eyes soften into molten chocolate, and his smile is absolutely radiant as it curls over his plush lips. “And what would you say if I said I was in love with you, too?”

   “What?” You freeze, thinking you heard that wrong. He loves you? Oh. Oh my…

   “I love you, my sweet little angel. I’ve been in love with you since I saw you across the bar. I jus’ knew you were the one. They always say you know. Didn’t know what they meant until I saw you lookin’ over at me with those beautiful eyes of yours. I knew from that moment you’d be mine.” 

   Your mouth parts open as you suck in a breath, all your guarded walls and insecurities dropping on the spot as you play the words again and again in your head, until you can fully comprehend what he just said to you.

   He’s in love with you. With you! You don’t know how, you don’t know why he did, but you just know you feel it as much as he does. And your skin is absolutely glowing as you grin mesmerizingly up at his brown starry eyes. “You really love me?”

   “Oh, my little angel. Yes, I love you. You take the breath out of me.”

   You map out every fleck of amber in his eyes, every crevice of pure syrupy colors that call your name like a magical siren, and then you’re falling, crashing into his lips until you can only breathe him. There’s no oxygen left, there’s only him and his cinnamon taste that drips off your tongue.

   Your body molds to his, fingers lacing through messy curls, chest flush to his, climbing him like you can’t get close enough, can’t touch his tanned skin enough, can’t be satiated when his tongue is circling yours, marking his taste where you think you need him the most, so it can slip down and wrap around your heart, marking you as his own.

   After a few minutes of heated tension and messy kisses, you untether from each other and just sit there in the warm, bubbly water, just breathing each other’s air like it’s the only oxygen you need. It’s just you and Joel, your own little safe space, a space he carved out just for you.

   He turns you around and brings your back flush to his chest, wrapping a protective arm around your hips while his lips trace the top of your head until you can only close your eyes and breathe him in. Coffee, cinnamon, a fresh forest with chopped firewood. A warm fire, burning just for you. 

   After another half hour Joel helps you out of the tub, wrapping a soft cotton towel around your soaked body. He uses his large hands to help you dry off, taking slow strokes to your skin as the towel dries the water off your skin. He’s so gentle, careful, even delicate with every move he makes, every touch, every breath. He’s just… perfect. 

   “Here, you can wear some of my sweats. And I’ll get you a clean shirt.” 

   “Oh, okay,” you smile. He brushes his lips over your forehead softly before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off to his closet, searching around for clothes that you get to wear. 

   You lean against the bathroom doorway and stare mesmerizingly at this beautiful man, watching him toss a long white t-shirt over his bare shoulder as his hands move hangers out of the way to find his sweats. You laugh at the way he tosses hangers to the side, muttering under his breath that he knows he put them right there. You tilt your head back against the bathroom door, assessing him while he works to find you just what you need.

   Your eyes flit to the center of the room where a large mirror hangs and shades of soft cream fill the walls. You freeze when you see it, jaw dropping as you take in what sits on the edge of his mahogany dresser, right where the sunlight catches from the open window. There, right on the crevice of the dresser is a shiny hardcover Iron Flame book. “You bought Iron Flame?”

   “Mhm,” he smiles, turning toward you with a fresh pair of grey sweats in his hand.

   “But why? I thought…”

   “I bought it because it was the closest thing I could get to havin’ you near me when all I wanted was you in my arms.” 

   You look at him wide-eyed, a small smile curling over your mouth as he comes and stands in front of you, trailing a hand slowly down your jawline. “Joel… you finished Fourth Wing?”

   “Two days after the diner, that’s all I did was read. Finished it in one night because I could smell you on the pages. You smell like freshly printed books on a warm summer’s evening, and it had your scent all over those pages, angel.” His lips brush over yours, just long enough to breathe in his fresh cologne, and you feel as if you’re free falling in thin air, but Joel’s right at the bottom, ready to catch you before you collapse. 

   “Joel… I… I’m speechless. You read because it reminded you of me?” you whisper out.

   “Mhm. That’s right, sweet girl. Jus’ for you.” His fingers lace with yours, lips caressing your knuckles as if he’s drinking you in.

   “I… God, I love you.”

   He lifts his eyes and smiles at you as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. “I love you, too, my beautiful angel…”

   Then his lips are on yours. Soft, gentle, magnetic, electric. And there you go, floating off into a fluffy cloud as his taste and touch send you into a euphoric trance.

   “Are you hungry?” he asks as lets his hands slide from your waist.

   “Mhm.”

   “How ‘bout I cook you come breakfast? But, I have a condition.”

   You raise your eyebrows and playfully smirk at him. “And what’s that?” you giggle.

   “Read to me.” It’s not a question but an ask. He wants you to read to him.

   “You want me to read to you?” Your eyes flick up to his, and those gentle brown eyes are searing into your soul.

   “Yes. Wanna hear that beautiful voice of yours. Read me Iron Flame.”

   You let the words simmer for a few seconds as he slips on a pair of casual jeans and a black t-shirt that clings to his broad chest, making the sculpted muscles flare against his strong build. And his messy curls are still wet and slicked back and so beautiful. This man is more than perfect, he’s yours. Just as you are his.

   “Okay,” you smile, feeling your cheeks blush red as he sends a crooked, adorable smile your way. 

   God, you’re never going to get enough of this man.

   After breakfast, you and Joel end up in his favorite leather recliner. He laces his arms around you and brings you flush against his broad chest, circling his hands with yours as you hold up Iron Flame and quietly read it together. His warm breath blows down the nape of your neck, and you lean into his space, letting the scent of coffee and pine cones envelop the air. You think this is how it always should’ve been, what you’ve been looking for your entire life. It’s Joel. It’s always been Joel. You just had to pave your way through the bad guys to find your knight in shining armor. The one you were always meant to fall in love with.

   “I love you, pretty girl,” he whispers in the shell of your ear, holding you tighter like he never wants to let you go.

   “And I love you too, Joel Miller.”

   “Think these two are endgame?” He’s referring to Violet and Xaden in the book, but you really think he’s talking about you and him.

   “Still got three books to go, but I see it like the ending is right in front of me. They’re so endgame.”

   “Think you’re right, my sweet angel. I think they’re infinite, like you and me.” His lips brush against your forehead, and his fingers lace through yours as you let the next page fall away from your grasp.

   “Infinite, huh?” you whisper.

   “Infinite,” he confirms.

   You tilt your head up and let your lips capture his, saying your feelings as you tug him closer and run your fingers through his thick curls, giggling as he cradles you in his arms and slots his tongue against yours, letting the coffee serenade you with the taste of Joel on your lips.

   You think this is how it should always be, you and him. Right here in his recliner, reading books together, entwined fingers, lips on each other’s as if you both can’t get enough of one another. 

   You were always meant to find him. And he turned out to be your knight in shining armor. And maybe your forever.

   This was just the beginning. You still had a lifetime to go.

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 10

18+ / NSFW!!!! MDNI!!!!!

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~6.7k words

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff! but with tension!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, did I mention tension!?, some alcohol consumption, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

Chapter Content: smut (NSFW c/w below the cut!), kissing, making out, some unwanted advances by an NPC on Y/N!, hannie gets a little jealous

My Masterlist

NSFW Chapter Content: dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (please practice safe sex!), Jeonghan has a corruption kink and a ‘sir’ kink!, scolding/light degradation, edging/orgasm denial, some manhandling w/o establishing ground rules (please communicate before you do any kind of roughhousing in the bedroom ok? these two just happen to like the same thing!), nicknames: sir (for JH), ‘little whore’ (just once for Y/N).

Author’s Note: We’ve reached the final chapter!! I decided to end this series with Y/N and JH’s first time having sex together because I wasn’t rly sure how to end it without literally writing an entire series of novels lol (not that I WOULD’NT!). Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reblogged/liked this series!! It’s my first fanfic series for Seventeen and I had so much fun! I’m working on a school life AU fic featuring Wonwoo and a dystopian AU featuring DK next!! 😊

Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @Illucere @lukeys-giggle

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

You had never been to Paris, but it fit how you’d pictured it almost exactly. The filigreed architecture, the wide, cobble-stoned streets, the elegant storefronts along the Champs Elysée... you were drinking it all in on the car ride to the hotel.

You had your own hotel room, which was more than you had expected. The designer brands had sprung for an entire floor, accommodating single rooms for each member and their staff—an upside of having so many brand ambassadors in one group.

You didn’t exactly have time to settle in, however. Your next event was taking place in the afternoon the following day and you and the other staff still needed to coordinate with each venue’s security on exactly when the members would arrive at their respective events. For you, this meant another car ride to YSL’s offices, where you and other staff would discuss details and procure badges for the runway show and afterparty the next day.

You dropped your bag down on the hotel bed, barely absorbing the luxurious room before you heard a knock at the door.

It was Yoon Jeonghan.

“Nuna,” he said as he waltzed right past you and into your hotel room. You instinctively looked out into the hallway, eyes wide, making Jeonghan laugh as he took off his shoes and sprawled out onto the bed, making himself at home.

“It’s more suspicious when you do that, you know,” he said, and you immediately shut the door and quietly—but urgently—told him to keep his voice down.

“What are you doing here?” you basically whispered, getting closer to where he was lying on the bed.

“You don’t want me to be in here?” The look he gave you was somewhere between a smirk and a pout, but the glint in his eyes made you pretty certain why he was here.

“Jeonghan-shi,” you said politely but firmly.

“Oh, professional mode,” he said—in English, too, just so it was crystal clear that he was making fun of you. You just fixed him with a glare, which unfortunately only made his grin wider.

“I have to go to the YSL office with the other staff soon, so I don’t have time to entertain you right now.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just watch you get ready.” The look on his face seemed to challenge you to kick him out as he laid back on the bed, fully spectating now.

“Okay, fine,” you said, deciding to call his bluff and quickly unzipping your bag, taking out your makeup and other supplies to freshen up a bit before you had to leave. Does he actually just want to be in here with me? You wondered, finding the idea hard to believe. Jeonghan could be doing a million things right now—it wasn’t often that he got to relax away from the commotion of the other members and their constant schedules. You knew he had tonight off, and that he could at least get dinner with Joshua or Mingyu... but he was in here, in your room, instead—watching you carefully as you sat at the sleek, modern-style vanity table in the corner of the room combing out your airplane hair with your fingers.

“Nuna, you didn’t bring a hairbrush?” he asked, sounding almost like a little kid.

“No, I forgot it,” you said, slightly embarrassed at even this extremely minor error. You’d moved on to gently patting your face with oil blotting paper as you saw Jeonghan walking out of the room.

“You can use mine; I’ll be right back.” It was a pretty innocuous thing, just lending you his hairbrush... But something about the way he’d said it... so casually, the way that a boyfriend would talk to you, made your heart leap a little bit.

Sure enough he returned with a hairbrush, but rather than handing it to you, he came up behind where you were seated in front of the small mirror and started gently brushing out your hair for you, making you tense up at first, but gradually relaxing under his touch.

Wow, you thought, unsure of the last time someone had brushed your hair for you... You honestly couldn’t even remember if your mom brushed your hair as a child. This feels nice.

You closed your eyes before even realizing it, the sensation of Jeonghan softly brushing out your hair was so relaxing. Jeonghan glanced at your face in the reflection of the vanity mirror, his heart squeezing inexplicably at your clearly exhausted expression. After a minute, he stopped brushing, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of your head.

Your eyes flung open at the feeling of his sweet kiss, and you whirled around awkwardly, eliciting a laugh from him.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” he teased in a low voice, “but you looked like all you want to do is sleep just now.”

The thought of staying here, ordering room service, and having Jeonghan’s fingers gently run through your hair, lulling you to sleep... to be honest, nothing sounded more appealing. But you couldn’t abandon your responsibilities, no matter how tempting it was.

By some stroke of genius (or insanity) your hand reached up to Jeonghan’s face, cupping the side of his cheek before gently running over your thumb over the cute mole under his eye. You were struck by how good his skin looked, even right after a long flight. It was so soft... He smiled at the touch, nuzzling into your hand slightly before you stood up and whispered to him.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t go,” he answered in a low voice immediately, shooting some kind of electric charge right through your body. He’d told you not to go on the plane, too.

I don’t want to go.

You were both standing close together now, his eyes trailing down your face, then down your neck, all the way down your body it seemed. You wanted so badly to pull him into an eager, hungry kiss, but you felt that if you started you wouldn’t be able to stop...

But a rap at your door cut the tension immediately, making the pit of your stomach drop.

“Y/N-shi,” it was the sound of Jeonghan’s manager’s voice. “Are you ready? We’re going to head downstairs.”

“I’ll be right down, thank you!” you said quickly.

You bolted to your bag, pulling out a blazer to throw over your t-shirt and jeans from the flight.

“You’re so jumpy,” Jeonghan pouted, having been on the verge of kissing you—actually, more like devouring you. The truth was you were driving him insane. That worried but determined look in your eye, the gentle waves in your hair after he’d brushed it—you looked like a princess. Something powerful inside him wanted to...

Wanted to what exactly? This feeling he had looking at you—bleary-eyed from the plane, but somehow still gorgeous—it wasn’t violent... but it was intense.

Like he wanted to... corrupt you.

He realized he’d never felt this kind of urge before. But he wanted to see your pretty, innocent face blush dark red while he did filthy things to you. Things that you may have even done before... he couldn’t say because he didn’t know that much about your past experiences in the bedroom, really, and honestly he didn’t care. Your whole aura exuded innocence to him, and he knew it might be wrong but truthfully... it drove him up the wall.

You didn’t really pick up on this, though, now having been thrown back into reality—where your professional responsibilities laid in wait for you. You quickly rummaged through your things in your carry-on, desperate to find where your folder of schedules and contracts was buried.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Jeonghan said, unable to ignore your frantic rush out the door and trying to bring you back to him with his soothing voice. You were so affected by your work. You cared a lot. It was plain to see how big your heart was.

Jeonghan knew he was being selfish. He knew that you were making the choice to go out the door right now, and that your job came first... but he’d been finding it more and more difficult to resist getting close to you, teasing you, touching you...

“Will I see you later?” You turned to Jeonghan before leaving, trying to ignore his blatantly hungry stare.

“Mmhm,” he hummed sweetly right away, his eyes almost boring through you. His gaze was so intent, so tempting that all you could do was immediately slam the door behind you, practically running to the lobby.

***

The meeting with YSL was briefer than you thought it would be. It turns out, their team really just wanted to get drinks. They asked you and the other staff to go out with them, and you could hardly refuse.

“We can discuss business over some wine, yes?” The tall gentleman in the impeccably-cut suit said to you—he was apparently a production director who worked with a lot of brands during Fashion Week. You didn’t like the way he had guided you by the small of your back into the dimly lit bar, but you brushed it off as him just being friendly.

You were honestly too exhausted for drinks and wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel, your chest still fluttering after the way Jeonghan had looked at you before you’d left.

“Where did you learn French?” the tall man asked you. You were now seated around a low table on red, velvety booths at the back of the chic bar. “It sounds like you’ve been speaking for a long time.” You were flattered that he was complimenting you—sincerely, too, by actually speaking to you in French instead of English. A seal of approval, you had learned.

“Oh, I kind of learn languages as a hobby,” you said.

“Y/N-shi is our language ace,” one of your coworkers said.

“That’s a good asset to have, indeed,” the man said, “I’ve never met someone who does something so laborious for fun.” He was kind of sprawled out on the bench, right next to you. He had his arm draped casually along the back of the seat behind you, which wouldn’t have bothered you if he hadn’t also been looking at you up and down... This guy felt sleazy. And you were pretty sure that he was trying to neg you with that ‘laborious’ comment.

“Yeah, I’m very into boring activities,” you said sarcastically in French, and then repeated it to your coworker in Korean, who mercifully laughed, hopefully picking up that you wanted her to stick around in the conversation so you wouldn’t be cornered by this guy.

“You don’t seem to have time to get bored with how hard you work,” the guy said, “Live a little.” He was changing his strategy. He had turned fully toward you now, the first two buttons of his shirt coming undone under his blazer. His cologne smelled overwhelming. You didn’t like the grin he flashed you with the words ‘live a little.’ His whole aura made your stomach turn. Your mind flashed to the smell of Jeonghan’s perfume. Much more subtle and beautiful...

“That’s true,” you said stiffly, before deciding that you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. “I’m so sorry, but I am actually starting to get a headache—” you tried to politely extract yourself from the conversation, standing up as you made your excuse, but the man suddenly grabbed hold of your wrist.

“Oh, don’t go just yet,” he said, obviously trying to keep his tone lighthearted, “the night is young!”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, adamant about keeping things professional, although now you’d put it together that this whole meeting was probably an excuse to go out and hit on the women in your team all along, “It’s been a long day, I’m going to go back to the hotel.” Your tone was firm enough to leave no room for interpretation, but you turned to your other colleague, indicating with your eyes that you needed help getting this guy off of you. Thankfully, she picked up on it.

“Yes, Y/N-shi,” she said quickly in her broken but polite French, “I saw you didn’t sleep much on the plane—go get some rest!” You couldn’t have been more grateful that she said that. The guy’s grip loosened on you, and you took the opportunity to quickly leave—not even looking behind you or saying goodbye to the others.

It’s not like similar things had never happened before. Working in this industry, especially on the production side of things, you met all kinds of sleazy guys like that. You were just glad that he hadn’t been drunk enough to make a scene.

But still, you felt agitated now.

Who does he think he is grabbing a total stranger like that, angry, indignant feelings swirled through you in the cab back to the hotel, and we’re supposed to work together this week...

Your mood hung heavy over you as you finally returned, opening the door of your hotel room with a click, relieved to at least be back in your own space.

But the space wasn’t entirely your own, it seemed. You entered to find Jeonghan, dozing off on your bed.

He looked just as angelic as he had sleeping on the plane. You quietly took off your shoes and shrugged off your blazer. Normally, you’d be panicked about him still being in here... in your bed, no less. For a split second you considered calling the front desk to send you a roll-away bed. That’s something hotels do, right? But even your inner rule-follower seemed to scoff at how absurd the idea was. Who am I kidding? Honestly, you were too tired to even fight with yourself. Of course you were going to crawl right into bed next to Yoon Jeonghan. Of course you had imagined moments like this for months—though, not exactly under these circumstances.

You quietly got your things from your bag, changing and getting ready for bed as silently as possible in the bathroom.

But Jeonghan’s eyes had fluttered open when you returned.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice coming out so sweet and sleepy it made your heart ache a bit.

“Ah, did I wake you up?” you asked softly.

“No, no,” he said in a quick and reassuring voice. You liked how he did that when it was clear someone was worried. You could clearly see he didn’t want the people around him to overthink things and get stressed out, so he was always quick to reassure them. Including you.

“Come here,” he said, motioning for you to lay in his arms. Your heart pounded, more self-conscious now that he was awake. But you crawled into bed next to him, despite feeling like you might turn to dust right then and there.

“How was your meeting?” he asked softly as you nestled into his chest, his arms wrapping around you sweetly, one hand smoothing down your hair... You could almost cry it felt so sweet and nurturing when he did that.

“Oh, it was—” you weren’t sure what to say. It wasn’t really a meeting, more like an odd excuse to go out and hit on the female staff...

But Jeonghan picked up on a shift in your tone right away.

“Did something happen?” He asked, gently brushing your hair away from your face, tucking it sweetly behind your ear. He was so close to you. This was the closest you had been since he’d come to your apartment that night. You didn’t want to talk about some sleazy guy on the production staff, you just wanted to fall asleep in Jeonghan’s arms, his hand petting you sweetly until you both drifted off... But Jeonghan’s curiosity was piqued even more by your pause.

“It’s nothing,” you sighed, “Just some French asshole.” Jeonghan’s hand stopped mid-brush along your hair.

“Who? What asshole?” his voice was still low and quiet, but he propped himself up a bit on his elbow to look directly at you.

“This guy who works on these runway shows,” you said, “He was just... he didn’t seem to be very professional.”

“What does that mean?”

Whoa, he’s worried, you realized.

“It’s nothing, Jeonghan,” you said, taking Jeonghan’s face between your hands, suddenly feeling anxious at his reaction, “they took us out to drinks, which I think was the point of the meeting all along, and he was just clearly only interested in flirting with the women there.”

“With the women there, or with you?”

“...What’s wrong?” It was strange for you to see Jeonghan react this way. You hadn’t seen him this amped up before, though he was still speaking at a low volume. You didn’t expect it—he always seemed so unflappable. He seemed to snap out of it at your question, though, quickly turning away from you. You could tell that he was embarrassed.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said after a moment, his immaturity dawning on him, making him feel ashamed that he had reacted so hastily. The thought of other men hitting on someone he was seeing usually didn’t bother him... But the thought of someone else putting you in a position like that made him kind of furious. He faced you again, his stomach sinking at the look on your face—desperate and exhausted.

“Sorry,” he repeated, his tone calmer and sweeter, apologetically brushing your cheek, “I just don’t like that some idiot was making you uncomfortable.”

Your pulse raced. You had to admit... he seemed to feel bad about it, but it felt kind of nice to see him get protective like that...

“Let’s forget about him,” you said softly. It was like the words fell straight onto Jeonghan’s heart, making it flip over. He gazed at you; his eyes unable to hide how badly he wanted you. He pulled you closer, embracing you under the covers now. The tightening grip of his arms around your waist filling you with butterflies. It felt good to be held by him. You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest, making him want to squeeze you even closer, you were being so cute.

You felt Jeonghan’s hand take a gentle hold of your head, tilting it up toward him, and before you could think, he was kissing you. His lips felt so soft... but the way he was sweetly teasing your lips made some deep urge within you come to life.

You leaned into his kiss, pressing into him with a little more eagerness. He noticed, taking the cue to deepen the kiss, gripping your head in both of his hands now as you two laid there, making out in the hotel bed.

It wasn’t long until you were whimpering quietly against his lips. He traced your bottom lip with his tongue before pulling away slightly... Hovering over you now, your eyes meeting to exchange a brief, craving look before he smoothly hooked his thumb into your mouth, forcing it open, and dove in again, kissing you much more aggressively.

Jeonghan’s tongue invaded your mouth and you couldn’t help moaning sweetly into him, the vibration making his body heat up even more. You looked so beautiful and desperate... He wanted nothing more than to tear your clothes off and fuck you right away—make you pant, beg, scream... But he knew it would be better to take his time.

Not that you couldn’t tell how hungry he was for you—the pleading feeling of his tongue, the way his hands were starting to roam over you. It occurred to you that Jeonghan had wanted to do this with you for a long time.

As he kissed you, your mind began to melt—falling further and further into the realm of total surrender.

Jeonghan could feel your body relaxing beneath him. Not to mention the way you were openly and greedily responding to his kisses.

She likes this.

You felt his fingertips slip underneath your pajama top; his hand cool against your skin as it slid up your bare stomach. You wrapped your arms around his neck, not discouraging him. His other hand was still holding your face firmly beneath his as he continued to feverishly make out with you. You could hear the soft, lapping noises of your kissing echoing through the room...

Suddenly you let out a yelp—louder than you’d intended—when you felt his hand ghost over your breast, his thumb brushing lightly against your already-pert nipple through the fabric of your cute, lacey bralette.

You felt Jeonghan smile against your lips, satisfied at your reaction.

“Mm, Y/N-ah you’re going to get us in trouble if you’re that loud,” he murmured in your ear, teasing you before trailing more kisses down your neck—making you gasp softly at the feeling of his silky, wet lips; reflexively gripping his shoulders.

He was making his way down your body, and you knew that if he went any further you might not be able to handle it... but with all of the pleasure coursing through you, gathering in the pit of your stomach, making your legs start to squirm... you didn’t want him to stop.

Jeonghan nipped at your collarbone, making you draw your breath in sharply before he continued to kiss you over your top—the space between your breasts, your abdomen, just below your belly button... You could feel your breathing getting more ragged the lower his face got.

His lips arrived at the space between the waistband of your pajama shorts and the raised hem of your top—his hand was still up your shirt, holding onto the sensitive spot along the bottom hem of your bra on one side. He looked up at you. His expression made it feel like he was challenging you, but you knew he was waiting for permission to go further. You had no idea what kind of face you were making... you felt like you could scream, your body felt so overwhelmed already.

In an attempt to control your volume, you bit into your own hand before glancing down at Jeonghan with your best “please continue” look.

He honestly didn’t care what kind of look you gave him; all he knew was the way you were desperately biting your own hand was hot enough for him to throw caution to the wind and discard your top for you. He pulled it over your arms and flung it aside in one fluid motion before returning to the space between your belly button and the waist of your shorts... kissing the sensitive spot sweetly while hooking his fingers underneath the band and pulling your shorts down to reveal your absolutely soaked underwear.

“Ah, who knew Y/N-ah was such a dirty girl,” he pretending to chide you in a low, commanding tone. Your stomach lurched at his words as your legs instinctively tried to snap together, your hand flying down from your mouth to try to cover yourself from his up-close view. But Jeonghan caught you by the wrist, forcing your hand to the side and holding it in place against the bed. He was surprisingly strong, and the decisive way he averted your attempt to cover yourself... did something to you.

You wouldn’t say that you were the kinkiest person out there... not by a long shot. But you couldn’t pretend you didn’t like being dominated a little. Especially by Yoon Jeonghan.

“No hiding,” Jeonghan’s command sent an electric shot right through you with his direct gaze and scolding tone.

“Yes, sir,” you said before thinking. There was a pause as you realized what you’d just called him, your hand writhing under Jeonghan’s grip in a futile attempt to cover your face out of embarrassment. Since when did you call people ‘sir!?’ Had you ever said that to someone!? Your eyes were wide and your face hot with disbelief, completely mortified.

You peeked down at Jeonghan, worried that he’d be weirded out by you calling him that out of nowhere, but he didn’t look weirded out at all...

If anything, he looked feral.

“Good girl,” he hummed, his smirk making it apparent just how turned on he was. It wasn’t just that you had called him ‘sir,’ but your cute, flustered reaction made him want to push your buttons even further. He kept his gaze directed at you as he placed his head between your legs again, watching as you averted your eyes—too overwhelmed to watch as he kissed the sweet wet spot that had formed on your underwear. So fucking cute, he couldn’t help thinking, enjoying this rare opportunity to see you so helpless. His lips started teasing you, planting wet kisses against your folds, with only the drenched fabric of your underwear standing between your bare cunt and his mouth. The embarrassment of him being so up close made your whole body flare up. Your legs were trembling with anticipation as you felt Jeonghan’s mouth moving before sucking lightly on your clit—making you moan, your back arching from the effort of trying not to be too loud or squirm too much.

Jeonghan was grinning against your underwear now. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. She can’t stand it. Your squirming, whimpering voice was too sexy. He wished he could watch you all hot and bothered like this forever, edging you until you cried.

He finally let go of your wrist, sitting back on his heels and making sultry eye contact with you before removing your underwear.

“Ah, I knew it,” he said softly, “nuna’s pussy is perfect.”

You couldn’t help turning your face to the side. You were so wound up that you didn’t know how to even react, like your mind wasn’t even aware of what your body was doing.

You felt Jeonghan shift his position slightly, threading his arms beneath your knees now so that your thighs were resting on his shoulders and he could grip your waist with his hands. Your face snapped toward him, something like fear rushing through you at the realization that he could see all of you up close now. He noticed the look of panic in your eyes and kissed the inside of your thigh sweetly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a velvety, whispered tone. He bent his head down and kissed the space just above your clit softly.

You threw your head back, biting your lip to contain the filthy sounds that were threatening to burst out of you as he began to lick and kiss your folds. His earlier kisses were delicious, but his mouth working delicately at your soaking wet cunt felt unreal.

“Mmm,” he moaned into you, the vibration stimulating you so harshly and suddenly that your hand flew down to his hair, taking the soft strands into your grip before you could even control yourself. But this only made him go harder at devouring you... He held you down by the hips, your legs shaking with ecstasy.

“Ah, Jeonghan-ah...” you moaned his name, making him murmur in satisfaction against your pussy, loving the sensation of you tugging his hair as his tongue dove in and out of you. He moved his head slightly, taking your clit between his lips and sucking on you. This threw you into a full-bodied convulsion. He wished you could just scream out the way you clearly wanted to... 

“Ah, I’m gonna come—” you breathed, certain that if he continued to fuck you with his tongue like this, you would surely get his face covered in your juices. The thought of it made you desperate to get him off of you and eager for him to keep going at the same time.

“Mmm, I can feel you tighten around my tongue when I put it in,” he mused against you, making you laugh nervously, caught off guard by such a specific and perverted comment. He took the opportunity to eat you even more vigorously, his tongue lapping up your juices as your clit twitched out of control...

You were about to succumb to a powerful orgasm, when suddenly the sensation of Jeonghan’s tongue disappeared.

You jerked your head up in confusion, only to see that Jeonghan was now standing at the end of the bed, giving you an incredulous look as he started casually removing his shirt.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, feigning innocence, “I thought you knew that if you want to come, you have to ask nicely.”

Your breathing was heavy, making your chest rise and fall dramatically as you narrowed your eyes at him. He just smirked, his lips and chin still glistening with your arousal. His taunting look turned you on way more than you wanted to admit. You gulped in air, trying to catch your breath. Jeonghan was down to just his underwear now, and you could see the burgeoning outline of his cock pressing against the black fabric of his briefs.

Alright, if you want to play that game...

You sat up, softening your face but still holding Jeonghan’s cruel gaze. You made your way to all fours on the bed before him and looked up, attempting your best coquettish face.

“Please, sir,” you said in a poutier tone than you normally used, batting your eyelashes and everything. “Please let me come.”

Jeonghan’s face almost cracked into a full-blown smile, making you feel smug for calling his bluff. Honestly, he didn’t think he could stand it either if that’s how you were going to be. The erotically pure sound of your voice, the angle of your sweet eyes gazing up at him, your begging tone... He didn’t think he could get any harder looking at you but somehow you’d provoked him even more.

He took your jaw roughly in his hand, jerking your face up further to meet his wolfish gaze.

“Better,” he said, “but not quite nice enough.” He enjoyed the flash of panic in your eyes almost as much as the glare that followed. Letting go of his grip on your face, he bent down to unhook your bra. His face was closer to yours now, and you could tell that he was reaching his limit, too.

“Sir, could I please make you feel good then?” you asked, your voice soft and syrupy sweet.

Jesus, Jeonghan thought, chuckling now at how outrageously turned on and amused he was by you toying with him like this.

He removed your bra, exposing your cute boobs. You sat up, suddenly nervous again and attempting to cover yourself from being totally naked in front of Jeonghan like this. Your abdomen was aching with want, your pussy still dripping from him going down on you... But his voice brought right back to the task at hand.

“What did I say about hiding?” he snapped at you, and you hurriedly lowered yourself back down to all fours, giving him an exaggerated, apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you said, “please, let me make you feel good.”

“Oh? And how are you going to do that?” he asked, his tone mocking.

“Could I suck your cock?” you quirked your head cutely to the side, puffing out your lower lip and hoping that this would be enough to please him.

“What do you say?” he asked, but he was grinning—already palming his hard length, clearly enjoying this...

“Pretty please?” you smiled sweetly, and Jeonghan almost groaned he was so overwhelmed with how sexy and cute you were being. How could he have known that you would turn into this perfect, provocative sex kitten for him? How did he get so lucky?

“Good girl,” he said and he let his stiff length spring from his briefs as they fell to the floor. You couldn’t help letting a small gasp escape your lips. You should have expected his cock to be just as pretty as the rest of him, but this man had the most beautiful dick you’d ever seen. You looked up at him again, smiling gently, before taking his tip into your mouth, teasing his slit a little with your tongue. Jeonghan let his head fall back, the feeling of your mouth on him making him groan in pleasure.

You gradually worked his cock further and further into your mouth, swirling your tongue in slow, sensuous circles around his girth before getting into a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his length. He looked down at you, gritting his teeth from the stimulation you were giving him. You were talented at this. You probably wouldn’t say so, but Jeonghan could tell; your obliviousness to how sexy you were just making him desire you more.

He took a fistful of your hair in his grip, gently helping to push his cock into your throat. You made a slight gagging noise, but didn’t show any sign of stopping—instead grabbing onto his thighs to support yourself as you picked up the pace.

Jeonghan was moaning, but conscious of not getting too loud. He sounds so good, you thought as you sucked your cheeks in, maximizing the pressure on his cock. You held onto him tightly, sure from his grip on you that he was getting close to coming.

But before you could finish him off, he pulled you away from his dick by your hair, your mouth releasing from him with a pop as his grip forced your face roughly upward  to look straight into his ravenous eyes.

“You little whore.” His voice might have been low and seductive, but there was a bemused smirk on his face as he called you the degrading nickname. You couldn’t help smiling a little, too, feeling cocky at him lashing out like that—clearly you’d almost made him come before he wanted to.

But you couldn’t say he looked mad. He was grinning softly, still holding you roughly by your hair as both of you panted, challenging each other with the respective gleams in your eyes, held upright only by the tension of the other’s grip.

After a moment of catching your breath, Jeonghan closed the gap between you with another deep, gluttonous kiss. His arms wrapped around you and you felt his hard cock—wet now with his precum and your spit—press into your lower abdomen from his standing position as you held onto him, still on your knees atop the bedspread.

Jeonghan guided you backward onto the bed with his body, crawling on top of you as he pushed his tongue further into your mouth. You could faintly taste your own come still left on his lips. He raised your arms above your head, holding you down by your wrists and making you squirm beneath him. He left hungry, heavy kisses along your jaw, your neck, moving down to your chest... You mewled with pleasure at the feeling of his tongue capturing one of your nipples, lathing over the hard bud and making you jolt.

“Y/N-ah’s nipples are so cute,” he said, suddenly shifting back to his regular speaking tone, making you laugh at his random sweet commentary. But you weren’t distracted for long before he was sucking on your other nipple, still pinning you down by the wrists to ensure you wouldn’t to put a stop to his teasing.

“Ah, Jeonghan...” you panted his name, and he turned to look at you again. He was so beautiful. You couldn’t believe that this beautiful man was ravishing you like this...

“Nuna, I can’t be patient anymore,” he said in your ear, and you felt his hard length slide against you... You simply answered his implied question by reaching your neck forward to kiss him again, softly this time.

“Please let me come this time, sir,” you whispered, smiling at him. Jeonghan returned your sly smile, adjusting his body ever so slightly before effortlessly gliding his hard cock into you.

You let out a high-pitched sigh at the luxurious stretch his cock gave you, his thick length seeming to barely fit between your walls. It had been a while since you’d done this, really—you were just thankful that he’d gotten you so wet already. It didn’t hurt at all, but you felt a delicious tension at the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Ah, fuck, Y/N,” he breathed in your ear, his hands pressing down firmly on your wrists as his head dropped to your shoulder. You were so tight; he was sure if he moved at all he’d come right away—and he didn’t want to do that just yet. It wasn’t nearly enough time inside of you. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t masturbated a few times while imagining this exact moment, but of course the real thing was beyond compare...

You started to lose it, the way that Jeonghan wasn’t moving—just kissing you languidly, letting go of your wrists in favor of holding you by the waist.

“Jeonghan—” you whimpered his name, unable to even form a full sentence you wanted him to start fucking you so badly. Jeonghan glanced down at you, giving you one more kiss before he started to thrust his hips into you.

His cock slid in and out of you so easily, the delicious rhythm of stretching you and then releasing the tension and then stretching you again making you moan, and even you weren’t sure if you could keep the volume down.

Jeonghan watched your beautiful face twist into an expression he’d never seen from you—completely ecstatic. He loved that you smiled while he was inside you, feeling your whole body respond to his made him feel in danger of losing control.

He picked up the pace, holding you in place with one hand on your waist and the other hooked underneath your knee, pulling it up higher to get an even deeper angle into you. You felt his cock hit your most sensitive spot repeatedly, covering your mouth again to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure.

“Uh-uh,” Jeonghan quickly pulled your hand away from your mouth, “you don’t get to cover your mouth, Y/N.” You pressed your lips firmly together, practically biting your tongue now. Jeonghan had sat up on his knees, holding you by the hips as he slammed his cock into you repeatedly, his pace getting brutal now.

“Jeonghan!” you couldn’t help letting out a yelp of his name as your orgasm finally hit you in full force, making your legs tremble against Jeonghan, your arousal dripping down his cock—still beating into you steadily. Your face was flushed and there were tiny tears pricking at the edges of your eyes, which was all Jeonghan needed to be sent over the edge, as well. He felt the coil inside him snap and quickly removed himself from you, coming instead all over your bare stomach and tits.

You felt the hot sensation of his come on you, both of you breathing heavily... You looked up at him to see him already looking at you, panting, completely fucked out. He drew his breath in sharply, and you both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

You covered your face in embarrassment, suddenly internalizing what just happened, your exhaustion mixed with the joy of having finally done it with Jeonghan making you delirious.

“Stay there, nuna,” Jeonghan said sweetly before scampering off to the bathroom, returning with a towel and carefully cleaning you up. He was back to making cute and silly noises as he touched you, any trace of the man who just fucked you had gone now, replaced with your usual adorable Jeonghan. He finished cleaning you and himself up, and jumped right into bed, curling up next to you like a baby.

You couldn’t stop giggling; you were so excited and nervous—you were sure that at least someone on this floor heard the two of you... these old fashioned hotels didn’t exactly have sound-proof walls. But even you were fine with leaving that to be tomorrow’s problem.

Jeonghan watched you, overjoyed that you seemed so giddy.

“Ah, nuna’s smile is the best,” he said, nuzzling your nose with his.

“Hannie’s smile is the best,” you said, melting his heart with the nickname.

Jeonghan’s arms wrapped around you and you cuddled your face into his silky hair,  unable to stop smiling even after you drifted off to sleep.

[etherealxwitch]

All Night Long

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Your period cramps are horrible but Eddie knows just how to fix them.

Warnings: vamp!eddie, period sex, blood kink, oral (m and f receiving), mocking, begging, praise kink, fingering, biting, choking, spanking, hair pulling, pet names, name calling, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, creampie, little aftercare

WC: 4.4K

(first time ever writing vamp!eddie and period sex, please enjoy it!)

Remember to reblog and support the author!

You and Eddie were on the couch, and while he was comfortably watching the old movie on the television, you were stirring in your seat.

You could feel it the moment it started, the small shock of cramps making you cringe. Out of all the times to start your period, why now when you were with your boyfriend? 

Eddie noticed you stirring, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “Something bothering you, sweetheart?” 

He knew exactly what was happening, and could smell it before you came into the trailer. It made his mind race with thoughts of what was coming tonight. You were always extra needy while on your period, and his newfound stamina was exactly what you needed. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” You crossed your arms over your chest with a huff.

“Oh, c’mon,” Eddie scooted closer to you, his face pressed into the nape of your neck. “You smell delicious–you know that? I’ve been so fucking painfully hard since I first smelled you.”

Sure enough, when your eyes trailed down his body is when you noticed it. The bulge in his jeans was so prominent now that he pointed it out. You could see it twitch, and you couldn’t try to hide the pace at which your head sped up. There was no hiding it from him.

“Eddie…” Your voice trailed off as another cramp hit you, and he knew exactly what to do.

His lips were rough against your neck as he kissed the soft skin. Razor-sharp teeth grazed your skin just enough to have your eyes squeezing shut from the pleasurable pain.

“Let me take your pain away,” his ringed hand trailed up your legs between your thighs, cupping your already-soaked cunt through your pants. “I can hear, and smell, just how bad you want it.”

You turned to look at him, pleading with your eyes as your hips bucked up into his hand. “Please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was throwing you over his shoulders, his newfound strength making it easier to manhandle you just how you wanted. 

Your back fell on his bed, his many pillows engulfing your body. 

“You look so good,” Eddie popped the button of your jeans, his lips kissing along your waist. “Good enough to eat.”

His words made your legs spread instantly, giving him the perfect amount of room to slot his body between them. 

“Eddie, I don’t have the patience for this.” 

“Shhh, I wanna take my time with you.” He looked up at you, his eyes boring into yours sent a chill down your spine.

This was your first time with Eddie since he came back as… this. You were scared and horny all at once. Eddie could never hurt you, but the thought that he maybe could? It was making you bite your lip in anticipation. 

Eddie knew what you were thinking, a smirk plastered on his pale face. “You love a little pain, I know you do.” 

The second your jeans and panties were off, Eddie’s nose was nuzzling against your inner thigh. He was inhaling you, moaning at the smell.

“Shouldn’t we put a towel down, just in case?” You knew how messy period sex can get. This wouldn’t be the first time doing that with Eddie.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie crawled up the bed until his forehead rested against yours and his skilled fingers traveled up your opened legs. “A little blood won’t hurt anything.”

Your thighs shook when Eddie barely ghosted a finger over your swollen clit. 

That was one of the things he loved most when you were on your period. You are so sensitive that the slightest touch had you putty in his hands. He could breathe on you, and the hair on your body would rise, and your skin would start to glisten with sweat. Eddie, undoubtedly, used your over-sensitivity to his advantage. 

“Look at you, baby,” he pressed a kiss to your neck as he added pressure to your clit. You couldn’t help but whine at the contact. “You’re so needy.”

“For you?” You gasped when he added more pressure, rubbing slow but harsh circles. “Y-yes.”

You felt the air of his breath hit your skin when he let out a chuckle. “Yeah? Is that so?”

Eddie slid a finger down your slit, teasing the aching hole of your cunt. “Why don’t you tell me how needy you are? I wanna hear you say it, beg for me.”

You put your soft hand over his rough one, helping him slide a finger in. Your breath hitched at the feeling of something being in you, helping the ache go away just a little. “Mmm, thought you could smell just how bad?” 

Using his free hand, he gripped your cheeks,  making you turn toward his face. “I do, but I wanna hear you fucking say it.” He gripped harder on your cheeks, your lips now puckering out. 

“Eddie… please.” Your voice was muffled, your eyes locking with his. “I need you- anything. Just make me cum.”

He let go of your cheeks, using one hand to spread your thighs further apart, the other sliding more fingers into you. “Now, that wasn’t too hard.” 

You clenched around his fingers, feeling your wetness and blood soak them. Your head rolled to the side, giving Eddie more area to bite and kiss at your neck. 

Your thighs became a pretty, red mess from squeezing them together as his fingers kept fucking into you. 

“I wonder just how much you can take,” his fingers curling up and making you whine. “I wanna see how long you can last before you’re crying and tapping out.” 

You gripped at the sheets below you, already so close to the first orgasm of the night. “I-I can do it, I promise.” 

The squelch of Eddie’s fingers pumping in and out of you fast echoed off the thin walls of his bedroom. They were almost as loud as your whimpers.

“Always so willing to please me.” Eddie bit harshly at your neck, his teeth barely cutting into your skin.

“Fuck-”

“It's one of the things I love most about you.” You could feel Eddie smirk against your neck, licking up the blood from the bite.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip before biting. Your mouths melted together, tongues dancing around each other. You moaned into the kiss, Eddie swallowing it down whole as if he could keep your sounds playing on repeat forever. 

You could feel your orgasm fast approaching. Eddie wasn’t letting up, making sure he was hitting that soft spot inside you with each pump of his fingers. 

“You gonna cum for me already, sweetheart?” His tone was mocking. 

“Yes, yes!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your legs shaking against the bed. 

Eddie picked up the pace, fucking with his fingers so fast that your body shook. His thumb continued to rub circles on yours, adding more and more pressure with each swipe. 

“Do it.” His voice lowered now that you were closer. “Fucking cum on my fingers.” 

Your chest heaved as you gushed over Eddie’s fingers, soaking them and the sheets below you. 

“Oh-oh!” Your mind only focuses on the feeling, finding it hard to form full words. It felt so good to cum, to ease the pain of your cramps. 

“That’s a good girl.” Eddie continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, letting you ride it out until you could catch your breath. “You take my fingers so well.”

When you finally opened your eyes back up, you saw Eddie’s fingers in his mouth. He was licking them clean, collecting every drop so nothing would go to waste. 

He hummed at the taste of the metallic blood mixed with your cum, something he could now never get enough of. 

“That little taste isn’t going to do.” He moved from the bed, dropping to his knees at the end of it. “I need more.” 

“Already?” You had barely come down from your first orgasm. He really wasn’t going to let up tonight. 

Eddie gripped your ankles, squeezing hard enough that you felt his cold rings press into your skin. “Yes, already.”

In a swift moment, Eddie had pulled your body down the bed, your legs dangling over his broad shoulders. His face was right next to your cunt, looking like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in years. 

“You’re perfect,” he spread the lips of your cunt slowly with his thumbs, examining every part of it. “I’ve been needing this,” his voice muffled as he stuck his tongue out to swipe at your clit. 

Almost immediately, your hands flew to his unruly hair. You tangled your fingers in it, growing impatient and pulling his face closer to you. 

“Don’t be a tease, not now.” You were starting to ache with need again, and he knew it.

Eddie bit the inside of your thigh multiple times, leaving marks for you and him to admire later. “What’s the rush? I need to savor this moment.”

And savoring the moment he was. He was taking his time, looking between you, your shirt bunched up above your tits, and your perfect cunt. Eddie got lucky when you agreed to be his and took every chance he could to just sit back and stare at you.

You bucked your hips up toward his face, egging him on to do something. “Please.” 

Without any warning, Eddie sucked your aching clit into his mouth. He gripped your thighs with his hands, squeezing them while moving his head side to side, pulling your clit with him. 

“Fuck- yes, Eddie!” You ground your cunt on his face, his tongue swiping back and forth, from your clit to your hole. 

“Taste so fucking good.” Eddie moaned against you, sending the shock of vibrations through your body. You shuddered at the feeling and he chuckled against you. 

You pulled his hair, causing him to moan, but not before sliding his tongue inside your cunt. He swirled it around, his pointed and perfectly shaped nose nudging at your clit at the same time. 

“Holy-“ You threw your head back against the pillows, the pleasure you were feeling taking over your whole body. “Right fucking there!” 

You clenched around his tongue, feeling not only your blood but your wetness drip down the crack of your ass, making an even bigger mess than before. 

“Mmmm,” Eddie pushed his face deeper into your cunt, if that were even possible.

He pulled his tongue out and went back to sucking your clit. The slurping sounds echoing in your ears. His skilled fingers went back to work in your cunt. Sliding one, two, three fingers inside you and curling them right against your g-spot. 

You let out a high-pitched scream of Eddie’s name as your second orgasm came out of nowhere. Squirting over his face and fingers, coating everything. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

He pulled away long enough to watch as your body shook as you came. Watching you come undone was having his cock twitch in his pants, he could feel the precum make a spot in his boxers. “That’s fucking right, scream my name.”

Eddie wasn’t stopping at all, your clit still nestled in his warm mouth, and his fingers fucking into you so hard that all you saw was white before you came again, fully soaking everything below you. 

“Look at you,” he gently kissed over the bite marks on your thighs, soothing you. “So cute when you’re all fucked out from just my mouth and fingers.”

When he pulled away and you looked down at him, you noticed your crimson blood covering the lower half of his face. He used his hand to wipe the mess you made, popping it in his mouth. 

Eddie would never get enough of your taste. If he could taste you forever, he would. 

“Holy shit,” you weakly sat up on your elbows, giving him a beaming smile. Your body felt amazing, and he wasn’t even done with you yet. 

When Eddie stood up from the floor, his cock was eye level with you. Your mouth suddenly watered with a need to be filled. You needed to have his cock down your throat, to make you gag, and cry. 

Eddie watched as you got on your knees this time, crawling until you were sitting on the floor in front of him. 

“Got something on your mind, pretty girl?” He rubbed a hand across your cheek as you reached up for his belt, ghosting your hand over the growing bulge. 

You quickly undid his belt and the button to his cheeks, your tongue coming to swipe over your bottom lip. “I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.” You looked up at him with big doe and innocent eyes.

Once his pants were down his legs, you nuzzled your face into his hairy thigh. Taking your time to run your nails along his clothed cock, feeling the throb of it against your hand. 

The hand in your hair pulled your hand back, making you whimper out. “You gonna tease me or put your pretty mouth to use?”

The way Eddie spoke to you like you were a toy made your heart thump in your chest. You loved when he acted this way towards you, like you were nothing but something to use for his pleasure.

Eddie slid down his boxers, his cock springing in front of your waiting mouth. The tip was an angry wet, dripping with precum. Your tongue licked at the leaking slit, collecting what was dripping and swallowing it down. You opened your mouth once you were done, sticking out your tongue to show you that you did a good job. 

Taking your mouth wide open as an opportunity, Eddie trapped the back of your head and slid his cock down your throat. Immediately you gagged, your throat not ready for the sudden intrusion. 

“Atta girl,” Eddie just laughed at you, mocking your whimpers. “Awe, poor thing. Is it too big for you?”

To show that it wasn’t too big, you took more of him in your mouth. His heavy balls now wetly pressed against your chin. You looked up at him with tear glossed eyes as you swallowed around his cock.

“Shit.” Eddie threw off his shirt and looked down at you in awe. 

His cock was fully stuffed in your mouth, your tears staining your rosy flushed cheeks. You looked so good like this, you always looked good in his eyes.

You reached a hand up and cupped his cum filled balls, trying but failing to smirk when he let out a choked groan. 

“O-oh, fucking hell.” The grip Eddie had on your hair tightened as he moved your mouth up and down his cock. 

He gave you a chance to breathe, fully pulling you away. Your lips were wet, red, and swollen. Strings of salvia strung from your used lips to from his cock and the sight had you grinding against the air.

Eddie leaned down until he was closer to you, his breath fanning across your lips. “Does sucking my cock get you that needy?”

“Yes.” You didn’t even hesitate when you answered. 

“What a dirty fucking slut.” The hand on his balls gave a firm squeeze, Eddie’s eyes immediately screwing shut. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re so fucking good.”

You took the sensitive head of his cock back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the leaking slit.

Eddie was close, you could tell by his stomach muscles tensing and his groans becoming louder. “That’s right, use your mouth to make me cum.” 

Bobbing your head up and down his cock, you didn’t stop. Not until Eddie was holding your head still, his cock fully in your throat, his hot cum dripping down it. His words came out broken as he could only focus on the warmth and wetness of your mouth as he came.

“I-,” his hips stuttered against your face as he kept cumming in your mouth. “S-so good.”

When you pulled away with a pop! of your mouth, you were in shock to see that he was still rock hard after he had just cum. 

Eddie noticed your expression and patted your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “I’ve got a lot of stamina now, baby. I told you, you’d be in for it.”

He moved to lay on the bed, his cock fully standing up, and waiting for you. 

You crawled onto the bed, swinging your legs so that you could straddle Eddie’s hips. His hands came to rest over your own hips, guiding you until your cunt was hovering over his cock, dripping on it. 

Deciding not to waste anymore time, you slowly slid down his cock, whimpering at the slight stretch of your cunt. It was blissful to finally have his cock in you, filling you full to the brim. 

“God- Eddie, you feel so good.” You braced your hands against his tattooed chest, giving yourself something to sturdy your body on. “Fill me so full that your balls are pressed right against my ass.” 

One of Eddie’s hands moved from your hips, coming down hard, and spanking you. The impact was hard enough to have your skin stinging in pleasure, wanting more. 

“Again,” you whimpered, lifting your hips. 

“Oh, you want more?” Repeatedly, Eddie’s hand came down in harsh spanks, alternating between ass cheeks. Your supple skin jiggled under his hand.

By the time he was done, small tears were falling from your eyes, mouth agape from your silent moans, your ass was now rosy red. 

“My pretty baby,” he bucked his hips up into you, jolting your body forward. “Such a tight fucking cunt.”

Your nails dug into Eddie’s chest, leaving behind crescent moon shapes. “Please, give it to me!” 

Eddie’s hips kept bucking up into you, rolling your hips to meet each thrust. The little patch of Eddie’s pubic hair was rubbing perfectly against your clit. “Yes, oh my god- yes!”

You had completely forgotten you still had your shirt on before Eddie ripped it right down the middle. Your nipples immediately hardened from the cold air hitting them. 

Eddie’s eyes watched, never leaving your chest, as your tits bounced up and down. He leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of the buds and sucked it into his mouth as you kept riding him. 

“Baby- Eddie!” You wrapped your arms around his head, holding him in place. 

Eddie mumbled against your skin. You could only make out the word “beautiful,” making your heart flutter.

Each roll of your hips had your eyes rolling back and your thighs shaking. Eddie’s cock was sliding in and out of your pussy perfectly, bringing you closer to cumming. 

“Yeah? You like that?” Eddie’s hands found your hips again, guiding you up and down his cock. “Look so good taking my cock, baby.” 

“Eddie- I’m gonna cum!” You clenched around his cock, your head falling into his neck. 

“Cum for me baby.” He reached between your sweaty bodies and found your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. “Doing so fucking good.” 

You let out broken moans against the skin of his neck as you came around his cock, gushing over it and his balls. You saw stars behind your eyes and your skin was on fire as your orgasm tore through your body, making you shake, and cry out.” 

“Eddie!” Your hands gripped onto anything they could. 

Eddie grabbed you by your hair and pulled you from his neck to get a good look at you. “Jesus, look at you so cock drunk,” he soothed a hand over your head. “But we aren’t done yet.” 

He helped you slide off of him, both of you hissing from the sensation. Your cum dripped from your used hole and down your thighs as he turned you over to your stomach. 

Your hand printed ass was now in the air, your holes in display for him. 

“You’re so pretty,” his rough hands spread your ass cheeks apart, getting a good look at you. “Just wanna use you until you’re passed out from coming so much.” 

“Please…” Your voice came out tired, but you were ready for more. That was evident in the wiggle of your hips. 

You felt the rough mouth of Eddie as he kissed and bit his way up your back and to your neck. Marking you up more so you know who you belong to. “You just take whatever I give you, huh?”

You nodded your head against the pillow, finding words hard to speak. 

His hand swatted at your ass again, making it even redder. “I asked you a question.” 

“Uhuh, yes!” You turned your head to the side and looked at him as he looked back at you. “I’ll take everything you give.”

Without warning, he slid his cock all the way inside of your cunt until his balls were slapping against your clit. Your eyes shot open and your back arched. 

You were now beyond overly sensitive. Each drag of his cock, each kiss to your neck, everything was sending your body into overdrive. Maybe you couldn’t take everything he gave you and Eddie noticed it immediately.

“You tapping out?” His lips were right by your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. 

“N-no…” You wiggled your hips against his cock, your hands gripping the pillow and your knuckles turning white. 

Eddie chuckled behind you, his teeth barred as he let out a low groan. “You’re already about to cum, aren’t you? I can fucking feel it.” 

He wasn’t wrong, you were already clenching around his cock again. It just felt so fucking good and holding on was getting harder to do. 

“Just- don’t stop.” Tears were stinging in your eyes the closer you got, your toes curling with each thrust of Eddie’s hips. 

Eddie didn’t stop, especially knowing you were about to cum again. His hips pistoned into you, his cock bullying your hole. “You can do it, baby.” His sweat was dripping down your back. 

You couldn’t, not when your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You slumped back down into the pillows and screamed into them. Every part of your body shook as you squirting over Eddie’s cock and balls, coating your thighs in more of a mess than earlier. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” This orgasm was harder than the others, sending shocks throughout your body and making you convulse against the bed. “I-I can’t stop.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt. You just kept squirting, making his cock slip out and your cunt now clench around nothing. “Baby, you’re so fucking hot.” 

He turned you over, now having you on your back. Your 

eyes were fully glazed over, skin red from sweating. You are completely used. 

You tried to pull him away, but he pinned your arms above your head with one of his hands.

“You got one more in you,” he tapped the hefty tip of his cock against your clit, your legs trying to close. “Just take it, baby.”

You couldn’t resist it, though, not when it came to Eddie. 

The slide of his cock in your cunt burned, but it quickly turned pleasurably. “S-shit.” 

Eddie pressed his forehead against yours, but his eyes never left where the two of you were connected. “I wish you could see your cunt taking all of my cock.” He slid all the way out before slamming back in, sending your body up the bed. “So fucking good.” 

Your drug your nails down his back, making your own marks on him. “Please, j-just one more.” It was all you could handle, just one more.

“Yeah?” He wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed, watching as you lost a little bit of your breath. “One more, sweetheart.” 

Each snap of Eddie’s hips had the both of you moaning out, your breaths fanning across one another’s face. 

“Love your cock,” you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Eddie went to speak but inside let out a throaty moan when he felt you clench around him again and his balls tighten up. This time he was going to cum with you, drain everything he had inside your needy, little cunt. 

“Gonna fill you up nice and full- fuck,” the hand on your throat squeezed harder the closer he got to cumming. “Watch it drip out of you mixed with your sweet blood.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin and breathy moans filled the room. 

“Keep squeezing my cock,” Eddie’s head fell beside yours. “Just like fucking that.” 

“Please, please, please!” You repeated the word like a prayer as the coil in your stomach tightened until it couldn’t go anymore. 

Eddie let go of your neck and laced his fingers with yours as you both came together. 

You gushed over his cock again, your mouth falling open in broken moans and screams. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the warmth feeling off Eddie cumming inside you, emptying his balls. 

“T-take it all.” Eddie’s eyes were screwed shut, his chest heaving up and down with each short breath he took. “God, I fucking love you.” 

By the time Eddie was done cumming, you were numb. Your body was worn out and limp, just how Eddie loved it when he was done fucking you. 

Eddie pulled out but didn’t move from his position. Instead, he laid his body on top of yours, engulfing you in his arms. 

“T-thank you,” you tried to wrap your arms around him but everything felt so heavy. 

“You feel better now?” He pressed soft kisses across your chest, the total opposite of how he just acted when his cock was inside you. 

Too tired to talk, you only nodded your head, your eyes almost falling shut from the sleepiness taking over your body. 

The sheets below your body were covered in your sweat and blood, your thighs sticky with cum.  Eddie’s cock was also covered in your blood and cum, but he loved it that way. It was a mess, but Eddie and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Before shutting your eyes completely, you noticed the sun start to shine through the blinds on the windows. Eddie had fucked you all night long and into the morning. 

You felt Eddie scoop your body into his arms, making his way to the bathroom.

He turned the water to the bath on as you sat in his lap, half asleep.

“You just relax,” Eddie whispered to you.” I’ll clean up you and the mess you made. Maybe later we can go again, if you can take it.”

[navybrat817]

The man spread. 🤤

(Also the face he's making....)

(Also, hi! ❤️)

Hi, lovely! You know I couldn't resist doing something for Titan and Starshine for you!

Photogenic

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You love one of the photos Roxy took of Bucky, but he isn't having it.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, kissing, established relationship, college love, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

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

If there was one thing your roommate took seriously, it was her photography. It wasn’t just Roxy’s major, but her way of expressing herself. So when she asked for your opinion on the photos she took of Bucky and Steve, you answered as honestly and diplomatically as possible. You selected the ones you thought captured the project’s essence in the best possible way. You also reminded her that you weren’t a photographer, so your word shouldn’t hold a lot of weight.

She disagreed.

“I still don’t get why you asked for help. I don’t have a keen eye the way you do and I can barely take a photo on my phone,” you said, having to look away from one of the images of Bucky that seemed to stare right at you.

Though it was just a picture, it was like he knew you downplayed yourself and was trying to figure out why. He loved reminding you on your off days that you were one of the brightest students on campus. The compliments usually sent a wave of heat through your body, especially because he stated them unprompted and meant every word.

Roxy playfully rolled her eyes. “You know you don’t have to be a photographer to have a good eye. I not only value your opinion as my roommate, but also as Bucky’s girlfriend. You even managed to stay impartial, so give yourself a pat on the back.”

A laugh bubbled up as you nodded in agreement. While you did stare more at Bucky’s photos than Steve’s, your heart racing with each one that Roxy laid out, you choose an even amount between the two. It was only fair.

“Thank you for asking. I’m glad I could help,” you said. It meant a lot that she wanted your opinion on the finalized product,

“Me, too. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me to throw Steve’s photos in the garbage,” she joked, carefully looking over one of the images of him hitting a punching bag. “I’m impressed.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, Steve’s just as photogenic as Bucky,” you pointed out as her eyebrows shot up. “Okay, almost as photogenic.”

Steve was admittedly one of the most gorgeous men on campus. The blonde haired, blue eyed Adonis with the kind yet almost reserved smile turned many heads. So did Bucky. Two men who looked like a couple of heartbreakers from a glance, but were far from it.

“The camera really does love them,” Roxy stated, chewing her bottom lip as she scanned the images again with a careful eye. After a moment, she smiled from ear-to-ear. “I am so getting an A.”

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. And the fact that she had such a tough time choosing which images to share when she normally had no problem doing so showed just how many good ones she had at her disposal.

There was one shot of Bucky, however, that she had no problem removing from the film hanger and handing to you to keep for yourself.

He had his powerful thighs spread and wasn’t quite biting his lip, but there was something irresistibly sexy about the pose.

What were you thinking about, Titan?

“Not that I don’t love me some manspreading, because I do, that wasn’t exactly the look that I was going for,” she joked, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you smile so wide your cheeks ached. “What exactly did you say to get him to pose like that?”

“Me? I didn’t say anything,” you smiled, ignoring Roxy’s knowing look as you glanced through the rest of the photos once more. At least, you didn’t think you said anything.

She didn’t believe that for a second. “You act so innocent, yet weren’t you warming his cock when he-”

“Hey, weren’t there supposed to be some photos of Bucky and I together?” You casually cut her off as you pressed your thighs together, wishing your boyfriend was there at that moment.

When Bucky pulled you into his lap during the shoot, you tried to keep your hands to yourself. It didn’t stop the two of you from kissing when Roxy instructed you to. Not that you needed any additional prompting. Bucky had the most kissable lips you ever had the pleasure of feeling against your own.

Your roommate smirked a little. “Oh, I have those tucked away so I can give them to you together,” she said, nudging you toward the door when your phone went off. She must’ve spotted that “Titan” popped up on the screen. “Go. Thanks again. Make good choices. Don’t let him impregnate you, but let him give you all the orgasms you deserve. We’ll allow those.”

“You’re ridiculous in the best way,” you giggled, making sure you had your keys and the photo. While neither you nor Bucky were ready for a family, it didn’t embarrass you in the least that Roxy encouraged the physical side of your relationship with him.

“Don’t forget to show him that photo!”

“I won’t forget!” you promised, smiling as you left and read Bucky’s message.

“Waiting downstairs, Starshine.”

“Be right there,” you messaged back, a skip in your step as you went to greet him outside of your building.

You found yourself staring into the depth of Bucky’s steel eyes as he stood a few feet in front of the door. Tall, athletic, and somehow yours, he managed to stand out in his jeans and t-shirt. Or maybe he stood out to you because he was your guy.

“There she is,” he warmly smiled as you walked toward him.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about your casual outfit before you remembered there was no need. Bucky had seen you in the mornings without makeup and still called you beautiful. “Here I am,” you smiled.

He nodded toward your right hand. “What’s that?”

“One of the photos Roxy took. She has others to share with us later,” you answered, holding it up to show him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at it, but gave nothing else away to show if he liked it or not. “But she said I can keep this.”

He pushed a hand back through his hair before he tried to take it from your hand. “Burn it,” he ordered.

That wasn’t the reaction you expected and it made you giggle. “Burn it? I will do no such thing,” you said, moving backward as he advanced on you. “Why should I get rid of this?”

“Because it’s a terrible picture of me,” he huffed.

He’s adorable.

“Not to stroke your ego since you’re acting a little vain, but you’re extremely photogenic. I don’t think you can take a bad photo,” you told him, taking another step back. “I’m keeping this forever because it’s very alluring.”

“There are plenty of other photos you can keep,” he argued as you held the picture out of reach again. His nostrils flared and it took everything in you not to giggle again before he frowned. “Did you say I look alluring?”

Wait, does he really think he looks bad? He’s James Buchanan Barnes. A god among men.

“Bucky Barnes, my Titan, yes. You’re sexy and enticing and I never thought I’d see you worked up over a picture that isn't bad to begin with,” you teased, almost jumping when your back hit the building door. It gave him the perfect opportunity to box you in with his hands, a rush of heat going through your body as he brought his face close to yours. “Do you honestly think you look bad? Because you don’t. Not to me.”

He brought his hand over to cradle your cheek and leaned in until his forehead touched yours. “I just wanna look good for you,” he admitted in a small voice.

It was almost embarrassing how wide your eyes got, so used to his confidence that you forgot that he sometimes had off days, too. Your heart ached to see his self-assurance shake for even a moment and you wondered if it was how he felt when you spoke negatively about yourself. It put things in perspective when you thought of it like that.

“You do. You always look good. I’m more attracted to you every day. To your looks, your brain, and your heart. You’re incredible,” you assured him, in no hurry to move away from the door. “And just like you remind me of how incredible you think I am, I’ll do the same for you.”

“You think my brain is attractive?” He asked, his usual smile back on his face as you nodded. You knew that was how happy you looked when he chased any of your insecurities away. “I sounded crazy, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn't," you said, putting a hand over his. "You sounded human."

“Thank you for making me feel better,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours as your heart pounded. “But I still think you should burn it.”

“Not a chance,” you smiled before his mouth covered yours.

Swept up in Bucky’s kiss, you both missed the fact that your TA was mere feet away, watching and wishing that it was him that you were kissing instead.

And if he has his way, you will.

Hmm. I wonder who the TA is. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[novashelby]

Beg for It~TommyxReaderxJohn

Pairings: TommyxReader(3rd person)xJohn

MDNI.18+

Warnings: NON-CON, Degradation, humiliation, offensive language, spanking, and manipulation. PLEASE, PLEASE...take this warning seriously because I almost didn't post this. The vocal humiliation and degradation is ROUGH. Because it is, I just want to disclaim that, I, myself are against these actions in real life. However, this is purely fiction and for consenting ADULTS wishing to indulge.

Summary: When John Shelby goes to pick up the protection fee, he is met with the baker's sassy daughter. Not appreciating her attitude, Tommy and John teach her a little lesson.

Prompt: Beg for It

Word Count: 4,243

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

It was a new bakery that many people in the city seemed to enjoy. Italian. Which always made the Shelby family slightly curious. But everyone assured them: a sweet family that always minded their own business. Even Tommy couldn’t find anything wrong about them-Italian mother, Italian father, American born daughter. Though, perhaps that was curious. But, really, the worst thing they have done was introduce the Brummies to this soft, decadent pastry. It was a fluffy bun stuffed to the brim with a soft, sweet cream. They sold out within thirty minutes every morning and by early afternoons most days, the shop was bare minimums with perhaps some breads and biscuits. 

The shop owners' daughter was left to clean after closing. That was her duty besides working the counter; clean the shop top to bottom. She'd just finished sweeping the floor when the door opened. Not realizing she had left it unlocked, she jumped to find a young man dressed well in a blue suit. Politely, he took off his flat cap and tucked it away under her arm, and bowed his head respectfully. Regrettably she winced, “I’m sorry, sir, but we are closed. But we have some leftover bread if you want to just take it.” She started to walk around the counter, leaving her broom leaning on the wall. He grinned, walking around the shop, looking around at everything. He took note of the small things and the big things. It was a nice place, he admitted to himself. Perhaps his aunt was right in praising it. 

She was packing up some bread when he finally paused and turned to her, toothpick twirling about in his mouth. He grinned and walked to the counter, leaning on it. Teasingly, he pulled the bag closer to him by his index finger before lifting it to his face. Almost mockingly, he closed his eyes and took a deep inhale, holding it before letting out a long, exaggerated, “mmmmmmm.” His eyes fluttered open and he gave a toothy grin. “Do you bake?”

She smiled, taking the bag back and taping it shut for him. “No. My father and mother…I do everything else. Cleaning, the counter, the money, the organizing. Keeps me busy. Out of trouble, they say.” 

That’s when he leaned in a bit closer wearing a grin that made her drop her smile. Despite being modest, his eyes still moved to her blouse as he said, “and are you trouble?”

“No.” She was a bit more curt with him, lips pursed. “But I heard you Brummie boys were a lot of trouble. What are you looking for? Something tells me you aren’t exactly looking for bread.” That’s when he chuckled to himself. Always the girls with the big mouths, he thought, looking back up to her before digging out a piece of paper. It had a money amount written on it. 

“Actually, it is I that has something for your father. Is he around?”

She grabbed the paper from his fingers, tearing it at the edge before her eyes skimmed over it. She had to lie. “No, you just missed him. He’s gone away to visit some family for the weekend. What is this?” 

“A little fee that businesses around here pay,” he explained, tone changing a bit. Sitting up, he straightened his jacket. “I’m John Shelby.”

She glared at him, jaw stiff a bit. “A fee? Pizzo. It’s fuckin’ pizzo!” She ripped it up in tiny little pieces. John watched her, amused. What a fighter, eh? In her hand was a pile of white flakes. She leaned down and blew. “Now, it’s fuckin’ snow! Merry fuckin’ Christmas, John Shelby, and you can go fuck yourself and your Pizzo….” John Shelby looked down at his jacket, flicking off the white specks, nodding his head. 

“Do you normally have such a mouth?” he asked, arching a brow. “Hm? Did your daddy ever tell you that you shouldn’t talk to others like that, eh?”

“And did yours ever tell you that you shouldn’t extort innocent businesses?” she mocked. “It's extortion. That is the actual term, asshole.”

“Extortion, fee, pizzo,” he shrugged. “All the same fookin’ outcome if you don’t pay it-”

“Oh!?” She laughed, amused. She grabbed a rum bottle from under the counter. The same type her father both drank from and used for baking. “What will happen? Hmm?” She started to walk around the counter. “Burn it down?” she mocked. “Oh, no! The big scary man is going to burn down my bakery cause he didn’t get his way.” She was walking towards him, finger poking at his vest-covered chest. Slowly, he backed up, eying her.

“It’s a protection fee,” he said. “Protect you and your family and business from-”

“From what? You? Please, you can’t fool me. I’m fuckin’ Italian. I know what pizzo is. I pay it, I keep my business. I don’t…you burn it down. But you know what, burn it right now, Mr. Shelby. Go ahead, hm? Be that big, scary gangster you are and burn it.” John was not going to entertain this. Crazy girl. He rolled his eyes and nodded for her to have a good day, but when he turned his back, he heard the rum spill to the ground and splash to him. In her pocket was a book of matches and she lit one. “Hmm? I’ll do it.” 

John cursed under his breath, rubbing his temple. Putting his hand up, he said, “okay, look…just put the fookin’ match down, alright. No pizzo…no pizzo!” Breathing got a bit heavier, he scratched the back of his head. “Fuckin’ ell, you crazy bitch! What is wrong with you?”  That is when she smirked and started to lower the match, throwing it to the ground. He jumped back, hollering. “What the fuck!?” But she laughed as the match sizzled and went out. It was water in the rum bottle. 

“What is wrong with me? Ha!” She dropped her smile and glared. “I’m fucking crazy and if you don’t leave my bakery, I will show you just how fucking crazy I can be, John Shelby.” He scoffed and put his hat on his head, leaving. The bakery shook as he was not shy about slamming the door. 

That night when she explained to her father about the predicament she was sure she handled it, but he was less than impressed. The next day, a few shillings in hand and a bag of bread, she was forced to go to the Garrison. “Apologize sincerely,” her father had warned. But she simply rolled her eyes. There was no way an apology was going to slip from her stubborn lips. 

She walked in, the pub empty except a familiar man at the counter, sipping a whiskey, writing some numbers in a book. She cleared her throat, and he paused, turning around. Snorting, he looked at her and continued writing. “Come here to burn the pub?” he asked in a mumble. 

“No.” She walked forward and slammed the bread on the counter before reaching in her little coin satchel. “Here. Though I don’t see it, my father is scared of you. Pathetic, really.” She put the fee on the counter and pushed it to him. He was about to say something when another man walked through double wooden doors, pausing.  

“You’re that baker’s girl, eh?” he asked, lighting a smoke and walking forward. “Called me this morning. Said you’d be here by nine.” Mockingly, he pulled out his gold watch and said, “ah, but it’s ten.” She scoffed, eyes about to roll, but he tapped on the counter. “Oi! Don’t look at me like that, girl.” He said ‘girl’ as if she was below him, condescendingly. His finger pointed at her. “You have a fuckin’ mouth on you, y’know? Talkin’ to me brother like that, eh.”

She grinned and looked down at John. “Told your brother? Aw, you must be the baby. Telling his older brother…oh, the mean little baker girl scared-” She jumped and yelped when Tommy hit the wooden counter again. That time was harder and louder. Her eyes slowly looked up at him as he made his way to her. 

“How old are you?” he asked, perching the cigarette between his lips. The smoke blew in her face, causing her to choke a bit.

Admittedly, she was a little scared when she noticed the gun in the holster. But she kept her attitude. “Seeing the wrinkles under your eyes, I’m a lot younger than you.” John paused, taking a deep breath, mouthing fuckin’ ‘ell. Little did she know her stubborn mouth was going to get her in trouble. 

Tommy took the smoke from his lips and stared at her in disbelief. He reached out and grabbed her cheeks, fingers pressing harshly into her skin. John watched, feeling his stomach drop when she pushed away and slapped him. Tommy laughed, head still turned and rubbing his cheek. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Looking back at her, he asked, “Daddy never taught you any manners, eh? Just walk around thinking you can act like a little cunt, hm?”

She spat at his feet and said, “definitely taught me not to let men put their fuckin’ hands on me. You got your money, I’m going to leave.” When she attempted to push past him, unapologetically bumping into his arm, he turned and gripped a handful of her hair. “Shit!” She hissed, struggling to regain herself, pushing at him. “Let go-!” With his free hand, he wrapped it around her throat just enough to make her panic. 

“You’re a fuckin’ brat,” he said, amused walking her to the back office. She kept telling him in a mix of grunts and pleads to let go of her, but he easily shut her up. He gripped her neck in a way that his thumb, pinky, and ring finger were pressing against her flesh, but his middle and index were shoved in her mouth. “There you go, shut up, hm?” He laughed as her tongue tried to pry his fingers out of her mouth. It was even more cute when she tried to speak and her words were just a string of gurgles. “Hmm? What is it, baby?” He moved his fingers around in her mouth and cooed. “I know, sweety. It doesn’t feel so nice being humiliated, does it? It’s okay, though. Mr. Shelby is going to be so kind, hmm? Okay? He’s going to teach you a little lesson so this doesn’t happen again.” He kicked the door to his office shut and moved her to the wooden desk. She fought against him, trying to push her body against his to throw him off. 

John could hear the commotion from the bar and slid off his stool, walking in and pausing at the door frame. Brow arched, he asked, “is this really necessary?” Tommy, tired, threw her on the ground and put his foot on the back on her left leg, telling her to stay. John shook his head. “She paid the money, let ‘er go, Tommy.”

Tommy, out of breath, gave his brother a look that was familiar. The one look that John couldn’t fight with. “What?” he asked, arching his brow. “John, lock fucking door and come…stop fuckin’ moving…and come here, eh?” John let out a long sigh and shut the double doors, locking them. When he walked over, Tommy took a seat back and grabbed his bottle of rum. “Get her over the desk-”

“Tommy,” John said, slumping his shoulders a bit. “What the fuck are you going to? Spank her?” When Tommy didn’t answer, John froze before cursing. “You aren’t-”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not, John, you are.” 

She sat up and backed herself up against the desk, swallowing as she looked up at John. When their eyes connected, she said, “I’m sorry…please don’t. I just want to go home.”  But John had to listen to his older brother. Kneeling, he gave her a sympathetic frown before hoisting her up. She struggled a bit, but gave up seeing that the doors were locked by a key. 

“Face her towards me, John,” he said, reaching for another smoke. John rested her body over the wooden desk, and when she looked at Tommy, he smiled at her. She flinched when he reached out and gently caressed her cheek, thumb teasing at her lips. “What a fuckin’ mouth on you, eh? Such a messy girl, hm? Open.” She sucked her lips in, in protest, shaking her head, but he simply pinched her nose. Struggling she kept her lips sealed until she had to suck in air. “Good girl,” he praised. “See?” Tommy shoved his two fingers in her mouth again, pushing them to the back of her throat. Gagging and drooling, she made a pool of mess on the desk. “See, John? She’s a good girl. Just only shuts her mouth at the wrong times.” John looked down at her in pity, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t turning him on just a bit. “You never had anything in this pretty mouth before, huh? I can tell. That’s a good girl. Practice on my fingers.” That’s when she fought back, pushing away and spitting them out. Catching John off guard, she slipped from the desk, accidentally falling into the seat.

“You’re disgusting,” she said, wiping her mouth. 

Tommy slid back in his chair and got up, walking to his brother and gripping his face. The two had a short stair down before Tommy said, “can’t keep a fuckin’ girl half your fuckin’ size in place?” John looked off to the side, but Tommy forced him to look at him, slapping his cheek. “Oi! Listen to me, eh? You fuckin’ keep her in place or I’ll do it! Understand me, John?” John nodded and mumbled alright, Tommy.  “Good.” He turned to her and kneeled to her height, lifting up her chin. “You better hope he does what I tell him because you’ll not like what I do to you.” Those words sent a chill up her spine that caused her to be slightly more compliant. She allowed him to easily place her over the desk. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see those beautiful eyes…ah, good girl. Now open your mouth.” John pressed his lower half against her legs so she couldn’t move. She opened her mouth and took in his fingers. “Go on, practice. How would you suck my cock?” The way he said ‘my’ and not ‘a’ made her stomach curl. Was he going to make her do it? She obediently bobbed her head back and forth, not breaking eye contact. “You can do better…try harder.” His eyes fluttered up to John, amused. “Fuckin’ just gonna stand there?” She bobbed harder, sucking on them and swirling her tongue around his fingers. Drool was pooling from her lips. 

John rolled his eyes. “What would you like me to do, Tommy?”

“What are you, a fuckin’ virgin? Got to show you what to do? Take off your fuckin’ belt for one,” he said looking back at her, smiling. “Cause someone still needs her little arse spanked, huh? Cause someone’s father didn’t fucking do it. Huh? It’s okay…don’t be scared. Some girls like having their body abused like that. I think you may be one of them.” John’s hands slid up her quivering legs. She whimpered on his fingers, feeling John tickle her skin. His fingers hooked around the waist band and pulled south until he slipped them from her legs. John looked over the pink silk, thumb rubbing against the oval wet spot, a small grin on his face before he showed Tommy. Tommy pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a string of spit following. Her lips were a beautiful bruised red that made his cock twitch in his trousers. When he noticed her eyes drift down, he gently tickled her chin. “Don’t worry, sweety. You’ll get that soon enough when I’m sure you won’t bite.” He grabbed the panties and looked at the wet spot before showing her. “Look at this,” he said, smiling as if he was proud of her. “What is this? You either tinkled yourself or your little cunt is getting excited.” He brought it up his face and to her disgust, he licked it before grinning. “Such a dirty slut.”

Meanwhile, John was rolling her skirt over her ass, resting it on her back. It gave him a full, beautiful view of her ass and pussy. John grinned and looked up at Tommy, “I think someone enjoys being degraded.” His hands worked at his belt, sliding it off through the loops. It was pure leather. When his hand rested on her ass, massaging the soft, untouched skin, her body jolted. His hands were cold. John sighed. “I didn’t even start yet, babygirl.” 

“I think twenty would do her good,” Tommy said, balling up her panties. “C’mon, sweetheart, open your mouth up again…let me put these in.” 

“It’s going to hurt,” she whimpered, but didn’t protest, opening her mouth for him to gag her with her own panties. 

“That’s the point, babygirl,” John said, looking up at Tommy with a grin. He was starting to enjoy it a bit himself, remembering how much the girl pissed him off the day before. “Twenty?” Tommy nodded and looked back at her. 

“Yes, twenty,” he said. “Are you scared?” 

She nodded, unable to speak properly.

“Think of just how much more scared you would be if you didn’t pay that fuckin’ fee,” he said, touching her cheek, sliding it up to her hair. “Without me protecting you. Hm? Aren’t you happy you are here with Mr. Shelby and not getting your little cunt raped by some savage fucking Italian.” Her eyes started to well a bit and he pouted, mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart, I forgot…you’re Italian. Sorry, you kind of just look like a dirty little girl to me right now. You want me to stop? Yeah? You do?” She nodded, crying into the rag. He chuckled. “Then beg for it. Beg for me to stop.” She tried to yell the words through her underwear, but it didn’t come out. “Aww, you can’t, can you. John, go on. Twenty spanks…soft at first. We’ll at least be nice in that regard.”

John nodded. “Alright.” He gave her round ass once last rub and a love tap before spitting on her. His eyes studied the hand crafted leather belt, feeling it in his hands before raising it and bringing it down against her skin. It was a soft tap, and she jolted for the surprise more than anything. It was a little sting, nothing more. “One.” He waited a second before bringing it down again. “Oi!” He shouted. “Two! C’mon…count.” Through the fabric, she tried to count, but he was always one ahead of her. Sometimes he’d land one at a time then others, two. With each spank, he went harder as if he was getting angrier, hating her. But John just loved the sound of leather hitting her bare skin. Especially the way it looked. “Your arse is so fuckin’ red,” he moaned out, one handly unbuttoning his trousers, allowing his cock out. “Tommy,” he said, looking over to his brother. “After…after I’m done-”

“You still have ten more spanks,” he said, hand still cradling her cheek, wiping away her tears with a swipe of his thumb. “Doesn’t he, sweetheart? It’s okay. You’re taking them so well. Daddy is very proud of you.” The way he said daddy nearly made her toes curl. She moaned in the rag, eyes getting heavy. “I’m going to take such good care of you,” he whispered.

John sighed as his hand gently tugged eagerly at his cock. Her cunt was there and all he wanted was to rub it against her. But he raised the belt and from frustration, slammed it down hard. In pain, she screamed into the rag, fingers white knuckled gripping at the wood. There was a knock at his office, and through the wood, someone said, “Jesus, Tommy, what the fuck are you doin’ in there?”

Tommy sighed, but John answered for him, “fuck off, Arthur!” 

Tommy laughed and pinched her cheek. “Screaming a little too loud, princess. Did Johnny boy hit you too hard, hm?” She nodded and he frowned. “Alright, but it’s your job to keep quiet, eh?” She nodded, feeling completely submitted to him. If she wasn’t gagged, she would have said, with ease, yes, sir. “Good girl.” 

“What is going on in there, eh?” The door jiggled and John glared at him. “Why is the door locked, hm?” 

“I said, fuck off!” he hollered, spanking another skin splitting hit. Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she tried not to scream. Tommy looked at John and put his hand up, silently telling him to calm down just a tad. The poor girl’s ass was blistering red and on fire. Tommy hadn’t expected his brother to get so worked up. 

“Arthur,” Tommy yelled, standing up and leaning into the girl. “It’s my other brother. I’ll be back, sweetheart. Be good to John, eh? Can you do that?” And she nodded, which made him smile. Sweetly, and surprisingly, he kissed her forehead, lingering there. Waltzing around the desk, he paused at John, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just seven more.” John nodded. Something about spanking her made him feral. Made him want to shove her body against his bed, face pushed in the pillow. Tommy unlocked the door and slid out. 

When he left, John dropped his belt and leaned over her, hand around her throat. “You really fuckin’ pissed me off yesterday…. Ripping up my shite like that.” He pushed his cock between her legs, allowing it to tease at her lips. Feeling it there felt like hell. She tried to shimmy herself from his grasp, whimpering, but he was far too heavy. “What the fuck you think you’re doing, huh? Coming here with your smart mouth…not so smart now, huh? Your dirty panties shoved down your throat. You can’t even ask me to stop right now. I could do it, you know? Pissed me off so, so fucking bad…I could do it.” He started to move his hips up, his cock slipping between her lips, pushing up and rubbing against her clit. His breath shuddered. “Then you come in here like you fuckin’ own everywhere you step…And you didn’t even apologize. Get this fuckin’ rag out of your mouth!” He pulled it out and grabbed a fist of her hair, and made her sit up a bit. Immediately, she started choking and gasping for all the air she could. “Say you’re fuckin’ sorry.”

Choking on her tears, she cried out, “I’m sorry!”

“Say it again…say you’re fucking sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt.”

She had to pause, squeezing her eyes shut in shame. “I-I’m-”

“Get it the fuck out!” he yelled in her ear.

“I’m sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt!”

“Good,” he said, about to position himself when the door opened and locked behind him. He closed his eyes, cursing. Tommy walked around the desk, looking at his brother. “I finished the spanking….”

“Did you?” he asked, and John nodded. Tommy looked at the girl. “Did he?” She nodded. Tommy tsked and shook his head. “Are you lying to me, sweetheart?” When she nodded again, Tommy looked up at John. “Got a fuckin’ wife at home and you’re that horny? Get a new fuckin’ wife, eh? Take your cock and put it away.” John groaned, pushing away from the girl, fixing himself.

“Really, Tommy? You made me do this and you won’t let me finish?” he asked.

Tommy lit another smoke and said,  “no, your job was to spank her…never said to fuck the girl. You can leave. Arthur is outside waiting. You two need to go run some errands for me.” John rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before heading out the door. When it slammed shut and locked, Tommy looked down at her. “Did he fuck you?” She shook her head. “Use your words.”

“No, sir,” she choked. 

He gave a quick nod, “good.” Tommy sat back in his chair and leaned back. “C’mere.” The girl paused for a second watching as he patted his lap before slowly climbing off the desk and into his lap. “Good girl,” he cooed, bringing her into his chest. “Rest against me. Don’t worry, we’re done with our little lesson. Did you learn anything?”

“Yes, sir.’

“And what did you learn?”

“To be a good girl.” Tommy smiled at that answer, cradling her in his arms. His hand danced in circles around her back while her head rested against his chest. “Can I go home soon?” she asked, feeling worn out and filthy from what had happened. Nevermind emotionally and mentally fucked.

Tommy looked down at her before he said, “no. I think you and Mr. Shelby will spend some more time together. Perhaps for the evening. How does that sound, eh?” He placed a kiss on her head and called her a, “pretty girl.” She couldn’t fight him. It was no use. Submitting, she snuggled into his lap, yawning. “And I think you and I can make a new arrangement in regards to the protection fee.” With that, he stood, holding her in his arms. “C’mon,” he whispered. “I’ll take you to my home and we’ll have a bath.”

[leviscolwill]

something to give each other

pairing: situationship!jude x reader

summary: jude and you are nothing complicated, until one night when you need him more than anything [wc:~800]

contents: angst & fluff at the same time bc why not + maybe a tiny bit suggestive ? idek if this classify as suggestive tbh

note: ikkk it's very short and that's a shit summary just read pls 😓 if u liked it, lmk by reblogging !!

now playing something to give each other by troye sivan...

you don't know what brought you two together. maybe it was the magnetic energy that he had to him, or maybe it was the way your personalities completed each other perfectly. either way, you found yourself wishing your paths never crossed a bit too often.

you and jude weren't anything serious, it was ‘less complicated’ this way according to him. you hung out with your shared friends and when everyone else was heading home, you would share a uber to his house or yours. it was simple really, you both got what you wanted by the end of the night.

and tonight, you needed him to take your mind off this awful day. you couldn't wait for him to make you forget about those stupid exams and these stupid arguments with your friends.

you didn't take the time to greet him like you usually did before kissing jude's lips, maybe bolder than he expected. his fingers gripped your jaw and forced you to slow down and separate from him.

“what's with you tonight?”, you could only roll your eyes at his comment, small talk being the last thing on your mind tonight. thankfully, your fingers raking the skin under his shirt was enough to shut him up. “i just need you, please jude.”

his eyes closed, it was hard to resist your pleas but your voice had a tone that was different than usual and he didn't want you to do something you might regret later, “no, you need to tell me what's going on, we're not doing anything if you don't.”

“fuck off, you never ask me about anything and suddenly you're interested in what's going on?” you couldn't understand the sudden switch in his behavior, it had always been just sex, why complicate it now? “i just need you to kiss me, take off my clothes, and make me feel good, is this too much to ask for?” you could feel your eyes well up in tears the more you spoke, already frustrated by your day, and not wanting to argue with him.

“it's fine if you don't want to have sex, i'll just text someone else.”, of course you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, if anything you would leave and cry yourself to sleep in your bed. jude's thumbs wiped tears that you didn't notice were falling before cupping your face in his hands. his eyes looked into yours in a way you weren't used to, your eyes fell on the floor from the intensity of his gaze, but two of his fingers were already tilting your face up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

the silence between the two of you was becoming embarrassing, “i'm sorry about… all of this, i'll just go. sorry.” you couldn't even turn your back to him before his hand found your wrist, “you're not going anywhere. stay the night, please.”

you couldn't hide the frown on your face, confused by his words, “but you said you wouldn't…” the boy in front of you dramatically pretended to get offended, “this information might surprise you, but my life doesn't revolve around sex.” the giggles that escaped your mouth brought back a smile on both your lips.

jude's hand brought you to his room, although you knew the way all too well already, the warmth of his hand in yours brought you a sense of comfort that you didn't know you longed for. he handed you a shirt that was probably twice your size but would be perfect to sleep in. you embarrassingly looked around you before asking him to turn around, he complied but laughed his back now facing you.

“i've seen you naked so many times already, you shouldn't care about this love” heat was creeping up your face thinking about what he was hinting at, “s’ just different that's all…” your voice was barely audible, and you couldn't even tell if jude heard your words. you got under his sheets and told him he could turn around, his bed now significantly warmer with him next to you.

even with his eyes shut, jude could tell you were tense laying next to him ramrod straight. you felt his arm around you pull you closer, your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

you felt him shift a bit, and kiss the crown of your hair. the action made you heart skip a beat or two and relax more. you hoped you did a good job at pretending to be asleep because you didn't want to deal with the consequences of his ambiguous gestures in the morning. his fingers slowly stroking your hair were lulling you to sleep for real this time.

jude stopped once he heard your light snores and pressed on one more kiss on top of your head. he didn't let himself fall into the arms of morpheus though, already thinking about how he would fix whatever he started tonight.

[daenysx]

For fluff ideas for modern!aemond, maybe something with aemond and the reader at the beach with his family and he thanks the reader for putting up with them but they remind him that loving his family is part of loving him, even if they're crazy sometimes? If that sparks anything for you :)

- aemond-apologist 🐭

thank you for requesting, angel, i really hope you like this!!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, please let me know your opinions if you like it guys <333333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

you hate the way aemond looks upset when he's supposed to have a good time.

he can't help it, not really. the beach days are lovely, when it's only you and him. he enjoys his time with you, he likes when you insist on sunscreen and snacks, he likes swimming and holding you close to his body under water. you still smile though, nothing stops your smile when you're with him. even his fucked up family.

everyone seems like they mind their own business but the air is tense. you catch them looking at each other with somewhat concealed despise. uncle daemon smirks at aemond's grandfather sneakily, alicent keeps looking at rhaenyra, jace and luke are thankfully mostly spend time with baela and rhaena, and aegon- he's busy getting drunk and no one pays him any attention. the only person who sits with you other than aemond is helaena. she reads a new book, looks lost in it.

aemond's father is whole another issue but aemond insists sitting separately from them. you find a quiet place, somewhere secured from sunshine. it bothers aemond's eye when it's too much, you make sure he wears sunglasses. he looks bored, sick of the dramatics of his family, and a bit embarrassed. you reach for his hand.

"hey." you whisper. "are you okay?"

he nods, gives you a reassuring smile. "i'm okay."

"you look sad." you say. "we can go swimming if you want."

he rubs the back of your hand. "i prefer waiting a bit longer, it's still sunny. i can come with you if you want now-"

you are quick to shake your head. "we can wait."

aemond pulls you to his chest. he kisses your hair with a gentle hand on your bare shoulder. at the beginning of your relationship, he was more hesitant to show any affection in front of his family. now, he doesn't care about any of their reactions. it's a nice thing, realizing his time with you matters more. you are happy with him being so comfortable with you, his hands always seek you, his lips always find an excuse to brush a small kiss on your face.

"i brought your book." you say, remembering you took the book from his nightstand when you're leaving the apartment. "it's in my bag."

"thank you, sweetheart." he mumbles against your head. "i can read it later."

you lift your head to see him. his hair loosely tied on his neck, sunglasses covering his eyes. you gently take it off to make an eye contact.

"we don't have to stay here, aemond." you say. "you're not having a good time, we could just leave."

"i'm enjoying." he says. "i have you. don't have to care about them."

"i mean, not because i'm bothered or anything, i like spending time with your family for you but- you look sad. i don't like seeing you sad."

aemond knows you mean it when you say you like spending time with his family. maybe normally you wouldn't wanna be in a room with so many troubled people, he knows his family is not easy but you endure your time with them for him. you're the kindest soul he knows and it's not your problem, he's a big guy and he should handle it if he doesn't want to spend time with these people. you smile knowingly, he kisses your curved lips.

"i'm not sad, i promise." he says. "i'll be better when we swim. i like being here with you, you know that."

you nod. he hides you to his chest, away from everyone. he's not gonna share you, he's got into his head too much but you don't mind. you wrap an arm around him to settle down.

"can we have a nap?" you ask. when you wake up he'll be your aemond again.

"of course." he says. the summer breeze is nice on his face, carrying the smell of sea. he waits a second before saying, "thank you for being here. for dealing with all this."

"i love you." you say before closing your eyes to cool wind on your skin. "i don't mind all this. i just love you."

aemond whispers the words back into your ear. he likes when you sleep in his arms, when you trust him enough to close your eyes with him. he holds you until you wake up, that's all he was meant to be.

[ficarcheologist]

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ between us 💭 feyd rautha

WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns

OPs NOTES ⁞ a/n: from an anon request. just a fun lil drabble // Summary: Feyd gives you a gift that you won't soon forget, proving nothing will come between the two of you.

MY NOTES ⁞ This is not my work. If you are the owner of this work and would like it taken down, please provide proof of ownership and I will take it down/redirect where necessary! Link to the fic reblogged on one of my other side blogs.

It’s late when Feyd finally comes to your shared bedchamber. His days have grown longer ever since taking up the title of Baron. He resents that it takes him away from you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made him truly happy. But this burden is his honor and his duty as his uncle’s chosen heir. Though he spends so many hours away from you, he always makes sure to return to your bed and only yours every night. He had his fun with his concubines, memories that he looks back on with fondness, but now? He can’t imagine being with anyone but you. His pets have fallen to the wayside ever since the first time he had you. 

Nothing and no one else could ever satisfy him the way you do.

Feyd expects you to come running into his arms, embracing him as you always do. He is a cold man, bloodthirsty and cruel, but your love and affection softens him. He frowns when he opens the door and sees you standing at the balcony, wearing your nightgown. The moon lights up your skin, making you look like some sort of ethereal goddess. He approaches you, moving your hair off your shoulder to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice.

He turns you around to face him, hands cupping your face as he questions, “What troubles you?”

As if waking from a trance, you blink, meeting his gaze with a melancholy smile, “Nothing, my lord. Everything is fine.”

Your answer comes a moment too quickly and Feyd shakes his head, “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying to me.”

You pause before sighing, “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

The way you ask is so endearing that he can’t help but nod, “I promise.”

“One of your… Concubines…” It’s as if you struggle to say the word, your innocence bringing a smile to his face as he forces himself to hold back a chuckle, “One of them approached me and…” You shake your head, cutting yourself off, “Never mind. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Feyd narrows his eyes, gripping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly, “Tell me.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes, the sight of which has never failed to make his heart, which he once thought to be nonexistent, melt, “She said a weak little thing like me could never satisfy you the way the three of them did. That you’ll grow bored of me and come back to them. That you don’t…”

The way your breath hitches, tears pooling in your eyes…

Rage fills your husband, fire in his veins, “That I don’t what, little one?”

“That you don’t love me. That you never will,” comes your anguished whisper. Feyd lets out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Feyd, please don’t be angry with me, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

He quickly realizes that you’ve mistaken his anger as being directed toward you and loosens his grip, shaking his head though his expression is still furious, “I’m not angry at you. I would never be angry at you. You are the only one who brings any sense of calm into my life, little one. You are my wife. I chose you.”

He releases you from his grip, stalking past you toward the door. 

Your lips part in surprise as you stare after him, confused, “My lord?”

Feyd pauses, turning to look at you, pulling his dagger from its sheath, gritting his teeth, “I have to take care of something, my love. I’ll return soon.”

“FEYD?!”

His grin is bloody at the sound of your shriek, the heads of his three concubines thrown at your feet. Feyd chuckles as you scramble backward on the bed, staring at the disembodied heads with shock. He crawls over your body, feeling pleased when you calm at his touch, your hands resting on his cheeks, still stained with blood. He traces your lips with his thumb, watching as your eyes flutter shut at his touch.

“I will never let anyone come between us, little one,” he rasps, pressing his lips to your jaws, the blood of his concubines staining your skin, “Never. You are the one I love, the one I chose. I never went to see them after I took you as my own because I know their touch could never satisfy my lust, my love the way yours can.”

You kiss him, your legs parting to accommodate his frame as his tongue moves against your own. He’s eager tonight, you muse, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against you. He moves your underwear to the side, fingers stroking at your slit, a wicked smile on his face.

“Seeing your lord husband painted in blood made you so wet,” Feyd whispers, “It seems my little wife isn’t so innocent after all.”

You bite back a smile as he spreads your thighs, mouthing at your wet cunt. And when you close your eyes, your head falling back against your pillow, he lands a slap against your center. A reminder that if you don’t keep your eyes locked on him, what he’s doing to you, he won’t allow you to reach your peak. He moans, pulling you in close, burying his face between your legs, inhaling your scent as he continues lapping at your folds like a man starved. Your fingers twist in the silken bedsheets, losing yourself in the pleasure he gives you, reaching your peak against his tongue, pulling him into another kiss as he crawls over you.

“No woman could ever taste as sweet, mewl my name so perfectly,” he vows, slipping his pants down to reveal his pale cock, already achingly hard, leaking from the tip, “It’s only you, my love. No one will ever come between us. Not even death.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling him rut against you, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he slams back into you, your nails raking down the pale skin of his back, leaving an angry red trail in their wake. Feyd bites down hard on your neck, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark. You take his hand, bringing it to your throat, and Feyd immediately knows what you wish of him. He squeezes, restricting your airflow, smirking at the way it makes your body tense, your peak quickly approaching once again. Your eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, his hot seed filling you.

Perhaps you seemed a sweet, unassuming little thing to your husband’s former lovers. But they didn’t realize that the longer you spent with him, the more your tastes began to mirror those of your husband.

He presses his lips to yours in a kiss, uncharacteristically gentle and yet still so very passionate as he vows to you once again, “I love you. Nothing will ever come between us.”

You grin, moving to lay on top of him, raking your nails down his chest as you whisper, feeling his cock already beginning to twitch against your thigh, “I believe you, my husband.”

Feyd chuckles, hands moving to palm at the flesh of your ass, groaning slightly as you continue your ministrations, clearly not wanting tonight’s fun to be through, “What a greedy little monster I’ve made of you, little one.”

[sister-lucifer]

READ THE FIRST PART HERE 

READ PART THREE HERE

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty but has a happy ending, not explicitly romantic

Summary: It’s been raining all day, and the gloomy weather has you thinking about what could’ve been, and especially what never will be.

Content/Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death/suicide, it’s a little sad, I guess? But that’s it. Reader just speculates on how life would’ve been if the Operator hadn’t fucked them over and gets down about it, but theres a happy ending. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

It’s raining again. Not that that’s new. Springtime out here sees its fair share of storms. Normally you’d observe the rain from inside, but today something inside was gnawing at you for some fresh air. 

The old rocking chair creaks beneath your weight, moving to and fro softly as you watch the rain. It comes down in sheets off the sides of the cover, splattering to the muddy ground and making a shallow moat around the patio. It lands loudly on the old tin roof, rattling and groaning in a manner that is far too dramatic. It obscures anything beyond the perimeter of the cabin and hides everything in a misty haze. 

It’s going to be foggy tomorrow, you think. It usually is when it rains like this. It’ll be cold for the next few days, too, and the ground will be soggy for weeks. Miserable weather, that is. Not that that’s new. 

It’s a good day to wonder, that’s all. You’ve been doing plenty of that lately. A bit too much, maybe, but there’s no helping that. 

You’ve been living out here with Tim for…shit. How long has it been? Almost a year, you think, but your perception of time is unreliable at best. It’s just one of the many things you lost when your world turned upside down.

That’s what it’s really about. The loss. Tim doesn’t like to talk about it, but you know you both feel it, him even more so than you. He was going to go to college, get a degree, and he’d be damn good at it, too. He was going to find a place of his own, maybe adopt a dog, a big old Saint Bernard like he had when he was a boy, the only type of housemate that wouldn’t annoy him. That’s what he’s told you, anyways. Not sober, of course, not even close; he’d never tell you anything that personal without at least a bit of alcohol in his system. He’s been drinking less since you showed up, though. You noticed he was cutting back a couple months after you moved in. You wonder if you’ll ever get him to open up like that again.

But those were Tim’s plans. He was already in his mid twenties when things really went south, you were barely out of high school when everything started. You didn’t really have plans. So…what are you mourning, exactly? 

You don’t really have an answer to that. 

You didn’t really have a set path for yourself. Your plan barely existed, and it’s feeble skeleton was little more than an intention to simply float around until something caught your eye. You’d find your way eventually, there was no need to worry. At least, that’s what you used to think. 

Now where do you go?

You didn’t have any real plans, no, and you can’t mourn something that never existed, but it there’s this heavy feeling that comes with knowing you’ll never be able to choose. 

That’s what it comes down to, you realize. Choice. 

No, you didn’t have any plans, but that was because you had all the options you could ever want. Now, you don’t have any plans because you’ve only got one. 

Tim does everything he can to keep you entertained out here. Hell, he risks his life every time he walks down the path to his truck to go to town for you, or when he just steps off the porch to refill the bird feeder he knows you love to watch. Nothing outside of these walls in these woods is safe. If it weren’t raining so hard, he’d tear you a new one for even sitting on the porch. 

It’s a miserable existence, but it’s so nice to have someone to be miserable with, even if he can’t change anything. 

You just wish that was enough to push away that yearning for more, that subtle thrumming ache that only wells up in your stomach late at night, that want that urges you to just take the truck and leave, to forget this cabin and Tim and everything in these godforsaken woods. 

But you can’t. 

You’d die. And even if you didn’t, the guilt of stranding Tim would eat you alive, especially knowing he’d kill himself before letting that thing get him. 

You don’t want to think about that. You push the thoughts away before they can take root in your mind. It’s better to just not consider that possibility at all. 

You jump when you hear the front door open. You look back to see Tim standing there, one hand buried in his pocket and the other still on the door handle. 

“The hell are you doin’ out here?” He huffs, “I been yellin’ for ya, thought you up and ran off.” 

You give him a weak smile, but you can’t keep it up for very long. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, curling up as if trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You mumble an apology, but don’t look at him. 

He pauses, then, and you can imagining his expression changing to confusion and then concern before he covers it up again. His footsteps come up behind you, the wooden porch creaking beneath him. His hand grabs the back of the rocking chair and forces it to still before he pulls it backward to get a look at you.

“…What’s up with you, kid?” 

You shrug. It’s an easier response than an explanation, but it doesn’t satisfy him at all. 

“C’mon, we both know that’s bullshit,” He says with a dry chuckle, and he’s entirely correct. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sigh, thinking for a moment about your answer. 

“…It’s just…I dunno. Do you ever, like…think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…you know…”

It’s a stammering, stumbling attempt at explaining yourself, but he understands. He nods, crossing his arms and leaning back against the house. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replies, scratching at his stubble, “But if I’m bein’ honest, it ain’t gonna do you any good. That sorta thing only gets ya down.”

He’s right about that, too. If only it were that easy to just stop. It’s just so hard not to wonder at least every once in a while, it’s human nature. You just wish you knew when to stop. You just wish you were able to ignore the ‘what if’s that piled up in the back of your mind until they couldn’t stand anymore and toppled over into a pathetic mess of rubble. They’ll crush you one day if you aren’t careful, but such an idea seems almost inevitable. 

“Do you think—“ You start, but stop short before you can get any further. Tim quirks a brow, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that skeptical face. 

“…Do I think what?” He asks. 

You hesitate to answer. Is this really a question you want to ask? If this starts an argument you won’t be able to take back, will it ruin the comfort you and Tim have finally managed to establish with each other? You can’t just not tell him now, though, or you’ll just piss him off more. He doesn’t care for secrets, but he can’t stand when someone wusses out of a conversation at the last second. 

“…Do you think if you had the chance you would…like, go back in time? If you could make it to where none of this ever happened, would you?”

You feel stupid asking that, and it doesn’t help that Tim is silent for far too long before he answers. You’re already regretting this. 

Tim finally opens his mouth, and he stammers for a few moments before his sounds turn into words.

“…I don’t really think I can answer that, kid. That’s a tough one.” 

He sounds monotone, almost uncaring, but you can tell he’s doing it on purpose

to conceal whatever he doesn’t want you to know he’s feeling. You finally turn to look at him with a look that says ‘Can you please try?’ 

His eyes widen for a moment, his shoulders tensing in that subtle way they only do when he’s scared. His lips part slowly, and it sounds like he’s forcing his next words out. 

“I don’t know. Maybe? I…”

He trails off, and you turn away again. Then there’s silence for another few moments. 

Then he’s beside your chair, slowly lowering himself to sit down and doing that annoyed groan he does anytime he has to strain his back. He takes a moment to get comfortable, and you see him reach for his pocket to grab a cigarette only to sigh in disappointment when he realizes he left them inside. You feel bad for smiling, but at least he won’t be able to hide behind his smoke the way he likes to when a conversation makes him uncomfortable. 

He accepts his fate, leaning back on his hands and staring out into the rain with you. 

“I might,” He finally says, “But it wouldn’t be an easy choice.” 

“Why not?” You ask, and for some reason he chuckles at that. 

“Good question. This isn’t how I expected things to end up, no one does, but…I couldn’t just up and leave this.” 

‘This’ he says. ‘This?’ That hardly answers your question. You quirk a brow at him, and he begrudgingly continues. 

“You know, I just…I’ve gotten attached to all this—“ 

“What’s this, exactly?” You interrupt, and he winces like he was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “I can’t imagine there being anything here worth sticking around for.”

“…There wasn’t. Not for a long time,” He says, and now it’s your turn to pause. 

“…What did you say?” 

“There wasn’t,” He repeats, “Not until…not when I was alone. But now…” 

‘You,’ you realize that’s what he’s trying to say, ‘You are the only thing worth staying for.’ 

For some reason, that hurts. Maybe you feel guilty that you ever thought about leaving him, or maybe you feel bad that you of all people are his only friend. The bar for happiness is really low around here. 

You slowly unfurl from your spot on the chair, letting your feet rest on the porch as you slump down a bit. 

“So…you’re saying you wouldn’t?”

You expected an immediate answer. Stupid of you, really. He’s hesitating again. You’d thought you’d get a quick yes or no. You’re not sure if this is better or worse. 

“I’m not…saying anything,” Tim assures you, “I’m just saying that…I’d at least have to think about it.” 

“Yeah, but you have to make a choice,” You say with an eye roll, and the words coming out more forceful than you intended. Fortunately, his stoney exterior deflects any vitriol you could spew at him. 

The silence that settles over you this time is heavy. It makes you slump even further down in your chair. You hate the silence that always follows when you say something that turned out far too mean. 

You don’t breathe until Tim speaks again.

“Okay, yeah…I would.” 

You don’t know how you feel about that answer, but you don’t have much time to think before he continues. 

“But only because I’d know where to find you this time.” 

That surprises you. You sit back up in your chair, looking down at him with an unmistakably confused look. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, and your cheeks warm a bit when he chuckles at your noise of bewilderment.

“I’d do it, yeah, but I couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself,” He explains, “I’d do it, but I wouldn’t abandon you. Now I know who you are, what you liked to do, where you’d hang out, all those things from before shit hit the fan. I just don’t want you to think I’d, ya know…forget about you like that. I’d come find you, that’s all. I think we’d find each other anyways, though.”

Something in your chest aches as he speaks, and it makes you want to curl up again, but you can’t move. You stare at him for a long few moments, and you’re lucky he doesn’t look up at you because you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. You can’t even blink. 

“I told you kid,” He adds, “I care about you. I always have.”

What do you say to that? 

You don’t know, so you stay silent. You want to say something, to return the monument of emotion he’s just offered to you, to somehow express reciprocity, but you don’t know how. You’re silent. 

You don’t move as Tim stands back up, cracking his back and stretching his legs. He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. 

“I gotta go start dinner,” He says curtly, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don’t spend too long out here. If you get sick, Imma say I told you so.” 

You nod, but give no further response. He pulls his hand away, and you think that’s the end of it, but just as you realize you haven’t heard him go to leave you feel him leaning over you. 

You tense. You’re not sure why, but you do. 

You feel him press a brief kiss to the top of your head before he pulls away again. It wasn’t even a kiss, really, he just pushed his lips against your head for a moment, but for that moment it was like everything you’d ever worried about up until that point was arbitrary. It doesn’t last long, but it lingers in the air like the smoke from Tim’s cigarettes as he pulls away and walks back into the house. 

You’re alone again.

Now what? 

You weigh your options for a moment, but once Tim’s footsteps disappear into the house it feels far too quiet out here, even with the rain beating down on the roof above you. 

You wait for only a few moments more to make sure you won’t seem too eager to follow him before you get up, lazily making your way back inside. 

You find yourself wondering again, this time about what Tim is making for dinner tonight, and you take a second to appreciate the pleasure in such simple problems. 

There are things that will never be now, and there’s no changing that.

But for tonight, this is pretty damn nice. 

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