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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Man Called Danger 5

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can’t be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your phone flashes. That's odd. You don't get calls. You make them when there's a work order stuck or supply issue. It's the managers that field the incoming ones.

More out of the ordinary is the caller display. It's only four numbers. You pick up. You answer with the department name and your own.

"Hey, sweetheart. Bring me another coffee? I'm caught up in something." Walker's voice drones through without pretense. 

You tense and glance over at his office door in disbelief.

"Don't knock. Just come in." He continues. "Thanks."

You frown as the line clicks. Great. Give an inch, trampled for a mile. 

Just do it. The quicker you are, the quicker you can get back to work. You get up and drag yourself to the break room. You tap around on the screen until you think you have the right one.

You take the cup and steel yourself. You leave the break room and cross the office. You glance around at the other desks. No one notices, there too engrossed in their own work.

You approach Walker's door. You hesitate. 'Don't know.' It feels wrong. You push the handle down and enter cautiously.

He's at his desk, lazily swiveling, elbow on the arm rest, pinky to his lip. You near as he peeks at you and points to his desk. You put the cup down and he winks.

You have no space for a response, not that you can think of one but a scowl. You keep that to yourself as the virtual meeting on his screen continues; conversations about budget and projections. You happily retreat, shutting the door softly in your stead.

You go back to your desk. You adjust it and refocus. There's enough work to do without worrying about coffees and managers and men on motorcycles.

Exactly. Don't think about him. You do your job well and you go home and mind your business.

The hours tick by with the click of the mouse and the clack of your keyboard. Your phone vibrates. It's Eva.

You answer.

"Hey, um... where are you?" She asks.

"Oh shoot. I forgot to message. I'm working a little late." You look over at Maxine as she packs up. "Things are a bit thin here."

"Well, that's no worries. The managers were chatting about happy hour..."

"Happy hour?" You repeat cynically.

"Promise, one drink only but it's a good chance to network. My boss said everyone goes." She babbles.

"Your boss," you nod with a tut.

"They're professionals."

"You're an adult. I told you. Make your own decisions. Let me know later if you need a ride. I should be done by then..." your voice trails off at the shadow behind your monitor. "Er, have fun. Talk later."

"Alright. Bye--"

You hang up and put your phone screen down. You hit the button to lower the desk, though Walker easily sees above your display. You raise your brows curiously.

"Did you still need me to stay, sir?" You ask.

His mouth slants and the line of hair above it too.

"If you don't mind getting the new work orders done, you're free after," he assures. "On my way out to a business dinner. New client."

"Okay," you wonder why he's telling you all that. 

"You can send me an email just to confirm," he intones.

"Will do."

"Well, see you tomorrow. Bright and bushy?" He drawls.

"Alright. See ya, sir."

"See ya," he echoes and taps two fingers on your desk before he departs.

He struts out but you're just as quickly rapt in your work. You don't feel like spending more than two hours on it. Doing other people's work is never easy. Most of your coworkers aren't very organized.

As the office empties out, a stolid desolation trickles in. Your typing and clicking is the only noise aside from the occasional scuff of your shoe. You just have to confirm the supplier and you're good to go. Not too late to toss a microwave dinner in. 

Your phone buzzes. It's seismic in the silence. You answer without checking the display. 

"Eva--"

"You still at the office?" Walker's baritone stifles your assumption.

"Just about to head out, sir." You sniff. Where did he get your personal number? He'd have to dig around the employee rolls, with a but of help from HR.

"Great. Can you do me a favour, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. You bite back a dry echo of the pet name.

"Sir?"

"You know I was in such a hurry, I forgot to grab my wallet. Bit of a problem since I offered to treat the new client." He sucks his teeth. "Figured if you're there, it wouldn't be too much."

You're quiet, mulling your options. You could say no but you don't think even the overtime would have that going over well. You should. It's beyond your hourly obligations.

"Down at Martine's. Thanks."

He hangs up without your acquiescence. You look at the ceiling and grimace. Damn. Just do it.

You put in the last numbers and shut down. You grab your bag and check that you have everything. Your lunch is mostly untouched.

You stop again in front of Walker's door. Wouldn't he lock it up? Nope. The handle gives and you slowly enter. It's eerie.

You flip on the lights and quickly cross to the desk. The wallet sits right on the corner. As if put there intentionally. You scoop it up and flee.

You hate this. You won't say so. You asked for a favour and got one. It's the least you can do.

As you come outside, the rumble of an engine puts you on edge. You're reminded of life beyond the spreadsheet. Walker is the least of your problems but you don't see that other one riding around on his bike.

You put the GPS on to find your way. You don't frequent the overpriced eat-ins. The drive is shorter than you anticipate but that hardly assuages your agitation. You can't tell if that constant drone is your paranoia or some lurking shadow.

You park along the curb and peer up at the marquee. In and out. Then home.

You get out and grip Walker's wallet tight. That rolling roar fades. You step up on the sidewalk and march to the door. You're kept from the door by a sudden barrier. It's him. That man; Bucky.

He is short his usual leather jacket. Instead, he wears a sleeveless black shirt, that same gold medallion over his chest. He smirks at you.

"Date night?" He asks, a hand on his hip.

You frown. You bristle and press the leather wallet against your leg. "None of your business. Excuse--"

You try to sidestep him and he moves with you. You back up.

"Please. I just need to get inside."

"Uh huh. Sure. Not eating alone, are we?" He asks.

You huff. "Respectfully, it doesn't matter. Now please--"

"Nice place. You think they got steak? I could buy you a nice filet--"

You blink. His blue eyes taunt you as his cheek dimples beneath his thick stubble. You can't help but notice the strength in his exposed shoulders and set in his squared jaw.

"Not tonight."

"You worked late. I got it." He slithers. "How about another night?"

You tap the wallet against your thigh impatiently. The tick draws his attention yet the way his eyes scale back up, makes your insides crawl. You lift your chin.

"Excuse me. Please."

He chuckles. "Hard lady. Respect that." He reaches for you and you flinch. He caresses your cheek and bends to look you in the face. "Not tonight. Got it."

He licks his lips and pulls away. You furrow your brow and wince away from him. He doesn't try to stop you as you pass. 

You hold back the shudder until you're inside. You blow out the tension and tell the hostess you're looking for Walker. She checks the tablet then points you into the dining room.

You follow her. The diners are in suits and dresses and your in your office casual. You don't care to be one of them but it doesn't lessen your dejection.

Walker waves as he spots you. You approach as the hostess steps aside. "I'll have your server check in for drinks."

"No, that's--" you begin but she's already prancing away. You purse your lips and turn to Walker. "I got it."

You put the wallet down beside his empty glass. Your eyes flit over the rest of the table. You thought he was here with clients.

"Thanks," he puts his hand over yours before you can recoil. "Didn't wanna make the others wait around for me to pay."

"Right, er..." you wiggle your hand free and cross your arms. "Well, then, I'll--"

"Sir, you ready for another drink?" The server interrupts your weak attempt at escape.

You back up out of her way. "Sorry, I was just--"

"Sure, same for me, and she'll have..." he looks at you. You stand awkwardly to the side. "Oh, no, I think I should..."

"What was that special? Lavender mojito?" Walker speaks over you. "She'll have one of those."

The waitress smiles and spins away. You dodge her again. You watch her go then look at your boss.

"Sir, I appreciate it but I don't drink."

"One won't hurt," he slaps the booth seat next to him. "You came all the way down here. Least I can do is thank you."

You rock slightly. While no seems the easiest answer, you know better. Mr. Walker has proven himself especially vengeful to defiant employees.

You inhale and shuffle over. You sit on the very edge of the booth. He slides his wallet off the table and leans back as he tucks it into his jacket. He sighs and extends his arm behind you.

"Gonna fall off, sitting like that."

"I'm fine," you assure him, hands clasped in your lap.

The server returns. She replaces his short tumbler with a fresh on, neat and dark. She puts a pale purple elixir before you. You stare at it.

"Well, you'll have to tell me how it is. Never thought of drinking lavender." He prompts.

You hesitate. He drinks from his and you lean forward on the edge. One taste then you'll stop.

You sip the floral drink and your cheeks pinch with the citrus undertones. You feel a tickle on your shoulder and look over at Walker's thick fingers on your shoulder. You squirm. 

He drops the full weight of his arms across your shoulders and you choke. You wipe your lips with the back of your lips. He pulls you closer.

"Sir," you gasp.

"How's your sister doing at her new job?" He grips your shoulder as he traps you against him.

"Um." You stare at the table. You understand. You wish you didn't. You don't get favours for nothing. "She's finished her second day. Seems... to be going smoothly."

His hand creeps down your arm. You go rigid. Your ears vibrate. How long did you avoid me? Avoid this? How long have you spent wary and cautious? Now, look at you.

"Oh, good. Hansen's not an easy guy to deal with," he curls his fingers around your hip. "How's the drink?"

"Flowery," you eke out, digging your nails into the creases of your knuckles.

"You smell good," he nuzzles your hair.

"Sir," your face washes over with heat.

"Plush," he spreads his hand along the top of your ass. "So... it all worked out, didn't it? That little favour."

He angles toward you and his other hand lands on your thigh. "Do I get a thank you?"

"Erm, thanks," you look at his large hand as his fingers rub your pant leg.

"Think you'll like it too--"

A sudden crash makes you twitch and you nearly cry out. The glasses bobble on the table as a black helmet lands in the middle. Bucky stops beside the table 

"Doll, you told me you we're just running in," he frames his hips with his hands. "Got me waiting out there like a chump."

Walker keeps his arm around you. "And who are you?"

"I'd ask you the same, sitting here with your arm on my woman." Bucky steps closer.

"Oh? She didn't mention you," Walker continues to pet your leg.

You writhe in the seat, sweltering in the crossfire of these men.

"I'm introducing myself," Bucky sneers. "Doll, get up."

You can't move. You're horrified. The confrontation has drawn attention from the fellow diners. Worse, there is no good option. Not between either of them.

Bucky grabs your wrist and tugs. You shift and Walker keeps a hold on your hip.

"She's comfortable."

"She's mine," Bucky snarls. "I'm more than happy to make that clear."

He yanks you again. Walker lets you go and slides away. You nearly fall off the seat. Bucky catches you and puts you straight. Your boss brings himself to his full height as he comes out the other side of the round booth. 

Bucky turns to face him, keeping between you and the larger man. He scoffs.

"No suit ever got in my way," Bucky growls. "But I don't mind a challenge."

Walker considers him. The contrast between them is more than size alone, though the both dwarf you. Walker in his grey suit and patterned tie. Bucky in denim and scuffed boots.

"Next time, just tell me you're fucking scum," Walker sneers as his eyes pierce you. "Get the fuck away from my table."

Walker grabs the helmet and shoves it into Bucky's chest. He catches it without wincing and chuckles. He steps forward, moving the other man back on his heel.

"You don't talk to my woman with anything less than respect or I'll cut off that twig you were trying to get in her," Bucky spins the helmet and swings it so swiftly, you exclaim.

The shell cracks across his face and has him keeling over the table. The purple cocktail tips as he growls and cradles his face. Bucky snickers and grabs your wrist.

"Let's get outta here, doll."

[heeheesang]

𝜗ৎ maybe we'll meet at the bar cafe .ᐟ

➜ barista! riwoo , barista! yn , toxic ex! jay . after a break up with your boyfriend of four years ... who would've known that a step in staff would teach you what a man is ?

➜ warnings ! mentions of smoking , cheating

" YN ! YOU'RE LATE AGAIN ... " SUNGHO NAGGED AT ME AS I SIGHED , " I KNOW I KNOW , I'M SORRY . MY MOM CAME HOME LATE AND NOBODY ELSE WAS AT HOME TO LOOK AFTER MY YOUNGER BROTHER . " I APOLOGISED AS I PLACED MY HAIR UP INTO A BUN .

" you should've texted me ... " sungho sighed and patted my shoulder . " i texted myungjae but i guess he's not clocking in ..? " sungho shook his head as i gasped , " only one manager today ? good luck bro . " sungho giggled as soon another man walked in .

" ah ! you must be ... sanghyuk ? from east i assume ? " sungho asked as the ginger head man nodded , placing his bag next to mine as he smiled . " i'm sorry you had to travel to the west ... store is busy and — " sungho sighed as he heard the staff groaning from outside .

" it's okay haha ... i volunteered to come ! myungjae is one of my friends so i'd do anything . i do owe him too ... " sanghyuk intercepted as sungho sighed in relief . " well this is yn , she's our assistant manager and you can come to her any time for help . " sungho introduced me as i smiled and bowed at him .

" well ! i look forward to working with you , even if it's just for a day — myungjae told me alot about you ... " sanghyuk mirrored my actions as i chuckled . " okay enough giggling , get on with the crew . " sungho nagged as the both of us side eyed him before leaving the office .

" you know how to make the drinks right ? our stores have the same drinks ? " i asked as sanghyuk nodded , smiling at the rest of the crew who was on the floor . " alright ..! then i'll have you in charge of the drinks as well . ning , this is sanghyuk . sanghyuk , this is ningning but all of us calls her ning . have fun you two . " i smirked at ning before walking off to the back — helping jay make the pastries .

" he's a cute guy . " jay said with a straight face , not glancing at me once . " he's okay ... he's from the east ! he came down to help us ! " i enthusiastically said as jay clicked his tongue . " so you like seeing other men ? you sound really really happy , what is this yn . " he rolled his eyes before walking off to the oven .

" what do you mean , jay ... plus , it's not like i'm dating him . i'm dating you — " i was cut off when jay pressed a hot pan onto my hand , " dating me ? by what ? flirting with sungho ? eating with jaehyun ? what's next ? going on dates with the new guy ? oh please , yn . "

i held in my scream , " why are you always looking at the bad sides ?! i'm talking with my fucking manager about work , i'm eating with jaehyun because our lunch schedules never clash and don't even bother bringing up that new guy . fuck . " i winced as a few tears dropped from my eyes , running to the sink and letting the water run down my burnt skin .

" i've been with you for four fucking years , jay . four . do you think i'd go on dates or even talk to you if i talked to a guy ?! " i yelled as the whole cafe went silent . " baby , no ... " jay tried to come up to me but the kitchen door opened showing sungho standing there with ning's head popping in .

" is everything ... alright here ? " sungho asked as ning shot daggers into my eyes . " i'm fine . i'm going for a quick break , ning let's go . " i glared at jay once more before dragging ning out the door .

" i just ... i don't even know what's wrong with him anymore . it's like ever since he stepped into university , he became a different person , ning ... " i cried as i held a cigarette bud in between my lips before inhaling it .

" i already told you — it's a toxic man . he's being so toxic that it feels almost as if he's coming by only for emotional support or more . " ning replied as she wiped my tears , making sure her cigarette doesn't get close to my face .

" fuck . i'm just so tired now ... being in this relationship feels like a chore now . he's been hiding things from me too ... his location ... his gallery ... " i looked up to the sky before throwing my bud on the floor and squishing it with my foot . ning did the same , " then break up . "

and that's exactly what i did . the moment i stepped into the kitchen , i looked at jay straight in the eyes before saying — " let's break up . i feel like you're seeing another girl . " jay stopped his actions before reaching out to my cheeks and caressing it .

" baby ... you know i'd never do that . " jay whispered as i pushed his hands away . " show me your gallery then . you're always hiding something from me and i don't want to find out about it the harder way . " i screamed as his face became relaxed , " fine . " he took his phone out and slammed it on the kitchen counter before walking off .

the moment i pressed unlock , a picture of him with another girl showed up as the home screen . it wasn't anyone from his family but his girl best friend . he was kissing her cheek and he had his arm wrapped around the girls waist . i felt my heart drop to my stomach , " you fucking cheater ! get out ! i never want to see you again !! " i yelled at the top of my lungs as i threw his phone to the wall .

he chuckled and took his apron off , " fine . but i won't be sending money to you or your stupid poor family again . " he grinned before bumping his shoulder into mine as he left the kitchen .

i dropped to my knees and held it tight to my chest ... four years . four years all gone , just like that ... i knew ning was right , i should've believed her — but i was just too dumb in love . i cried and cried until i heard the kitchen door open , i immediately regained my composure and wiped my tears .

" sungho ... told me to come and help ? " sanghyuk said as i nodded and gave him a new apron . it was awkward between us , a long silence before he started speaking . " are you okay ..? you seem a little upset . do you not like making donuts ? " sanghyuk asked as i giggled , " i do ..! but , i don't know , just some thoughts in my head . "

" whenever i'm upset , i always think of donuts — they make me the happiest . sometimes i feel like i'm on a donut , swaying in an ocean of glaze . other times i just cry while eating them . " sanghyuk joked as i broke into laughter , " you eat while you're crying ? "

" i don't but ... you laughed ! that's the whole point of it , to put a smile back on your face . " sanghyuk said as he smiled to himself . my eyes softened , we haven't even talked for more than ten minutes and he's this kind ? unlike jay who i've been with for four years ?

" well thanks ... are you just like coming to help whenever myungjae's off ? " i asked as he looked at me before shaking his head , " i'm an assistant manager at the other store too ... i just come by whenever you're lacking staff ! " he replied as my mouth turned into an 'o' .

" thanks again for coming ... we got like half of the customers out all thanks to you . you make drinks really quick huh ... " sanghyuk giggled before shaking his head , " you have a great team so ! " he complimented as we both laughed , chatting away as we continued making donuts .

that's until ... he had to leave for break . " remember yn ! eat donuts when you feel like breaking down , i'll be back in an hour — don't miss me ~ " he joked as i threw flour on him playfully and he dodged it , leaving the kitchen as i was left alone to think once again .

was jay really just a bad guy ..? or was sanghyuk the definition of a man ?

" hey it's you again , " i greeted him for the eigth time in two weeks as i set up the drinks section . " it's me again ~ sungho put me on making drinks . i'm guessing you are too ? " sanghyuk replied as he looked down at me , rolling his sleeves up before turning on the tap water .

" it's okay , i can do that — " i stopped him and pushed his hands away but he shook his head , " i can't just sit and watch you open the store alone ... let me help . plus , i can't let a woman do things while i sit and play my phone . " sanghyuk shook his head as a small smile crept onto my face .

jay never did that for me ... he would always come in late purposely and work only when time starts . it's been two weeks since our break up , he's never been at the store since . his name was taken off every roster and he was kicked out of our group chat .

" so ! it's only you today ? " sanghyuk started as i hummed , refilling the coffee powders . " sungho took an off day today so looks like it's only us two assistant managers running . " i glanced up and smiled at him as he mirrored my actions .

after a while , we finished setting up the whole store and everyone had already clocked in . " okay ! ning and ricky , you're in charge of the pastries , sanghyuk and i will make the drinks , nana you'll be in charge of the front counter and ... myungjae ! you'll assist nana . " i announced their roles as myungjae smirked at me .

as soon as everyone was dispersed to their stations , myungjae walked up to me before bumping shoulders — " so ~ you and sanghyuk ? " i rolled my eyes and slapped his arm lightly , " we're nothing ! he's just here to help fill in . " myungjae hummed before getting serious , " ynie , if you ever need help with getting rid of jay — "

" shut up ...! nana take him away ! " i giggled as he got dragged away , walking up next to sanghyuk as he smiled at me . " i'm guessing you and myungjae are best friends ? " he asked as he placed the blender in .

" more like a trio ... with ning . we've been friends since we were juniors so , they're like family to me now . " i replied as he nodded with a thin smile before i started on my orders .

once we were both more relaxed , i asked him — " so how do you know myungjae ? " he leaned back on the counter , dropping down to my height , " we met since we were seniors . it's been about ... a good two years now . he's mentioned you a lot of times ... "

" oh did he ... " i smiled as he nodded , " also did you know that there's going to be a donut exhibition soon ? would you like to go with me ..? " sanghyuk asked as i looked down and bit my lips ... " i'm sorry am i asking you too fast ? i know you just got out of a relationship and you don't wanna be seen with other men — "

i looked at him as we held eye contact , " i'd love to , sanghyuk . just text me the details ! " i grinned from ear to ear as he sighed in relief . " i'll be sure to . "

" yn , look ! a life sized donut cushion !! should i get it ?! " sanghyuk jumped around in the exhibition shop as i chuckled , taking pictures of him on my digital camera as he hugged the cushion .

" it's cute hyuk ... but that costs a hundred dollars ... you'd be wasting money ... " i adviced him as he sighed before putting the cushion back down , " you're right ... my mom wouldn't allow me to get it either . " he looked down like a sad kid as i chuckled and patted his back .

not even a second later , he gasped before grabbing my wrist lightly and dragging me over to the keychains section . " we could get matching keychains !! " his smile never faded , he really loved donuts huh ? my eyes softened before nodding , " you should get the pink one , i like the blue one . " i said as he nodded happily , taking both keychains and immediately running up to the cashier .

" your total rounds up to fifty dollars ! cash or credit ? " the lady asked — before i could tap my card , sanghyuk whipped his out and tapped it on the terminal . " hyuk ! " i whined as he giggled , " i can't let you pay , what gentleman would i be ? "

i rolled my eyes playfully , " are you guys a couple ? you look very cute together , matching keychains as well ~ " my eyes widened as sanghyuk chuckled , " we aren't ... but thank you ! " with that , we left the donut exhibition as he took my bag away from me and put the keychain on .

i was about to take my bag back when he turned away with my shoulder bag on his arm , " nope ! i'll carry it for you ! " i tried everything i could do to get it back but soon realised how close we were — how close our faces were .

" it's almost seven pm ... your mom has to go work soon doesn't she ? " sanghyuk asked as we stayed in that position , our faces being a few centimetres away . i hummed before stepping back and clearing my throat , " hyunwoo would get lonely if i don't get back soon . " sanghyuk nodded as we headed back to his car .

being with sanghyuk the whole day taught me things . he always tried to help me without me having to ask , even if it was opening a bottled drink , or even missing a step on the stairs . he was patient with me — even when i complained about jay . i felt relaxed for once in my life .

" and .. we're here ! " sanghyuk snapped me out of my thoughts as he opened the door on my side of the car . was i thinking too much that i didn't even realise he pulled up ...? i smiled at him and mumbled a small thank you as i got out of his car .

sanghyuk willingly went up to my apartment with me , bumping into my mom on our way there . " is this your boyfriend , ynie ~ " mom asked as sanghyuk rubbed the back of his neck , " mom ... " i whined in embarrassment as mom chuckled and hugged me tightly , she hugged sanghyuk too — to which he didn't know to respond , understandable though he's an introvert ...

once we bid goodbye to my mom , we soon arrived at my doorstep . " thank you for today hyuk ... i really enjoyed it and i loved how ... kind you are today . you sure do know how to treat a lady . " i complimented as he bowed like a prince jokingly .

" well thank you for coming along with me ... who knows when's the next time we'll ever meet , am i right ? " sanghyuk said as i chuckled , " hyuk ... if you don't mind actually ... could you stay for a while ? i have to settle some admin stuff and i just know hyunwoo would disturb me . " i asked as his eyes lit up , " of course yn ! i don't mind , i don't have any plans either ~ "

a smile was plastered on my face as i opened the door , seeing hyunwoo watching television before running up to me . " noona ! you're home !! " he yelled as i hugged him tightly , " noona , who's this ? " hyunwoo asked as he pointed to hyuk , hiding behind my leg as he peaked .

" i'm sanghyuk , lee sanghyuk ! i'm your sister's friend ! " hyuk greeted himself as hyunwoo followed , " i'm hyunwoo ! park hyunwoo ! sanghyuk hyung , can we watch television together ?! my favourite show is on !! " he asked sanghyuk as sanghyuk smiled widely , nodding as hyunwoo dragged him over to the couch .

" i'll watch over him , ynie ... don't worry ! where's his room ? so i know where to put him if he does fall asleep ? " sanghyuk ran back and assured me as i giggled , pointing to hyunwoo's room before he patted my back , " you got this ! if you need help , you could ask me too ~ "

the moment sanghyuk left , i felt my cheeks heat up — i've never felt this before , not even with jay . was i falling in love all over again ...? this can't be ... i'm falling in love with a person i met a month ago ? i mentally slapped myself awake before taking my computer out , doing the rosters and looking through the ideas of new drinks .

" ynie , hyunwoo slept through the show . i already carried him in bed ... " hyuk whispered as he sat beside me , watching as i slowly fell asleep . " thank you ... hy ... hyuk ... " i stretched my arms as he chuckled , " you're getting sleepy , ynie ... you have work tomorrow too , don't you ? " i hummed at his question as i leaned onto what i thought was my hand .

" let's get you to bed ... you had a long day today , ynie ... " sanghyuk whispered as he stroked my head . " i ... work ... roster ... " i mumbled as he giggled , " okay ynie ... let's go ... " he patted me as i looked up at him , " carry , " i pouted as his eyes widened .

" please ? " i laid back down on his shoulder as he let out a short giggle before carrying me on his back . i guided him to my room and soon i was tucked under the covers , " thank ... hyuk ... " he continued patting my head as my cheeks grew hot . " goodnight cutie . " was the last thing i heard before going in a deep slumber .

YN : guess you're not coming in today ? :(

HYUK : not today ynie :( how's the crowd so far?

YN : not bad ... it's so boring without you here .

HYUK : it can't be that bad .. ning is at work today isn't she ?

YN : nope she called sick last minute ... it's only sungho , myungjae , nana and i today

HYUK : oh no ... since we have some free time , let's chat ? how was work so far ?

YN : horrible . jay walked in with his new girlfriend and i had to stop myungjae from punching him ...

HYUK : he came in today ?

YN : yea ...

HYUK : you aren't ... affected are you ?

YN : not at all ... also thank you for tucking me in bed yesterday hyuk :(

HYUK : that's good ! and no problem ynie ~

YN : ugh sungho's yelling at me , i have to go attend to customers :/ it's almost eight pm , i don't even know why people are still coming .

HYUK : i mean we are working ... but good luck ynie !! delivered

" welcome to — you again . what do you want . " i cursed under my breath as jay smirked , " you . i want you back . " i rolled my eyes , " i'm not falling for that again . " he chuckled , " i know you're struggling to make ends meet yn . the best option you have is to get back with me . " jay cockily said as he rested his arms on the counter .

" i have many options , you aren't involved in it . now are you going to order or not ? " i faked a smile as jay chuckled , " you're harder than i thought you were gonna be . what ? are you dating myungjae already ? it's only been a month since our break up , baby . "

" do not call me that . and you can't say shit knowing you openly cheated during our relationship . four years by the way . so again , are you going to order or shall i kick you out like how you got fired and kicked out of here ? " i stressed my words as my brows furrowed .

" it's that ginger head isn't it ? i saw your posts . are you guys dating ? " jay asked once more as i groaned loudly , " look ! are you going to fucking order or not ?! i have to be home in an hour and you're dragging my time ! and for the last time , i do not want to get back with you , i don't want anything to do with you and i certainly want you out of my life . " i yelled as sungho , myungjae and nana ran to my side , heads peaking out .

" did i ... interrupt something ? " a familiar voice came from the cafe doors that had just opened as my face softened immediately . i ran to sanghyuk's side , " i thought you ended at ten pm ! " i said as my eyes started to get watery and he obviously noticed it when he saw what was happening .

" i ended earlier ... i know you're ending late today and your younger brother would be alone . so , let's go ? " he asked as he patted my back , intertwining our hands as i dragged him to the locker room .

on our way there , my other arm was pulled back . " you know i'm better than him , baby ... please ? " jay begged as i released my wrist from his grip .

i was about to say something when sanghyuk stopped me , " she's happier now . realise how i treat her like a man and you treat her like a boy ? she isn't some toy to be passed around , she isn't a thing either . she's a lady , a woman at that . i heard that you even forced her to pay sometimes knowing that she's tight on budget to support her family ... what a man huh ? if you are better than me in any way , that would be playing with a woman's feelings — something i don't and will never do . " with that sanghyuk slightly pulled on my arm and we continued walking to the locker room .

the moment we arrived in , i started crying a river . memories of jay and i played in my head — the good and bad ones . sanghyuk hugged me , for the first time ever . he patted my head and encouraged me to cry it out . we stayed in that position for about thirty minutes before i remembered i have a younger brother to take care of — and that's when we left the cafe hand in hand to his car and to my apartment .

" oh ... he's already asleep . " was all i said before sanghyuk carried hyunwoo to his room and tucked him in . " you move fast ... " i mumbled as he joined me on the couch . " it's fun . aren't you going to bed , ynie ? "

i hummed at his question before resting my head on his shoulder , " stay here with me for a while . please ..? " he chuckled before nodding , he placed his hand on my shoulder and slowly caressed it as soon i fell asleep .

it's been almost five months since sanghyuk and i ever met . we've gone on a few dates ..? friendly dates ...? i have no idea , we never confirmed it . we've bumped into jay a bunch of times and hyuk would just claim me as his girlfriend ... even tho i wish it was real .

" noona ! someone's at the door !! " hyunwoo yelled as i sat up from the couch , waking up from my nap as i walked to the door and opened it . my eyes widened as i covered my face immediately , " hyuk ?! what are you doing here ... " i asked as he chuckled and put my hands down .

" you look way prettier like this ... also ! i had a day off and i wanted to come visit ... and bring the both of you out , sorry i didn't text earlier . i wanted to come as a surprise ... " sanghyuk rubbed the back of his neck before hyunwoo ran up to me and hugged my leg .

" sanghyuk hyung ! you came back ! " hyunwoo hugged him tightly before kissing sanghyuk's cheek . " woo , do you want to go out today ? and eat some ice cream ? " hyuk asked hyunwoo as hyunwoo's face lit up , nodding like a maniac as sanghyuk and i chuckled .

" noona ! what are you doing still standing there ?! go get dressed ! " hyunwoo nagged as he dragged sanghyuk to his room . i chuckled as i locked our main door , you finally have someone you like hyunwoo ...

about an hour later , a knock was heard on my door . " come in ! " i yelled as i sprayed setting spray and put on some lipstick . " noona ! you're so pretty !! " hyunwoo complimented as he stood on my bed and spun me around . i giggled at my brothers reaction , my eyes then flickered to sanghyuk — who's mouth was open the whole time .

" does it ... do i look okay ? " i asked as sanghyuk just stayed frozen . hyunwoo had to drag sanghyuk towards me becaue i couldn't move either , " you ... you ... woah . " were the only words that came out of his mouth before he eyed me up and down .

" you look ... beautiful yn . you look like a princess . " he stuttered as i chuckled , " thank you hyukie ... let's get going ? " i asked as hyunwoo and sanghyuk yelled in unison . sanghyuk had hyunwoo in his arms the whole time until we arrived his car , " you put ... a safety seat for hyunwoo ? "

he giggled , " yeah , isn't it so cute ? " he said as he buckled hyunwoo up , getting in the drivers seat as he started the car . hyunwoo was asleep the whole ride , being a six year old must be tiring huh ...

soon enough , we arrived at a cafe . it was an aesthetic cafe with flowers filled , they even had a small stall selling flowers — in which sanghyuk bought for hyunwoo and i . " thank you ... you didn't have to hyukie ... " i blushed as we sat down , " i know , but i want to . "

" noona ! i see my friend over there , can i play with her ?! " hyunwoo asked me very enthusiastically as he jumped . i chuckled and nodded , " be safe , i see that yena's mom is there too , make sure to send her my regards ? " hyunwoo nodded before running off to his friend , yena .

" yn ... can i um , ask you something ? " sanghyuk asked as i hummed . " well ... this isn't really the spot to do it but ... we've been talking for about — five months ? and i love spending time with you ... it feels as if you're the only person in the world i want to meet every day , i can't live a single day without seeing you or hearing from you ... i love having late nights at your place and having you sleep on my shoulder ... i love seeing hyunwoo happy , i love seeing you happy . it has been the happiest five months of my life ... and i want to make it a life time if you allow it . park yn , will you be ... my girlfriend ? "

i gasped as hyunwoo and yena popped out of nowhere , " noona !! say yes !! " , " unnie !! say yes !! " . i giggled , " are you being serious , hyukie ... you know my answer is yes . i'll be your girlfriend ! "

sanghyuk finally let out the smile he's been holding back , he sighed in relief as hyunwoo cheered around us with yena . " my noona is married now ! " sanghyuk and i choked on our saliva , " not yet ... maybe soon , but not now . " sanghyuk assured hyunwoo as he ran off to play again .

sanghyuk held his hands out as i placed mine on top of his , " i love you ynie . " a pop of pink exploded onto my cheeks , maybe even my whole face ... " i love you too , hyukie . "

ʚɞ 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 .ᐟ

➜ @hooneverse @sol3chu @yourssincerely-mimi @reikaxslvr @petralovesbonedo @enhabooks @mwahvvis @jaerisdiction @rairaiblog @jeonginontopforever @cheruphic @amarecerasus @koocreampie @lvlyhiyyih

ʚɞ bonedo 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 .ᐟ

➜ x

ʚɞ tags !

➜ @lvlyhiyyih @seraph1nna @veerooniicaa

ೀ hhs' notes ! ➜ well ..! this was something ... this was a draft from a month ago please spare me if this is poorly written 💔 i love you guys hehe thank you for reading :]

[valkyriejudgement]

BAKUGO KATSUKI x READER

Notes: | My Hero Academia | Not even remotely proofread. No real flow, just a snip of my brain when I’m trying to sleep at night. Do I write for Bakugo? No I do not. Do I have any idea how to write for him? Nope. Enjoy?

I have this reoccurring scenario that goes through my head of Bakugo getting caught up in some meeting before a formal gala and can’t get away from the toad faced business men.

Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero are all waiting for him on the ground level of the agency when you walk out of the elevator dressed to the nines. They didn’t know you were still here, but clearly you were taking your time getting ready.

There’s small talk and Kaminari mentions that if you were the one to go up and get Bakugo, they couldn’t say no or hold him there any longer.

Deciding to take one for the team you fix your hair and arrange your boobs, giving a sexier visage. You look to the men standing before you and spread your arms, “Well, how do I look?”

Sero gives a thumbs up and signature smile, “Like an absolute bombshell.”

You head back to the elevator, heels clicking and hair swaying. If there was one thing all three men watching you walk away could agree on was that Bakugo was in for a surprise.

As you make it to the conference room where Bakugo is being held, you can seen the scene through the glass walls. Bakugo looks bored out of his mind, fingers drumming on a sleek back folder on the table. The toad like men are sitting with their backs to you.

As you approach, you catch Bakugo’s eye. A single eyebrow raises as he takes in your look. His eyes dart back to the men who are still blabbering away.

You take a breath before pushing the large glass door open, causing the men to turn abruptly, “Excuse me, we’re in a meeting sweetheart.” One of them scolds.

You put on your best innocent look and place your hand over your breast, your fingertips dragging lightly over your cleavage, “Oh gosh, so sorry about that! But you see, I need Katsuki.” You bite your lip and make your way to where Bakugo sits, his chair having turned to be more accommodating of your presence.

He eyed your approach carefully only making a noncommittal noise to your statement. Now standing in front of him, you see his full look, and damn does he look delicious.

You bend at the waist, ensuring the lines of your body are tempting and suggestive, your face close to Bakugo’s. You turn slightly to address the toad men again, “You aren’t going to make me go to this Heroes gala alone are you?” You pout and your hand darts out to smooth Bakugo’s tie against his shirt, your hand lingering on his chest.

There’s a grumble from the toad men as they begin to sweat and look uncomfortable with your gaze and your body’s position. “Well, of course not, but we really must speak with Dynamight-“

“And you aren’t going to deprive me of a full night with my date are you?” Your hand grips Bakugo’s tie, pulling him up out of his seat, the both of you raising to your full heights.

“Again, no, of course not-“

“Then I think we’re done here.” Bakugo’s voice is gruff. He’s standing close to your body, a hand resting on the curve of your waist.

You go to step aside to exit the room, but Bakugo is glaringly at the toad men, forcing them to leave with his gaze alone instead.

Once they leave and you are both alone, a breath escapes you, “I swear, I thought they would never leave.”

“Mmhm.” Bakugo’s hand squeezes your side a little tighter, both hands now engulfing you and you feel yourself being backed up to the table.

“Bakugo-“ you begin, but your voice is lost as you bump up to the edge of the table.

“What happened to Katsuki?” He murmurs, nose dragging along your neck. His lips ever so lightly brushing your jaw.

“Katsuki.” You call breathlessly as his lips attach to your neck, sucking softly, a tongue lapping at you slowly.

You’re not exactly what has gotten in to him, but you’re not really complaining. It feels like the two of you have been dancing around each other for years, the tension building to something insurmountable.

His hands trail down your body, gripping your thighs and lifting you effortlessly onto the table. Your dress bunches higher on your legs, halfway up your thighs as Katsuki steps closer. “You come in here, looking like sex on legs, pouting and pushing your tits in my face. Flaunting your ass for those disgusting old men.” His eyes are piercing and molten with a heat that hasn’t been directed to you before.

You struggle to catch your breath at the suddenness of everything. At some point your fingers made their way to the nape of his neck, the pads caressing his scalp gently. “How could I resist when you look like that?” You eyes trail down him slowly, appreciating every inch.

He huffs a laugh, breath mingling with yours before surging into you, your lips pressing firmly together.

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ BETTER THAN YOUR BOYFRIEND! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what happens when your boyfriend cheats on you and you look towards your best friend for help

INFO...jjk men (toji, gojo, geto, nanami) x fem!reader, reader gets cheated on, riding, sending a video to your ex, oral (f!receiving), car sex, kinda cute/some fluff in the beginning, pet names (doll, princess, baby, sweetheart), creampie, possessiveness, choking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

ᯓ★ TOJI

When you showed up on Toji’s doorstep in the middle of the night with tears pouring down your face he was more than ready to kill whoever made your cry. He wasn’t surprised when you told him your shitty boyfriend had cheated on you and not with just one girl but multiple. Toji never liked your boyfriend, he could tell that guy was up no to good from the start, reading him like a book. He’d be sure to beat the shit out of him once he helped you gain composure.

“I’m sorry for showing up so late,” you hiccuped as he wiped your tears.

“Don’t worry about it, doll. You know I’m always here for you.” He gave you a soft smile. Toji hated to see you this way, you were too pretty to be crying over some guy who looked like he crawled from the sewers. “That guy was a piece of shit. You deserve better.”

“But, every guy I’ve been with or tried to be with has done me so wrong!” It only made more tears spill from your eyes. Toji engulfed you in a hug, rubbing your back. “Toji?” You sniffled.

“Yeah?” He pulled away from you, wiping your tears again.

“Kiss me. Right now,” you demanded. You had to see for yourself if what you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks was absolutely true. Toji had zero clue, but you’ve been thinking about him way too much, more than a best friend should, feeling more than a best friend should. And when he planted his lips on yours, cupping your face, kissing you like a starved man, you didn’t quite expect your tears of sadness to be turned into tears of pleasure.

“Nnngh, Toji!” You moaned, his fat tip rubbing against your g-spot with each thrust of his hips. Your arms clung around his neck, fingers resting in his black silky hair.

“Can’t—mmm, fuck—believe he’d cheat on you! His fucking loss!” He growled in your ear, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, hugging you close to him. Your pussy clenched down around him, milking him for his every worth, juices dripping down his length and onto his balls. “So tight, doll—oh shit!” He grunted. Lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room, echoing off the walls around you. “Been wanting you forever, craving you.”

Your brows furrow in pleasure, barely able to contain your moans as you and Toji stare into each others eyes. “M-me too!” You whimper, nodding your head at him. You lips messily interlock, tongue gliding against one another, swallowing each others moans.

“Let’s show him what he’s missing, baby.” He smirks, reaching for your phone on the couch. His thrusts come to a stop, clicking on your now ex boyfriend’s contact and opening the camera to record a video. “Go nice and slow for me,” he says huskily.

Slowly, you move your hips up and down his thick shaft, whimpering when you feel him throb against your walls. Toji angles the camera up, a devious look in his eye. He moves it back down when you start to move faster, you sloppy pussy squelching when you slam your hips down on his. Toji slaps your ass a few times before grabbing it, guiding your hips to go slower once again. “That’s it, doll. Good fucking girl,” he lowly chuckles in your ear. Toji ends the video, sending it and tossing the phone to the side.

“I can’t believe we actually did that,” you giggle, biting down on your lip. Not even one minute passed before your phone began ringing, vibrating on the couch but you were too busy getting your brains fucked out to even notice. “Ah, you’re so deep,” you mewl, the curve of his dick making your back arch.

“Better get used to it cause we won’t be stopping anytime soon.” He placed a wet kiss on your neck, sloppily thrusting into your poor pussy. “You’re my girl now.” He’s slamming your hips back down on his cock, fucking you deeply, making sure every inch of him is coated in your juices. He quickly pulls out, jerking his cock before thick globs of cum coat your skin before he’s inserting himself back inside your dripping entrance. Neither of you noticing the five missed calls and fifteen unread texts from your ex.

ᯓ★ GOJO

As soon as you called Gojo crying, he basically teleported to your house. When he learned that your boyfriend had cheated on you and you kicked him out, he was the least bit shocked. For the past month you’ve told Gojo that your boyfriend has been acting off, and finally the truth came to light.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned, rubbing the top of your head as you cried into his chest. It hurt Gojo to see you like this, constantly seeing you get hurt by these shitty guys who didn’t know any better. He had a massive crush on for the longest time and he’s always been afraid to say anything. He’d treat you better, treat you the way you’ve always deserved.

“I just don’t it, Toru! Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You frowned.

“No, no! It’s not you all! You’re absolutely perfect. He’s a fucking asshole for not seeing that sooner. You’re kind, funny, smart, and beautiful. You’re everyone’s dream girl, y/n.” It may have sounded like he was only trying to be nice, but in reality he was speaking from his heart.

“Awe, Toru, thank you,” you giggled through your tears. Gojo looked at you few seconds, the most sincere expression written on his face.

So how, in only a few minutes, did he make you go from giggling to moaning like bitch in heat?

“Feel better, princess?” He mumbles against your cunt, sucking on your swollen and sensitive clit. “Please tell me you feel better,” he whines.

“Toru—mmph! What’s—ah! Oh my god!” He slides his long, slender fingers into your sopping hole, pumping them in and out, curling them up slightly. Your jaw falls slack at the way his tongue expertly explores your folds, licking up every last drop of your essence. Your hand clings to his fluffy white hair, his hands pushing your legs open each time they threat to close around his head.

“Taste so good, princess. Just like I imagined—mmm,” he moans at your delectable taste, ignoring the way your squirming in his hold and clenching around his fingers as your second orgasm approaches. His captivating eyes flutter open to look at you, watching the way you lose yourself on his tongue. He could tell your boyfriend—ex boyfriend has never pleasured you like this before, let alone made you cum.

“Fuck!” You gasp. “Feels so good—hah, shit! Toruuu!” You cry out, legs quivering when the tip of his tongue runs back and forth over your clit.

“Promise me something, yeah?” He moves his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole slowly, bringing you right on the edge. “Be mine? I’ll treat you so good, princess. Been wanting to for the longest time, god, you’re so fucking perfect. Please?” He presses soft kisses to your thighs that make your breath hitch.

“You’re confessing now?!” You chuckle, trying to catch your breath.

Gojo smiles up at you. “Is that a yes?” He quirks a brow. He presses the pads of his fingers against your g-spot massaging slowly.

“Ah,” you bite down on your lip, “you’re no fair!” You run your fingers through his hair. “It’s a yessssuhh.” You’re barely able to get the word out before he dips his head between your legs again, his wet tongue circling your clit. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m cumming again!” Your head is thrown back as your entire body shakes with pleasure.

“Thank you, princess,” Gojo murmurs.

ᯓ★ NANAMI

Nanami noticed you haven’t been yourself for the past couple of days and he didn’t dare to ask but he had a feeling it had something to do with that obnoxious and egotistical boyfriend of yours. It always had something to do with him no matter what. He didn’t think of it when you asked him if you can come over and watch a movie, but not even five minutes in the door you start explaining everything. You didn’t cry, just talked and talked about it, venting about the situation. He was glad to be an ear. He’ll always be here to help.

“I’m just so frustrated and I hate feeling this way!” You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe you need to deal with it in other ways rather than venting,” he suggested.

“Like what? Drinking my problems away? I’d rather not.” You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal.

What didn’t cross your mind was the fact your best friend was talking about having you bent over, fucking you into the mattress. “K-Ken! F-fuck!” Your eyes squeeze shut when he thrusts his hips harder, the tip of his swollen cock pressing into your sweet spot.

His thick fingers squeeze into your plush skin, pulling you back onto his cock. He leans over next to your ear, breath fanning against your skin sweaty skin. “He doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. Not like I do.” He peppers kisses down your back, a contrast of you screaming his name.

Your walls squeeze around him at his words, your pussy somehow growing wetter than it already was, creating a sloppy and sticky mess where you two met. Your hands grasped the sheets below. “Yes, Ken, handle me, show me you can handle me!” You grit your teeth, looking back at him.

A feral growl escapes his throat, blonde hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He reaches a hand down, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushes your head into the mattress, the sound of skin to skin slapping against each other growing constant as he fucks your hard and deep with such a grueling pace. “I can handle you, sweetheart,” he chuckles deeply. “Better than your boyfriend.” He licks his lips.

“Mmm—ah, yes!” You laugh with a smile. “Ex.” You’re quick to correct.

“Who gives a fuck what he is—hah, shit, sweetheart, gripping me so damn tight.” He’s so focused on the way your ass ripples against his hips, addicted to how warm and wet your cunt is. It was hypnotizing. Your jaw hung open, eyes rolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth and onto the bed below you. Each rut of his hips had you going stupid, barely able to think.

Successfully, you can say that his method of dealing with your problems has worked better than you could’ve imagined. “Feel so good inside me! Don’t stop!” You cry out, voice wavering. The stretch of his cock against your gummy walls had you craving more. So much more to the point you wanted to feel all of him. “Cum in me.” You’re bitting down your lip so hard you’re afraid you’ll draw blood.

Those three words have Nanami’s eyes wide in excitement. His body runs hot, your words making the blood rush straight to his pulsating cock. “D-don’t say stuff—mmph—like that,” he grunts.

“I thought you could handle me?” You’re smirking, playing with fire. His rough hands grip onto your hips harder, hard enough to leave bruises. Each thrust of his ragged hips shoots bolts of pleasure through your core.

His brows furrow in concentration, grunts and growls mixing in with your moans as his abs tense up, body jolting forward as his sloppily thrusts into your greedy hole. “I can handle you better than anyone else and you know it!” His hand swats your ass, a loud smack cracking in the air. “Nngh, shit!” Before he knows it, his tip kisses your cervix, pulling you back on his cock as his hot cum paints your walls.

ᯓ★ GETO

When you told Geto about your boyfriend cheating on you, he knew you’d needed to be comforted despite what you said. So he planned a day just for you to do your favorite things in attempts to take your mind off of things, but he could see that you were still thinking about it deep down. The both of you sat in the car, watching over the city lights while music quietly played on the radio. The orange sunset casted a hue over the world, shining brightly.

“I’m sorry I just can’t get it out of my head.” You pout, fiddling with your fingers. “I appreciate you doing this, Suguru.”

“Of course, y/n. It’s the least I could do.” He gave a half smile, caressing your back.

“It just keeps replaying over and over in my head,” you shut your eyes, “I hate it. Nothing takes my mind off of it no matter what!” You ran your hand over your face, slouching in the passenger seat.

“Well, there’s something we haven’t tried yet.” Geto raised a brow, shrugging his shoulders.

“What?” You asked, confused.

Minutes later your knees are to your chest, the sheer force of his hips rocking your body into the seat of the car. Strands from his messy bun cling to his forehead, sweat dripping between the divots of his abs. His calloused hand presses down on your lower abdomen, the pad of his thumb reaching down to rub your neglected clit. “Sugu!” You cry out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

The car shakes with his feral and animalistic thrusts, the curve of his cock finding your sweet spot, knocking the breath out of you. You’re panting and gasping, clawing at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” His lips quirk up into a smirk, his hand reaching out, slipping his fingers into your mouth to suck on. “Let it all go for me.” He moves at a rapid pace, your eyes rolling back and your body going limp, hands falling to your sides.

He removes his fingers from your mouth, his hands gliding down to your throat, fingers ghosting over your skin before he carefully wraps his hand around it, gripping it firmly. “I’ll make you forget everything about him. You want that, don’t you? Fill that pretty little head of yours with nothing else but me.” His sultry words send shivers down your spine. A devilish chuckle escapes from him when he feels you flutter around his throbbing length. “Nnngh,” he plants a wet kiss on your jaw, “cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m cumming!” You scream, eyes widening at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Yes, yes!” You squeal, legs shaking as he continues to rub your clit, dragging every last bit of your orgasm out of you.

His heavy balls slap against your ass at a rough pace, threatening to spill his seed inside of you. “Want to mark you, show that asshole who you’ve always belonged to!” Sinful eyes stare back at you.

Fat tears roll down your cheeks. “I’m yours! I’m y-yours! Ahh!” He puts more pressure on your clit, your body jolting, squirming beneath him.

“Hah, fuck, baby!” He moans, jaw falling open as he tosses his head back. He clenches his jaw, grunting as he keeps the same fervent tempo. He watches the way your filthy pussy clings to him so tightly, your juices forming a ring at the base of his cock, creating a sticky, slimy mess. His thrusts grow hasty, hungry for his orgasm, itching to see you coated in his cum.

He bullies his cock into your cunt, snarling and moaning at how rapidly his orgasm was nearing. He pulled out of you with a drawn out moan and instinctively your soft hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him until you felt warm cum drip onto your stomach.

[teojira]

[Click Click Boom] [Shadow x Reader short stories]

Summary: You're set to be Shadow's companion to keep an eye on him and keep him in line, a courtesy from the goverment for him saving the world with Sonic and the others.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic! Shadow/reader romance is implied though! You're human in this, age is vague but you're meant to be in your 20s.

Disclaimer: Shadow is an adult, and as for the furry debate, he's literally an adult who can consent and is sentient, don't like? Don't read!

A/N: I've literally been obsessed with this fucker since I was a literal child and it's the first time I've written for him!! The trailer yas me going insane. This is written well before the movie has come out, literally all I got to work with is Shadow in the trailer and the bits and pieces of info I psychoanalized so I don't wanna hear shit about it not being accurate tbh, this is self indulgent!!

Shadow isn't the worst task you've been assigned, you both are more akin to awkward roommates more than anything.

I'm talking randomly lingering in the corners of the room, his bright red eyes glowing and they always seemed to be locked right onto you.

You screamed the first dozen times, but now you just glare at the black hedgehog and spit out a "fuck you." and go about your business.

He'll never admit that it brings him infinite amusement, it's hard to tell, but the huff he lets out is evidence enough.

Shadow will never admit he cares for you, he loses everyone he cares for, and humans don't live that long. It's terrifying to think about how much he's come to like you.

He's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is.

You're sitting down at the dinner table, typing away on your laptop, editing the mission report from the other day when Shadow makes his way towards you. Sending him a nod in his direction, you don't think of anything when he moves in close.

A huge slam takes you off guard though, jumping damn near out of your skin as you twist your head to look at him.

"What the fuck-"

"Take it."

It's one of Shadow's guns, his emblem being engraved along the stock.

"What? No, I have guns." You raise an eyebrow at the hog, his face is perfectly still, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to grab the heckler.

"Your guns are worthless, you need something better."

"Well excuse me, I so happen to like my guns." You try and joke back, but the offense is taken.

Shadow rolls his eyes so hard you're scared that he's gonna blind himself. Jutting his chin towards the table once more to get your focus back onto it.

"If you have one of mine, I know you're safe." He doesn't elaborate. Not that he needs to.

"...Thank you, Shad."

All you get is a grunt in response, and he's on his way back to his room.

Gingerly picking up the weapon, you take in how pristine it is, a thumb caressing your small initials that you missed on the other side of the stock.

With Shadow saving the world, the reeking of havoc makes it to where he's limited to what he is allowed to do in the public eye.

Not that he listens, he isn't supposed to be out after curfew. But to be fair, it is extremely hard to keep a teleporting hedgehog confined to a meager two-story house.

You can hear him teleport above you, he's on the roofs of the nearby building, leering down at you.

It was a small errand you were on, simply stocking up on the essentials for the house.

Namely, snacks for Shadow, he doesn't ask for a lot other than coffee beans and Doritos.

You are choosing to ignore the fact that he eats the coffee beans straight up, the crunch echoes through your head and it sends a shudder down your spine.

He was adamant against you leaving the house this late, standing in front of the front door.

"No."

"Fuck you mean no?"

"I said no."

"....I don't listen to men."

And you weaved around him to leave the house, ignoring his shout of disapproval.

That leads you both to here now, you pretending you don't see him trailing you from the rooftops as you walk your way back home from the small shopping center.

You feign surprise when he opens the house door for you, begrudgingly sticking a hand out to help you with your bags.

"Oh! Thank you my knight in shining armor~"

"Shut it."

He's never told you his birthday, which you can understand, living for 50 years and not having your family around must be hard. No matter how he may fake that it doesn't bother him.

That doesn't stop you, not in the slightest really. You damn near kick him out of the house for the day, shoving him over to Tom and Maddie's house so he can be with the others. Despite how much he protested.

"I don't want to go over there. Not with that blue fake."

"You don't really have a choice bub, I need you out of the house."

"I don't understand why I have to-"

"Keep arguing with me and I will make it a point to not buy you shit next grocery trip."

It's an empty threat, but he grunts nonetheless.

"...."

"That's what I thought."

When he finally gets home from his long and admittedly overstimulating day with the Wachowskis, he's ready to recharge in his room.

He teleports through the house door, sighing and rubbing at his temples as he moves to kick off his shoes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd chastise him for not doing so.

Something about tracking dirt and rocket fuel into the carpet.

Whatever.

After trying to massage his brain through his fur, he opens his eyes up to see a colorful banner strung across the mantle.

'Happy birthday!' It screams, in its disgustingly neon color palette.

Shadow wracks his brain for any information of it being your birthday, he knows for a fact it isn't today. A friend you're throwing a party for? Well, that makes no sense, he knows very well you don't have many friends, especially any that you'd invite your house up for.

You're antisocial to a fault, not that he has absolutely any room to talk.

He hears you before he sees you, turning the corner into the living room, carrying some balloons in your hands. A stupid little party hat on your head.

"Shadow! What are you doing back so early?"

Kicking off the last shoe, he stands at his full height, staring into your eyes with a shrug.

"I wasn't aware I had a time."

"....fair enough, anyways, fuck, goddamnit. Stay here. Okay?"

And you're off, running into the kitchen, his ears flick at the slamming of the fridge door, followed by the cabinets being no doubt, hip nudging it shut way too forcefully.

He's awkwardly standing there still until you yell for him to come in.

Shadow has half a mind to ignore you and go into his room, but curiosity kills the cat, so he takes in a deep breath and makes his way to you.

He finds you sitting at the little kitchenette, a nervous smile spread across your lips as you gesture to the plate in front of you.

The smell is apparent, it's a coffee cupcake.

The hedgehog feels his ears flick again, staring down at the desert, then trailing his eyes back to meet your own. Wordlessly asking you what was going on.

"You've never told me your birthday, but it's been a year since you've been here, with me. After the whole trying to destroy the world shit. So since you won't tell me, we can kinda treat this as it?" You keep rambling, eyes flitting around the room, very clearly nervous as to his reaction.

Shadow doesn't say anything, or move even. Just staring down at the cupcake.

It looks amateurish, the frosting is lopsided, and the toppings on it look messy. But you made it for him. You even added a big black "1" candle in the center.

He doesn't know what to say, he can feel heat rush through his body, rushing to his ears and his face, and his fur feels constricting.

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck.

You go to open your mouth again, no doubt to apologize, but he beats you to it.

Moving to scoop up the treat, he gently sniffs it before taking a cautionary bite.

A beat passes between the two of you.

"...it's good."

Shadow does his best to ignore the smile that blooms across your face, not wanting to remember just how pretty he finds you like this.

Disgusting.

Shadow doesn't like touch, you know it, he knows it, and everyone knows it. He's threatened to break Sonic's wrist for even so much as patting the older hedgehog on the back. Baring his sharper fangs and hissing out to not touch him ever.

He avoids group hugs from Team Sonic, avoids Tom and Maddie like the plague, dodging every invitation to be a part of the family, it makes him sick to think about it.

With you, it's a little different.

You're not like them, you don't push him to change, you don't have a problem with how closed off he is, giving him space, never once pushing his very strict boundaries.

Something churns in his chest at the sound of you crying in your room, you probably think you're being incognito, holding a pillow to your face to drown out your sobs.

The internal debate is heavy, Shadow used to be able to comfort, to provide warmth, but he hasn't done so in years. Flashes of memories where he would comfort Maria on her bad health days, letting her run her fingers over his quills, to lend an ear to Gerald when he was frustrated about treatments not working.

It's not to say he is replacing you in their place, but it's scary. To open himself up like that again. He can feel his anxiety rising as he goes over the pros and cons of crossing this line. Eyes squeeze shut forcefully as he tells himself he doesn't care about you, that you're an adult, and you don't need to be babied.

His ears twitch when a pathetic little whimper drops from your lips, and his resolve cracks.

You don't look up when he makes his way in, too stuck in your bubble.

Startling a little when two, much stronger and larger hands grab at your own, peeling them away from the pillow. Your puffy bloodshot eyes looking at the hedgehog in front of you, his face set as it usually is, stoic. But his eyes are different, and his body language is different, when has he ever looked at you so softly? It's jarring.

Oh, he's moving closer. Okay. Weird.

"Shadow? Uh, I'm ok-"

You try and lie, it's a pitiful attempt. Your voice is scratchy and the tear tracks down your cheeks aren't helping your plight.

"No, you're not."

He shuts you down immediately, hands sliding up your arms to drag you into him.

The instant your bodies touch, you feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again.

Shadow has you resting against him, your head resting on him as he wraps himself loosely in your arms, giving you the space to move away if you so choose.

It's the first time he's allowed you to hug him, the first time he's ever initiated contact with someone in years. A fact that you both are well aware of.

A sob works its way up your throat, immediately tightening your grip on the hedgehog, curling into him as you shake.

Shadow doesn't say anything, doesn't make fun of you as snot pours from your nose, doesn't point out that your mascara and eyeliner are getting everywhere, just sits there and lets you cling onto him like he's your only lifeline.

He thinks that this is okay, he's strong enough for you both, and you don't need to worry when he's here.

[angelsforthenight]

screen babe, mean babe, guess who’s gonna cream babe!

camgirl!vi x reader (part 1) pt 2 here!

summary: you spend every night in the safe confines of your room hopelessly jerking off to your favourite camgirl, PinkSage. but what happens when your family is providing accommodation to the same damn woman in your house for the summer?

cw: mdni, long fic, pornstar!vi, bratty sub!vi, switch!reader, vi’s name is revealed later in the fic, parasocial, delusional and obsessed reader 😭, cursing, bitchy!reader, bitchy!vi, voice fixation, vi has nipple piercings, nipple play, licking & spitting, use of dildo, embarrassing moments be aware….

a secret. you had a secret. and no, not one of those teensy-weensy mediocre secrets such as you still wet the bed or that you steal from pharmacies — this one is big… or at least it feels big.

each and every night, whenever the clock hits eleven, you find yourself sitting on your bed: cursor hovering over www.butchbabes.com - a website you had frequently, frequently visited before. you click on your following and patiently wait for your favourite camgirl to start streaming, who’s always on time.

PinkSage is a muscular woman who never dares show her face on camera, concealed with a leather cat mask that takes up half of her face. what may come across as bothersome, is enjoyable to you and her many other viewers instead. the fact that you’re not able to see her is what adds to the thrill, the mystery. it’s all a massive tease, and you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve came to her, at one point even damaging your computer because you squirted all over the keyboard!

unfortunately, you live in a world where women are chastised for their desires. easily stigmatised, unlike their male counterparts: where it is normalised for men to be perverted. while a man is just a man for getting off on watching women getting beaten, slapped and choked, women are revolting creatures for masturbating to even the tamest of pornography.

fear crawls up your spine at the thought of anyone finding out that what you masturbate to are masculine camgirls, or at least one camgirl in particular. as a result, you go out of your way to feign complete innocence to the outside world. as far as anybody else knows, you’re a uni girl focused on her studies; nothing more, nothing less. behind closed curtains, however, it’s nobody else’s business that you beseech filthy pleads underneath your breath as you’re close to reaching your climax — as if PinkSage could hear you through the screen. that you anticipate pay-check day, not to spend the money responsibly but instead using it all to gift her; your heart spiking in your chest whenever she’d personally call you out.

“always treating me so good your_user, love you.” she’d say, her voice lilted in a sultry drawl: quiet yet faintly cooing. you hang onto every single word, brandishing them in your head so it lingers for days and days. ‘always’. PinkSage recognises you as being a frequent gifter. you’re so happy, as if you won the goddamn lottery.

you’re obsessed, tremendously obsessed.

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hence, here you are: 10.59 on the clock as you constantly refresh her page to see if she’s on live yet. clock strikes eleven and you see big glowing red letters flashing ‘ON LIVE.’ your stomach flutters in excitement, a feeling you never tire of, and your fingers rapidly fly to click it.

there she is, in all her glory, wearing a tight dark tank top and playboy boxer briefs. the leather cat mask sits comfortably over her eyes as always. you gush at the sight of her. she’s pretty close to the camera, hand hovering over the mouse as she watches all the viewers and comments gallop in like it’s a stampede. her plush lips crackle into a grin, flaunting those perfect teeth. teeth you want nothing more than to suck on. and those fucking fingers?? you’ve never wanted anything stuffed in your mouth more.

“hey guys.” comparable to warm honey: satiny and velvety. you could drown in her voice. “missed me?”

and here goes the comments,

lezout69: YES WE MISSED UUU

tipsyflower: God I was waiting all day

m4niacan0nymous: can you show us ur feet

dykeyfamgirl: today felt long as hell I’m so happy to see you ;—;

orchidstar_: I missed u pinksageeee

girlongirlfanman: Start playing with your nipples now

bluesage111: IMS O FUCKING EXCITED HOLYSHIT IM

they all pop in at the same time. you, however, don’t comment anything, because you know that she’s going to respond with:

“fucking hell you guys need to relax… you saw me last night. freaks.” she snickers. it’s an ongoing bit that PinkSage makes fun of her viewers. audiences always eat it up: they like the idea of being degraded by her, humiliated. you? maybe on certain days. most of the time, you’re not so sure. why make fun of people that gift and pay to watch you all the time? it always rubbed you the wrong way, but because you worship PinkSage like she’s an angel, you choose to not dwell on it too much. after all, some things are for some, other things are for others.

“can you flex your muscles…” PinkSage reads. your heart does a backflip at the sound of the amused chuckle that follows right after. you’ve always admired how much fun she has doing her streams.

“fine. i’ll even do something extra.” she reaches for something on her desk, which culminates in her moving even closer to the camera; pierced nipples hidden underneath her tight top being paraded for everyone to watch. your tongue fleetingly swipes across your bottom lip, an unconscious movement that you find yourself doing each time she does subtle teasing movements like these.

she comes back with pink satin ribbon. “this is for the coquette bitches i see in my comments.”

she curls up her arm, wrapping the ribbon into a sweet little bow around her bicep. she then flexes her arm hard, making the flimsy ribbon tear apart in mere seconds. the comments go crazy.

wiccanyindigo8: OH MY FUCKING GOD???

sullenlambgirl: CAN SHE DO THIS TO ME PLSSSSS

tipsyflower: FUCKCKKCKCK

girlongirlfanman: Nah that shit was fake I swear

angelsforthenight: LMFAOOOOIWANTYOUTOFUCKMESOBADOOOOO

bluesage111: my neck next plz !!!!!!!!!!

m4niacan0nymous: yeayea can you show us ur feet now

abracadabragagafan27: I’m cumming🤤🤤

dykeyfamgirl: SHSJDKDJDNAK

bluesage111: @girlongirlfanman stfu

sweetdazekid: P U S S Y I N B I O 👅🥵💦

you have fun reading the comments, as it’s always a goddamn story; entertaining as hell. these people cannot be real. you have the hypocritical habit of differentiating yourself from these desperate swines, as if you’re not secretly worse.

and of course, PinkSage is already gifted a generous amount from a handful of viewers for that move and that move alone. you’re happy for her, so much so that you’re smiling with her. yes, you’re heavily parasocial, but do you care? no!

“should we move onto the real deal now?” she coos, leaning back on her desk chair and mindlessly swinging it from side to side. she has a flair for wrapping everyone around her finger: amassing almost a million subscribers. there’s six hundred thousand people watching her stream right now. she’s like a mother bird about to feed her children, having all the little baby birds screech and strain for a sliver of attention.

“been so fucking frustrated all day, i need this…” she mutters, her breathing palpably growing heavier as she lifts up her top above the swell of her breasts. you most likely have her boobs memorised in your head, but every time she reveals them it’s like you’re seeing them for the first time. pink buds with metal shoved in between. fucking euphoric.

she catches one between the pad of her thumb and forefinger, slowly rolling it, the tip of her finger rubbing the edges of it too. low groans do not fail to leave her lips immediately. they’re so sensitive that she’s visibly twitching. one of the gifts tell her to flick her nipple and she does what she’s told, a little ‘ooh’ weaselling out of her. without hesitation, the flood gates of your pussy open up, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. you’re only going to touch yourself when she starts to touch herself.

for now, she showers attention on the other nipple; her needy noises growing stronger. you imagine how wet she must be right now, teasing herself like this for the sake of pleasing her viewers. poor thing. your undying empathy for her is why you’re willing to ignore how drenched your panties are, refusing your touch yourself until she starts to pleasure her cunt.

“fuck, i’m so wet.” she whines. her voice always starts off low, but the more desperate she gets, the higher it becomes. the sexiest thing in the world. the tip of her nails are dragging down her deliciously toned stomach, slowly slipping underneath her waistband. you lean back, wriggling comfortably against your pillows as you mirror her actions. despite PinkSage basically having no idea who you are, you’ve always felt so intimate masturbating with her, going along with her pace. in a strange way, it feels like you know her.

you can see her knuckles protruding from her boxers, stroking her clit in tight circles underneath.

tipsyflower: she’s alwaysssss teasing us i swear 😩

the familiar gift noise pings through, a sound of coins jingling.

abracadabragagafan27: (GIFTED PINKSAGE $5.99!) Take the underwear off!

“your wish is my command, baby.” PinkSage twinkles, making a show of slowly pulling her boxers off, inch by excruciating inch. her pink happy trail (yes, the curtains do match the drapes, duh) marshal into the beautiful alcove of her mound, her bush glistening from how soaked she is. she resumes her movements, slender fingers slipping inside her pussy with ease. her knuckles flex as she goes deeper and deeper inside, her jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.

all this and you know she isn’t actually going to cum. she’s merely stretching herself out for the actual real deal. you’ve always thought on why PinkSage appeals to you so much… maybe it’s the fact that she conceals her face, so there’s that uninterrupted enigma and that you’ll probably never know what she looks like. a cruel tease.

or maybe it’s the fact that in a world where butches and muscular women are expected to be dominant and rough, PinkSage has no problem exhibiting herself as someone who leans more onto the submissive side: pliant and self-abasing, whilst simultaneously being mean and not taking anybody’s shit. in a way, it feels revolutionary. PinkSage stands out, and that’s why she’s currently at number one in your trusty ButchBabes website, and why you refuse to watch anyone else.

“i’ll let you filthy bitches pick for me, okay?” despite her catty language, her face is flushed and her chest is heaving. she did just edge herself after all, and in tandem, so did you. she reaches for something below her desk and pulls out two toys. a pink vibrator wand and a clear glass seven inch dildo — each in one hand. she waves them, a smug grin settled on her lips.

“vibrator?” she playfully licks a stripe up the wand, “or dildo?” she does the same, her tongue dragging across the shaft. she knows exactly what she’s doing, she always does. every movement is coordinated: done on purpose to elicit reactions from her audience.

you’re too lost in the haze of your lust to reach for the keyboard, so you merely watch as the majority of the viewers pick the dildo. you couldn’t care less on which one they picked, as long as you got to watch PinkSage pleasure herself.

“good choice.” she praises, throwing the wand away and leaning back in her seat, spreading her legs and giving the viewers an accessible view of her pretty pussy. she rubs the dildo down her slit, smearing her arousal. but she isn’t done: she brings the dildo up to her lips, dribbling spit down the model to lubricate it enough. your breath catches in your throat at the sight. you need to touch yourself, thighs trembling and squishing together, but you compel yourself to wait.

her breathing is palpable, loud and rapid enough to tell that she’s excited. sometimes you wonder if this is all an act, or if she genuinely forgets about the camera and pleasures herself without a care in the world.

she finally sinks the toy in, starting off with short and rapid strokes. the sounds of her sopping cunt are obscene: a drawled low moan leaving her lips as she tips her head back. “fuuuck.”

your own fingers start to move again, a strangled moan buried deep in your throat threatening to loom to the surface. PinkSage is just so perfect, her hips bucking and twitching; lower back arching as she starts to fuck herself with the dildo deeper. low groans quickly alter into high keens and destitute whines, her fingers flying to her nipple and pinching it to increase the stimulation. you curse under your breath at the smutty sight.

an idea suddenly zips through you and suddenly your fingers are out of your pants and on the keyboard. you’re gonna gift her. just as she’s about to cum, you’re gonna gift her and she’s going to orgasm thanking you. how fucking smart is that?

and luckily, the universe hears your wishes.

your_user: (GIFTED PINKSAGE $24.99!)

you settle back, fingers flying back to your pants as you bite your lip, waiting in anticipation for the loud jingling noise to catch her attention. and you’re blessed when it does.

“oh fuck!” she mewls louder at the sight of your gift, the dildo moving faster, “fuck, your_user, th—mmnfg—thank you so much, i’m cumming… fuck, your_user…”

with that, she keens loudly, head thrown back against the desk as she creams all over the toy. in tandem, you cum so hard you see stars. you cannot believe that happened. PinkSage huffs loudly, slowly pulling the dildo out. incomes the white pearly froth spilling down from her pussy and onto the seat. in your post orgasmic daze, you think you’re dreaming, but you dazedly watch the comment section and they prove otherwise.

dykeyfamgirl: wait i’m so jealous???

galadbdhs22: No fuckijf way

wiccanyindigo8: another hot orgasm yet againnnn

tipsyflower: I HAD NO IDEA SHE CAN DO THAT

bluesage111: i gotta try this next.

sallyfacefan: Will she give us another one? i need my name spilling from her lips

jerkheroff: THATS NOT FAIRRRRR

a dopey grin finds itself on your lips. everyone’s jealous. she said your user aloud — your name, mind you, whilst reaching her climax, but not theirs. you’ve been a fan for ages, you know she hasn’t done that with anyone else. you’re special and they’re not.

“no, i’m not giving you guys another. shoulda gotten there before your_user did.” your stomach flutters so hard you might as well float away. “thanks for watching, see you later filthies.” she puts her fingers in a rock and roll sign, her signature goodbye before logging off stream. you stare at the black screen with the white words reading ‘Live Ended’ for a long minute. dare this be the best night of your life?

you sleep extra well that night, replaying that moment in your head over and over again until it lulls you asleep, fantasising on what you would do if you two had ever met. if you had her right in your palm.

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the following morning, you awake with a smile adorning your lips. birds are singing outside, branches of the eucalyptus tree are rustling from the warm breeze. the sun is kissing your eyelids… besides, PinkSage literally orgasmed screaming your name last night. that’s your first pleasant thought of the morning; the way her face scrunched up, eyes half-lidded as she babbled your name. sure, it might’ve sounded like her words clustered together just as she was on the precipice of climaxing, but you alongside the rest of the 600K viewers heard it loud and clear. phenomenal. you almost hate yourself for not screen recording, but you don’t fret; sensing that it’s tucked in each and every crevice of your brain. shit, you’d inject the moment into your bloodstream if you could.

you yank your phone off your charger and take a look at social media. after mindlessly swiping through instagram stories and checking your tiktok notifications, your thumb glides over to twitter. your feed refreshes, and the first tweet is PinkSage’s.

PinkSage @PinkSagee420

hey guys going on hiatus for a bit </3 sorry no stream tonight and more nights to come :(( love y’all tho!

your face has never fallen faster. you sit up, blinking repeatedly and praying that your eyes are somehow proving you wrong. but no matter how hard you try, there it is: imprinted on your screen. going on a hiatus for a bit… love y’all tho! you furrow your brows. you bet she was smiling whilst typing that tweet. she so doesn’t give a fuck. what the hell are you meant to do now? was her hiatus so impromptu that she couldn’t have mentioned it on stream last night? instead of a half assed tweet? love y’all tho! ending the tweet like that is what grates on your nerves the most. if she really loved you, she wouldn’t go!

ugh. you quickly realise you’re being stupid and selfish, and you cringe at yourself. for fuck’s sake, PinkSage could be going through something serious and personal for all you know. you’re just freaking out because it’s the first time she’s ever taken a break. you’ve become so used to your nightly routine, so embedded in your grotty secret that you can’t help but feel as if you’ve been thrown off course. jesus, it feels like a break up.

your mind quickly diverges to solutions. PinkSage already posts some pretty smutty stuff on her Twitter, and then there’s the ButchBabes website — but you’d have to be a premium member to watch her pre-posted, long videos. as tempting as it sounds, having a subscription to a porn website just sounds… ew. you’re not that down bad. then again, there’s PinkSage’s patreon…

the sound of your door swinging open snaps you out of your thoughts, and you jerk your head up to see your dad resting his arms on your doorframe.

“morning. what’s with the long face?” he murmurs. you didn’t even notice your face was stuck in a frown since you read the tweet. “nothing. what’s up?”

“our guest is coming soon. earlier than expected, surprisingly. guess she’s eager to see us.” he smiles. she. at least it’s a woman this time, and one person. the last guests you had were a group of college boys, scruffy and loud and disrespectful, as if they were toddlers. they left your house a mess after!

that’s right, you’re a host family. offering a home and support to international/exchange students or volunteers. well, you don’t really do anything. whilst your parents offer them a bed to sleep in, give them meals and help them transport their way around your area, you do so much as smile at them, occasionally greeting them if you happened to bump into them. most of the time, however, you’re locked in your room. at some points you even wait until the living room is empty for you to go downstairs to eat. you’ve never been interested in making friends with your guests. they’re just there for a house, and you have enough friends.

“better get dressed.” your dad curtly pats the door before slipping away. you sigh, slumping back on your bed to wallow for just a little longer. you’re still very much bummed about PinkSage’s hiatus after all, and not even a female guest could lift your mood.

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you tip toe down the corridor, holding your breath as you try not to make a creak in the old floorboards. you peer down the staircase, straining your ears to hear the conversation taking place.

the guest is here, and she seems to be a goddamn comedian with the way she’s making your parents laugh. even your usually stony mother is dying laughing. just who is she?

you regret not getting ready earlier, because now you’ll have to awkwardly step downstairs, suffer through the silence before everyone’s attention will be on you. you steel yourself, slowly descending down the stairs. you predicted the pause in laughter and chatting before it even came.

“she’s alive!” dad says as you reveal yourself. how embarrassing! you want to flip him off, but you’d get killed.

“oh, is this your daughter? hey!”

your eyes flash up to the woman as quick as light. is— wait, are you tweaking? okay, maybe the PinkSage withdrawals are hitting faster than you think, because that voice and that hair…

“i’m violet, but you can call me vi.” she approaches you and extends her hand, those fingers. nah… no fucking way.

you realise you’re staring at her hand for too long when your mother clears her throat. “y/n…”

“sorry, aha.” you take her hand. she has a firm grip. you dare a glance at her face again. powdery blue eyes and a little amused smile. PinkSage smiles like that…

“she gets shy. oh, and you two are the same age actually!” your dad grins. you cut him a glare, wishing he could shut up. does he revel in your embarrassment?

“are you a student?” you find yourself asking. since when did you give a shit?

“nah, i’m volunteering. animal care.” vi replies, and she sounds very proud of herself. you nod quietly and smile, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“okay. if you don’t mind i’m going to do homework now, nice meeting you.” you mutter with haste, padding back up the stairs. your mother tries to call for you to come back, probably deeming you as disrespectful.

“it’s chill, ‘girls got homework to do.” you hear her say. she sounds so cool, so… suave. PinkSage would say something like that.

you immediately scrounge for your phone once back in your room, whipping out PinkSage’s profile to scrutinise her. there’s plenty of women with pink hair, and vi was wearing a navy oversized jumper, so you can’t even tell if she has the same muscles or not. but that voice… her voice. you zoom in on PinkSage’s hair. her way of styling it is very unique, and similar to vi’s. eerily similar. your heart starts to pound in your chest. what if…? you want to be aloof, in fact, you’re genuinely trying to prove yourself wrong. okay, you’ve fantasised about what you’d do if you met her, like, an innumerable amount of times… but they were fantasies for a reason! who was expecting for her to live in your house for whoever the fuck knows how long!?

your fingers are trembling, and you’re months down on her posts. it sure is a weird coincidence that PinkSage is on hiatus, and suddenly there’s a woman that sounds and maybe looks like her in your house! is this a sick joke? is the universe having fun?

a tentative knock that sounds nothing like the ones of your parents (they never fucking knock) scares the shit out of you, making you whip your head too quick and because your head was too close to the headboard, you banged against it.

“fuck! i-i mean, come in!” you frantically call out. vi is visibly holding in a laugh when she peers through the door.

“are you good?” oh my god, she heard that. your ears burn alongside the pain mingling through your head.

“yeah, i’m—i’m good. breezy.” you close your eyes and nod like a bobble head. what the fuck is breezy?

“…right. you probably already know this but i’m sleeping next door. i was wondering if it was cool if i use your bathroom? i wake up at night.” she smiles sheepishly. you blink at her.

“sure! yeah, that’s completely fine! it’s not even my bathroom per se, i mean my parents just say it’s my bathroom ‘cuz i keep all my stuff there and it’s right across my room and they use the downstairs one, but you’re… hah…” you’ve been rambling so much you’re out of breath! vi giggles. maybe she’s just a really good PinkSage impersonator. that could be it. yeah.

your eyes follow her nervously as she steps closer inside the room, gazing at your cork-board full of polaroid photos, calendars and photo booth strips. her fingers graze the cd player below it, and then she skims through the cds on your crate as if she’s in a music shop. she’s pretty comfortable touching your stuff without even asking…

“nice.” she whips her head to glance at you, staring at you up and down. you swallow.

“i thought you were doing homework.”

you brow settles in a furrow. “… i finished.” you lie through your teeth.

“do i make you uncomfortable or something?” the swift delivery of that question sweeps you off your feet, and you find yourself speechless.

“i would hate to make you feel that way. to be fair, i think i’d also hate people in my house.” she continues, as if this is all so casual. that i-don’t-give-a-fuck mindset is something you’re not so sure you’re rolling with.

“what? that’s— that’s not it.” you sputter, blinking repeatedly. vi smirks in return. “good, then.”

she turns around and leaves, whilst you sit there: dumbfounded. good, then? this vi girl sure is conceited, skimming her fingers over your stuff just to leave like that? what is this, a movie? and leaving your door open, no less! where’s the decency? you bet she was going to use your bathroom regardless if you had said yes or not.

you don’t want to think of vi as PinkSage. whilst the camgirl enacts cockiness as something sexy; playing it off well, this vi woman just comes off as arrogant. they’re different women, they must be. you open your phone to the post you left off at: one of PinkSage’s mirror pics, showing off her back tattoo. you linger on it, feeling like a housewife that’s had her husband leave for war. you miss her already.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you discreetly wait for vi to be finished with dinner so she can piss off to her room whilst you can eat without her amused gaze burning your retinas. as if your entire existence is funny to her. could you blame her? you’ve embarrassed yourself more times than you can say ‘i.’

it’s eleven. PinkSage would be streaming right now… but alas, she’s gone - not even specifying how long she’s away for. you feel a pang of sadness. you eat your food, watching a video essay in the empty living room. parents are sleeping by now, and vi’s upstairs. despite the faint sounds of your fork hitting the plate and the murmur of the youtube narrator, it’s really quiet. you wonder if vi is asleep by now too.

you pad back up the stairs after eating. vi’s door is open and you have to pass by her room to get to yours. a little peek on what she’s doing wouldn’t hurt would it? especially when she entered your room and touched your stuff without hesitation.

but as you fleetingly side-glance, your stomach churns in a way that makes you want to throw your dinner back up. you catch vi in the middle of putting her sports bra on, but it’s not even that: it’s what you see on her back, down to her triceps. the same fucking back tattoo. the same cogs, same plumes of steam, same machine parts… PinkSage. that’s Pink-goddamn-Sage, and you can’t even deny it anymore. evidence is all there: nobody else has a tattoo as specific as that one, nobody else styles their hair like she does, nobody else has that sensual ass voice: inviting and erotic. your favourite thing about her.

“holy mother of god.” you find yourself saying aloud, distractedly. vi yelps and whips around to glare at you.

“jesus, do you knock?” she huffs, grabbing her tank top and yanking it over her head.

“i… i know who you are.”

pt 2 now here!

a/n: very loosely inspired by this fic on ao3 so check it out! it’s been a while since i done a series omg!!! so excited for u guys to read this one ahhh >< i’m thinking of doing three or maybe four parts to this series.

[thighsa]

Hi. I wanted to know if you are working on that Izone Minju idea with old men?

That ask sounded hot, so I wanna know to look forward to it or not.

Request :

SILENCED BY AGE

Kim Minju X Grandpa's Friends

Warning : Non Con Smut (please don't read if you don't like it, thanks!)

CHAPTER 1

Kim Minju, a fresh-faced 23-year-old, stepped off the crowded bus with a gentle sigh, the chilly air of the early spring evening kissing her cheeks as she made her way down the quiet street. She had been a member of the world-renowned K-Pop group, Iz*one, but now, her days were filled with a different kind of spotlight: the solitary glow of a single bulb in a dusty nursing home room. Her grandpa's health had been failing for some time now, and with no one else to turn to, she had taken on the role of his primary caregiver.

The nursing home loomed before her, a stark contrast to the glitz and glamour she had once known. The scent of antiseptic and the distant chuckles of the elderly filled her nose as she pushed through the heavy doors. The receptionist, a plump middle-aged woman with a kind smile, nodded in recognition. "Ah, Miss Kim, you're here to see your grandpa again. He's in a good mood tonight."

Minju nodded and made her way down the dimly lit corridor, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor. She pushed open the door to room 306, revealing her grandpa, Mr. Kim, in a wheelchair by the window, staring out into the darkness. He turned to her, his eyes brightening. "Ah, my little Minju," he croaked, reaching out a trembling hand. "You came."

Her heart swelled with love as she took his hand and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Of course, Grandpa. I'll always be here for you." She began to unpack the small bag of goodies she had brought him, his favorites from their weekly market trips before his health declined. The room was small and simple, with a single bed and a few personal items scattered about, a sad reflection of the vibrant life he once led.

As the weeks passed, Minju grew closer to the other residents of the nursing home, their grandpa-like charm and gentle teasing a comforting balm to her lonely soul. Most of them are widowers, each with stories of love and loss that stretched back decades. They seemed so innocent, so harmless, their flirtatious comments and innuendos slipping past her like whispers in the wind. But there was something in their eyes that made her feel... different. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

One evening, as she sat with her grandpa watching the news, Mr. Park, a sprightly octogenarian with a twinkle in his eye, sidled over to her. "Miss Kim," he began, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You're so pretty, so young. You must have a boyfriend, yes?" His friends chuckled quietly from their chairs nearby, their eyes glinting with mischief.

Minju blushed, shaking her head. "No, Mr. Park. I'm busy with my career." The grandpas feigned disappointment, their eyes never leaving her as she continued to care for her grandpa, their gazes lingering on her curves and the way she moved. It was innocent at first, but soon she noticed the way their glances grew more brazen, their smiles more knowing.

The fateful evening came when Minju's grandpa complained of the cold. She excused herself to the storage room to grab a fresh comforter. The room was a maze of shelves, filled with linens and supplies, and she had to navigate through it carefully. As she pulled out the requested item, she heard the squeak of the door opening.

Mr. Lee, one of the more talkative grandpas, shuffled in, his eyes twinkling with something more than innocent curiosity. "Ah, Miss Kim," he began, his voice a raspy purr. "Alone at last." He leaned heavily on his cane, the room suddenly feeling much smaller. "You know, I've noticed how much you care for your grandpa, how you've given up so much for him. It's quite admirable."

Minju's stomach lurched as she took a step back, her hands gripping the comforter tightly. "Mr. Lee, I'm sure my grandpa would love to see you, but he's a bit tired right now."

Mr. Lee's smile grew wider, his teeth gleaming in the soft light. "Nonsense, I just want a little hug from such a lovely young lady like yourself." His eyes swept over her body, and Minju's heart began to race. Something about his tone sent a shiver down her spine. She felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, and she knew she needed to get out of this situation quickly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lee," she began, taking a step backward, only to feel the cold metal of the shelving unit against her spine. "But I really should get back to Grandpa."

Mr. Lee's smile morphed into something predatory. "Ah, come now, Miss Kim. Just one little hug, that's all I ask." His voice was a gravelly whisper, his hand reaching out to her.

Minju's heart hammered in her chest, the room spinning as she tried to find a way out. But she was trapped, the towering shelves of supplies blocking her escape. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Mr. Lee, please, I don't think this is appropriate."

But Mr. Lee's hand was already on the door, the click of the lock echoing through the small space. "Oh, don't worry, my dear," he said, his voice thick with a lust that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. "Your grandpa's sleeping soundly, and the nurses are busy with their rounds."

He took another step closer, and Minju felt the heat of his breath against her neck. His hand reached out, landing firmly on her ass, squeezing it as if it were a piece of fruit he was testing for ripeness. She gasped, her eyes going wide with shock and fear. His other hand followed suit, cupping her breast through her sweater, his thumb flicking against her nipple. She tried to push him away, but his grip was surprisingly strong for a man his age.

"Mr. Lee, please," she pleaded, her voice shaking, but he was deaf to her protests. His hand moved up to her neck, gently caressing the soft skin as his thumb traced the line of her jaw. His eyes bore into hers, dark with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot and ragged against her ear. His other hand continued to roam, sliding down her waist to squeeze her ass again, his thumb pressing against the fabric of her skirt, hinting at the flesh beneath. "So... young and firm."

Panic surged through Minju as she realized the extent of his intentions. She tried to push him away, her heart racing as she felt his hands moving over her body with a possessiveness that made her skin crawl. "Please, Mr. Lee," she whispered, her voice strained. "We can't do this."

But Mr. Lee was not to be deterred. He leaned in closer, his breath reeking of minty toothpaste and something darker, something that made her stomach churn. "You're just like your late mother," he murmured, his hand sliding up her thigh. "So sweet, so innocent." His voice grew gruffer, hungrier.

With a sudden burst of strength, Minju pushed him away, the comforter slipping from her grasp. She stumbled backward, her head colliding with the cold, hard wall. Stars danced before her eyes, and she felt herself slipping, the room spinning out of control.

Mr. Lee took advantage of her daze, his hands grabbing her shoulders and slamming her back against the shelves. The force was enough to knock the wind out of her, and she felt her legs give way. She slumped to the floor, her vision going dark. The last thing she heard was the rustling of fabric as he dropped to his knees beside her, his breathing heavy and ragged.

When Minju came to, the world was a haze of pain and confusion. Her head throbbed, and her body felt cold and exposed. She looked down to find her clothes torn to shreds, her pale skin stark in the dim light. Her panties were gone, replaced by a piece of fabric lodged in her mouth, gagging her. Panic surged through her as she struggled against her binds, her wrists and ankles tied tight with strips of her own clothing.

Mr. Lee loomed over her, his phone held out at an odd angle. The sickening realization dawned on her: he was recording her. His gnarled fingers traced the line of her body, his eyes feasting on her like a starving man. She tried to scream, but the fabric muffled her cries, turning them into pathetic whimpers that only seemed to excite him further.

He leaned down, his tongue snaking out to lick the salty tears from her cheek. The sensation was so foreign, so disgusting, that she nearly vomited. His hands roamed further, one sliding down her chest to pinch her nipple, the other reaching up to hold her face still as he clenched his teeth around the tender peak. Minju's eyes rolled back in her head as she gagged on the fabric, her body writhing in a futile attempt to escape his touch.

With a grunt, Mr. Lee pulled away, his eyes alight with a depraved hunger. He slid two of his thick, wrinkled fingers down her trembling thighs, pushing them into the warm, untouched folds of her virgin pussy. The intrusion was sudden, painful, and Minju's body tensed, her eyes wide with horror. He moved them roughly, as if she were nothing more than a toy to be played with and discarded. She had never felt anything so violating, so wrong, and the pain was like a living thing, twisting and coiling inside her.

Her thoughts raced as she searched for a way out of this nightmare. She had to get away, had to tell someone, but the gag in her mouth muffled her screams, and her body was useless against the weight of his own. His breath was hot and foul against her neck as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a parody of tenderness. She felt his erection pressing against her leg, and she knew what was coming next.

With a grin that sent a shiver of revulsion through her, Mr. Lee unzipped his pants, freeing his swollen cock. It was a sight she never thought she would see, and it filled her with a mix of terror and disgust. He stroked it slowly, the veins pulsing as he took in the sight of her vulnerable form. His hand moved to her face, the fabric of the gag sticky with her tears and saliva.

"Look at me, Minju," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Look at what you're doing to me." He forced her chin up, his hand pressing against her cheek, and she couldn't help but stare at his twisted expression of pleasure. The phone in his other hand held steady, capturing every second of her degradation.

With a grunt, Mr. Lee positioned his cock between her trembling legs. She could feel the warmth and wetness of her own arousal, despite the fear that held her captive. Her body was betraying her, responding to his touch despite her mind's desperate screams of no. He leaned in, his weight pressing her into the cold floor as he lined himself up with her entrance. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the pain that was about to come.

The moment he entered her, it was like a hot knife sliding through butter. She bit down hard on the gag, muffling her scream as her body stretched to accommodate his thickness. The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced, stealing her breath away in a fiery rush. His grip on her face tightened, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed in deeper, filling her completely.

Minju's eyes watered as she felt him inside her, her mind racing with the horror of what was happening. She had never been with anyone before, had never even been kissed in the way she had read about in romance novels. And now, her first time was being stolen from her by this monster of a man who had once been her grandpa's friend.

Mr. Lee's hips began to thrust, each movement a brutal invasion that made her feel like she was being torn apart. She could hear the wet slap of his flesh against hers, the sound echoing through the small room like a taunt. His grip on her face didn't waver, his thumb pressing into her cheek as he held her in place, forcing her to watch the perverted show he was putting on for his own sick amusement.

Her virginity was lost in a flash, the pain so intense it was almost unbearable. She tried to clench her legs together, but his weight was too much. All she could do was lay there, sobbing and trembling as he took from her what she had been saving for someone she truly loved. His eyes never left hers, the hunger in them growing with each thrust. He was a man possessed, driven by a lust that had been festering for years, waiting for this moment to claim her innocence.

Mr. Lee's strokes grew more vigorous, his breaths turning into grunts of pleasure. Minju felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she felt his cock pulse inside her, releasing a warm, sticky flood that filled her up. The feeling was alien, disgusting, and she felt her body convulse around him. The fabric in her mouth was wet with drool now, and she could taste the bitterness of her own fear.

He pulled out, the sudden absence of him inside her leaving her feeling empty and violated. He stood up, his pants still open, his cock still hard and gleaming with her innocence. He looked down at her, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Now, Miss Kim," he said, his voice cold and hard. "If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll make sure that video goes viral. You'll be known as the nursing home whore." He chuckled, the sound sending chills down her spine.

Minju's eyes widened in terror as she took in the reality of his threat. The video, the proof of her defilement, was in his hands. Her career, her reputation, her very identity as a virgin, all of it could be shattered with a single click. She nodded, her eyes pleading as she struggled against her binds. He took his phone and tucked it into his pocket, the smug look on his face telling her that he had won.

Mr. Lee bent down, his grip on her jaw tight as he pulled the fabric from her mouth. The taste of her own fear and saliva made her want to retch, but she held it back, her eyes never leaving his. "Now, my little cumdump," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You're going to clean me up, and then we'll pretend like this never happened." He held his cock out to her, the last remnants of his release still glistening on the tip.

Minju felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over her as she nodded, her voice a hoarse whisper. She took the shaking hand he offered and allowed him to pull her to her knees. The floor was cold and unforgiving, but she knew she had no choice. She leaned forward, her trembling hands supporting her as she took him into her mouth. The taste was bitter, the smell of his arousal filling her nose. She closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth of his flesh as she licked and sucked, trying to erase the evidence of what he had done to her.

Mr. Lee's eyes rolled back in his head, a low groan escaping his lips as she worked her mouth around his cock. He had taken her innocence so easily, and now he was taking her dignity as well. Her eyes remained closed, tears streaming down her face as she cleaned him, her mind racing with the reality of what had just transpired. How could she ever face her grandpa again? How could she go back to her life, knowing what these men had done to her?

After a few moments, Mr. Lee pulled away, his cock clean and glistening. He tucked it back into his pants with a self-satisfied smile. "Good girl," he murmured, patting her head like a pet. "Now, remember, not a word." With that, he turned and left the storage room, the door creaking shut behind him.

Minju remained on the floor for what felt like an eternity, her body trembling with shock and disgust. She managed to untie the makeshift binds, her trembling hands clumsy with fear.

The clock on the wall ticked away the moments, each second a painful reminder of the horror she had just endured. She knew she had to compose herself, had to act as if nothing had happened. But as she stumbled back to her grandpa's room, the weight of her violation felt like it was crushing her from the inside out.

Mr. Kim slept peacefully, oblivious to the monster that had just claimed her innocence. Minju took a shaky breath, willing herself to push the memories aside. She had to be strong for her grandpa; she couldn't let him see the fear in her eyes, the pain that was now a permanent part of her.

As she settled him into bed, Mr. Kim's eyes fluttered open. "Is everything okay, Minju?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Yes, Grandpa," she lied, her voice wavering. "Just making sure you're comfortable."

Minju's hands trembled as she tucked the blankets around Mr. Kim, avoiding his gaze. She couldn't tell him what had happened, not now, not ever. She kissed his forehead and whispered a goodnight before retreating to the chair beside his bed. The darkness of the room seemed to swallow her whole, the shadows playing tricks on her mind as she replayed the horrific events of the evening.

Exhaustion eventually took hold, and she slipped into a fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares of Mr. Lee's leering face and the pain of his touch. The hours passed slowly, each tick of the clock a painful reminder of the silent prison she now found herself in.

CHAPTER 2

In the deepest part of the night, Minju was jolted awake by the sound of a gentle knock on her grandpa's door. She sat up, her heart racing, as one of the nurse's voice called out to her softly. "Miss Kim, Mr. Lee wants to see you in his room."

Her stomach churned with dread. She knew what he wanted, and the thought of facing him again made her skin crawl. But she had no choice. The video was his leash, and she was his unwilling pet. She slid out of bed, careful not to wake her grandpa, and wrapped a robe around herself. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

Mr. Lee's room was down the hall, and she walked there with leaden feet. The corridor was silent, the only sound her own racing heart. When she reached his door, she paused, her hand hovering over the handle. Another knock, more insistent this time. "Miss Kim, don't keep an old man waiting."

Minju took a deep breath and turned the knob, the room inside dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn, and the air was thick with the scent of his cologne, which now made her stomach twist. She stepped inside, and before she could even fully close the door, Mr. Lee's hand was on her, his grip firm on her wrist as he spun her around. His eyes glinted with excitement as he looked her over, his hand sliding down to cup her ass.

"Ah, Miss Kim," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he squeezed her cheek roughly. "You're even more beautiful when you're scared." He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing her neck as his other hand began to roam, his fingers sliding under her robe to trace the sensitive skin of her back. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach, a cruel reminder of what was to come.

"Now, now," he said, his voice a low purr. "Let's not waste any more time. I've been thinking about this all night." He released her and took a step back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his pajama top. His chest was covered in a thin layer of silver hair, his skin wrinkled and spotted with age. "Undress me, my dear," he ordered, his voice thick with lust.

Minju's hand trembled as she reached out to obey, the weight of his gaze heavy on her. She helped him shed his top, revealing a stomach that hung over his pajama bottoms. His skin was soft and cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the hardness of his erection that pressed against the fabric. She forced herself to look away, focusing on the task at hand.

Mr. Lee handed her a small bottle of oil that he had been hiding under his pillow. She uncapped it, the scent of something musky and overpowering filling the air. He patted the edge of the bed, and she swallowed hard, her legs wobbling as she sat beside him. He lay down, his eyes never leaving hers as she took a deep, shaky breath and began to massage the oil into his back. Her hands moved in slow, deliberate circles, her thoughts racing as she tried to find a way out of this nightmare.

"Oh, you do massage so much better than the nurses here," he groaned, his voice a gruff growl that made her skin crawl. "They're all so rough and uncaring. But you, my dear, you have the gentle touch of an angel." His words were a mockery of the situation, a twisted game that only served to deepen her humiliation. She continued to work the oil into his skin, her stomach turning as she felt his muscles tense beneath her trembling fingers.

"I want you to stop massaging me with your hand," he said, his voice dropping to a commanding whisper. "Undress and use your breast to massage my back, body to body." Minju's heart skipped a beat. The very idea of using her naked body to service this vile old man was repulsive, but she knew better than to argue. With trembling hands, she undid the tie of her robe, letting it fall open to reveal her bare skin.

Her modest breasts were heaving with fear and revulsion, but she knew he was watching every move, his eyes devouring her. She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself as she straddled him, her legs shaking as she settled her weight onto his thighs. The feel of his skin against hers was like a brand, searing her with a sense of wrongness that she couldn't ignore. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing into the oily expanse of his back as she began to move them in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was strange, the sensation of her nipples against his flesh making her want to scream.

Mr. Lee's hand slithered around her, reaching for the bottle of oil. He poured a generous amount onto her chest, his gnarled fingers smearing it across her skin as he chuckled to himself. "Looks like you need a little help," he said, his voice thick with lust. She felt his hand close around her breast, guiding it against his back as he took the bell nipple clamp from the bedside table. Her heart raced as he held it up, the cold metal glinting in the dim light.

"This will make things more... interesting," he murmured, a wicked smile playing on his lips. With surprising deftness, he attached the clamp to her nipple, twisting it tight until she gasped in pain. The sensation was sharp, a bolt of agony that shot through her body. "Now," he said, his voice gruff with excitement. "Massage me with your clamped nipple."

Minju bit her lip, the pain making her eyes water as she began to move her chest against his back again. The metal pinched and pulled at her sensitive flesh with every stroke, the sound of the bell chiming with every movement she made. It was a twisted symphony of pain and pleasure, and she hated herself for the way her body responded, her nipples growing harder despite the torment.

The sound of the bell woke up Mr. Park and Mr. Cho from their nearby rooms. They had been lying in bed, listening to the TV, when the faint ringing caught their attention. Curiosity piqued, they both shuffled out into the hallway, the sound growing clearer with every step. They followed it like it was a siren's call, until they found themselves standing outside Mr. Lee's door, their hearts racing with anticipation.

Mr. Park's hand hovered over the doorknob, his breathing shallow and quick. He glanced at Mr. Cho, who gave a nod of encouragement. Slowly, Mr. Park turned the knob and pushed the door open, the hinges squeaking like a confession. The sight that greeted them was not what they had expected. Minju was straddling Mr. Lee, her robe open, her breasts bouncing with the movement as the metal clamp chimed with each press against his back. The room was thick with the scent of oil and lust, and their eyes widened with excitement at the sight of the young, vulnerable girl being used so wantonly by the man they had known as a harmless old neighbor.

Mr. Cho's gaze fell to the clamp, his eyes lighting up with perverse interest. "Looks like she's been a good girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse with excitement. Mr. Park nodded, licking his lips as he took in the scene. They had always had their suspicions about Mr. Lee's intentions, but to see it playing out in such an explicit manner was beyond their wildest imaginations. They watched in silence, their own desires growing with every twitch of Minju's body, every whimper she couldn't hold back.

Mr. Lee's eyes flicked to the doorway, and he saw his audience. His grin grew wider, his eyes glinting with a malicious joy as he beckoned them closer. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I see you've come to join the party." Minju's eyes grew wide with horror, realizing she was not the only one who knew about her degradation. The fear of being watched by these men she had once considered harmless was almost as overwhelming as the pain in her chest.

Mr. Park stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving Minju's breasts. "We wouldn't want to miss this, would we?" He said, his voice a low, hungry growl. Mr. Cho followed, his own gaze lingering on the sight of Minju's exposed flesh. Mr. Lee chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "Good, good," he murmured. "The more the merrier."

"Miss Kim," Mr. Lee said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I want you to keep doing what you're doing, but I think it's time to introduce you to some new friends." He gestured to the two men standing in the doorway, their lust palpable in the air. "Mr. Park and Mr. Cho here have been wanting to meet you for quite some time."

With trembling hands, Mr. Park reached out to close the door behind them, the click of the lock echoing through the room like a gunshot. Mr. Cho followed suit, drawing the curtains and ensuring no prying eyes could peer in from the outside. The room was now a cocoon of darkness, the only light coming from the bedside lamp that cast eerie shadows across their leering faces.

Minju's eyes darted between the two new intruders, her mind racing with fear. Mr. Lee's hand slithered down to her waist, his grip firm as he whispered, "Don't worry, my dear. They're just here to make sure you don't get lonely." His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a cold sweat break out across her skin.

Mr. Park took a tentative step forward, his eyes locked on the clamped nipples that stood out against her pale flesh. "Can I?" he asked, his voice shaking with excitement. Mr. Lee nodded, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Go ahead. She's all yours to play with."

Minju felt Mr. Park's hand on her shoulder, his grip surprisingly gentle as he took over her massaging duties. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore, the reality of her situation too much to bear. She was nothing more than a toy for these depraved old men, their lustful gazes stripping away the last vestiges of her dignity.

Mr. Cho shuffled closer, his eyes gleaming as he reached out to caress her thigh, his trembling fingers leaving a trail of oil in their wake. "So soft," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "So perfect." The words were like a knife in her soul, a painful reminder that she was no longer in control of her own body.

Minju's tears fell in silent streams, her eyes never leaving Mr. Lee's as she felt Mr. Park's hand move down her back, his grip tightening on the clamp. He tugged it gently, and she couldn't help but moan, the pain morphing into a strange, twisted pleasure that made her feel even more ashamed. She felt Mr. Cho's hand move up her leg, his thumb brushing against the wetness between her thighs. "Ah," he said, his voice thick with lust. "Look at how ready she is for us."

With surprising strength, Mr. Cho reached around and ripped her panties from her body, the fabric tearing away with a sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the night. He tossed the ruined garment aside, his eyes never leaving hers as he took the bottle of oil from the bedside table. She felt the cool liquid cascade over her, running down her back and pooling in the small of her back, making her skin glisten. His hand followed the trail, his palm cupping her ass and squeezing it roughly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as if he was trying to mold it to his will.

Mr. Lee's voice was like a whip crack, ordering her to remove the robe that barely clung to her. Minju's trembling hands obeyed, the fabric pooling around her wrists before sliding off, leaving her completely exposed to their hungry gazes. She felt a fresh wave of humiliation as the two men took in the sight of her, their eyes raking over her body like it was a feast laid out before them.

Mr. Lee's hand remained firm on her waist as he guided her back into the position she had just vacated, her breasts now oiled and slick from the massage. "Miss Kim," he instructed, his voice low and dangerous. "You're going to continue massaging me with your tits, just like before. Don't stop, no matter what happens."

Minju's eyes remained locked on his, filled with a mix of fear and defiance as she felt Mr. Cho's hands on her hips. His breath was hot on her neck as he whispered, "Mr. Lee, you haven't used this hole yet, have you?" His grip tightened, and she felt something thick and hard pressing against her unprepared anus, the tip of his erection probing the tight ring of muscle. Panic surged through her, but she knew better than to resist. She took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, her body trembling as Mr. Cho's oiled hand reached around to caress her clit, his other hand guiding his cock into position.

Mr. Park stepped closer, his own excitement palpable as he unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free, standing proud and erect in the soft light of the lamp. He took her right hand, which was still shaking from the trauma of her recent assault, and wrapped it around his shaft. His skin was hot and slick with precum, and she felt him shiver as she tentatively began to stroke him, her movements clumsy and forced. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a harsh contrast to the gentle stroking of her hand. "You're going to make me feel so good."

Her eyes remained on Mr. Lee's, her silent plea for mercy lost in the sea of his depravity. He simply chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched Mr. Cho's cock disappear into her tight anus. She felt the head of Mr. Cho's cock breach her, the pain unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was as if she was being torn apart from the inside, her body no longer her own.

With a brutal thrust, Mr. Cho rammed his dick into her virgin ass, the sound of her scream echoing off the walls of the small room. She threw her head back, the pain so intense it was almost unbearable. She could feel him stretching her, filling her with his disgusting lust, and she wanted to die. But she couldn't. She had to keep going, had to keep up the facade for the sake of her grandpa.

Her hand continued to stroke Mr. Park's cock, her movements jerky and awkward as she tried to focus on anything but the agony in her ass. She felt Mr. Cho's hand move to her clit, his fingers moving with a speed that seemed inhuman. He began to rub her clit with a fervor that matched the tempo of his thrusts, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure and pain through her body.

Minju's screams grew louder, her body convulsing as she was pushed to the brink of sanity. She could feel Mr. Cho's balls slapping against her ass with each thrust, the pressure building in her stomach, her mind a whirlwind of despair. The pain was so intense it was almost unbearable, and yet, there was something... more. Something dark and twisted that made her body respond despite her mind's screams for it to stop.

Mr. Cho's grunts grew louder, his grip on her hips tightening as he plunged into her with an almost animalistic fervor. Each thrust was deeper, faster, his cock stretching her to the point she thought she might break. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with the effort to stay upright. The clamp on her nipple was forgotten, the pain lost in the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely.

Minju felt her body start to shake, her muscles straining against the relentless onslaught. Mr. Cho's cock was thick and unforgiving, pushing into her with a force that left her struggling to breathe. Her eyes watered, and she bit her lip hard to keep from screaming, the pain in her ass a constant reminder of her degradation. Yet, amidst the horror, she felt her own arousal building, a traitorous response that made her hate herself even more.

Suddenly, Mr. Park leaned in, his eyes gleaming with a perverse excitement. His hand reached for the bell nipple clamp, and without warning, he gave it a firm pull, drawing her nipple outwards and elongating it to an almost painful length. The sensation was strange, a mix of agony and a dark, twisted pleasure that sent a jolt straight to her core. She gasped, her eyes flying to Mr. Lee's, who watched with a detached amusement, his hand still firmly on her waist, guiding her movements.

Mr. Cho's thrusts grew more erratic, his breaths coming in pants as he fucked her hard and fast. His hand never stopped working her clit, the relentless pressure building into a crescendo of pain and pleasure that had her entire body trembling. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic beat that matched the pounding of her heart in her ears. The pain in her ass was a living, breathing entity, consuming her, making her aware of every inch of his cock as it plunged in and out of her.

Mr. Park took advantage of her distraction, leaning in to whisper in her ear, his breath hot and rank. "You like that, don't you?" His words were almost a taunt, and she could feel his cock pulsing in her hand, his excitement palpable. He gave the bell clamp another sharp tug, and she felt her nipple stretch even further, the metal digging into her tender flesh. The pain was exquisite, a white-hot line of agony that traveled straight to her clit, making her hips buck involuntarily.

Mr. Cho took the cue, his own excitement reaching a fever pitch. He pulled almost all the way out, the head of his cock teasing the entrance to her ass before slamming back in, making her body jolt. She could feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his climax. Her hand on Mr. Park's cock moved faster, driven by the need to distract herself from the pain, to find some semblance of control in this twisted game.

Mr. Park stepped back, his eyes still locked on hers as he bent down and picked up the shreds of fabric that were once her panties. He held them up with a twisted smile, the flimsy material seemingly innocuous in his grip. With a deft twirl of his wrist, he wrapped the fabric around her right nipple, the oil from her massage making it stick to her skin. He tugged it tight, the fabric biting into her sensitive flesh. The clamp was already a torment, but the addition of the fabric was like a brand new level of hell.

Mr. Cho took a deep breath, his cock still buried in her ass, his eyes glazed with lust as he watched Mr. Park's cruel play. "I think she's enjoying it," he said, his voice strained with his own pleasure. Mr. Lee chuckled, his hand moving to her other breast, giving it a rough squeeze. "Look at her, begging for more."

Minju felt the fabric of her panties tighten around her right nipple, Mr. Park's grip growing stronger with every twist of the makeshift rope. The pain was unbearable, a sharp, burning sensation that seemed to pulse in time with Mr. Cho's thrusts. She could feel her orgasm approaching, a dark, twisted parody of pleasure that she knew would only serve to further humiliate her. She wanted to scream, to beg for them to stop, but she knew that would only make things worse.

Mr. Park leaned closer, his breath hot and moist on her neck. "Look how much you're enjoying this," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Look how wet you are." His hand moved down her body, his thumb sliding through the slickness of her pussy before pressing against her clit, adding to the torment. The fabric of her panties grew tauter, the pressure on her nipple increasing with every twist. The clamp's bell chimed a mournful tune with every jerk of her body, a soundtrack to her degradation.

Minju's eyes watered, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she tried to hold back the scream that was building in her chest. She couldn't believe the depth of pain and humiliation she was enduring, her body being used and abused by these old men. The fabric around her nipple grew tighter, the pain blossoming into a white-hot agony that was almost unbearable. She felt like she was being torn apart, her body a plaything in their twisted game.

Mr. Cho's grunts grew more insistent, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. She could feel his cock swelling inside her anus, his orgasm imminent. The thought of him filling her up with his cum was too much, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around Mr. Park's invading thumb as she came, the pleasure ripping through her like a tornado of despair.

Mr. Cho roared as he climaxed, his cock pumping rope after rope of cum into her tight, unprepared hole. The sensation was indescribable, a mix of pain and violation that made her want to scream. The pressure built until she felt like she was going to burst, the warm, sticky fluid filling her up and stretching her to her limits. When he finally pulled out, she couldn't help but whimper as she felt the emptiness, the blood and cum dripping from her gaping anus painting a gruesome picture of her degradation.

Mr. Park watched with a perverse fascination, his own climax building as he saw the evidence of their depravity spilling from her body. He stepped closer, his cock in her hand now slick with precum and her own arousal. His eyes never left hers as he brought himself closer, the head of his cock nudging at her bruised and swollen pussy. "My turn," he said, his voice a low growl.

CHAPTER 3

Mr. Lee nodded in agreement, his own desire clear in his eyes as he positioned himself on the bed. He beckoned her closer, his cock standing proudly erect, a symbol of the power he wielded over her. Minju felt her legs give out, but the two men were quick to support her, their grip on her firm and unyielding as they guided her to the bed. They sat cross-legged, facing each other, a macabre reflection of a scene from a twisted fairy tale.

Mr. Park took his place opposite Mr. Lee, his cock jutting out like an accusation, eager to claim its share of her pussy. She trembled as she felt the head of Mr. Park's cock nuzzle against her slick entrance, the anticipation of the pain to come making her stomach churn. Mr. Lee leaned in, his breath hot in her ear. "Now, Miss Kim," he murmured, his voice a serpent's hiss. "You're going to show us what a good girl you can be."

With a cruel twist of his wrist, Mr. Lee yanked the rope tied to her nipple, the clamp biting deeper into her sensitive flesh. The pain was like a bolt of lightning, making her cry out, her body arching as she was forced onto Mr. Park's cock. It filled her, stretching her pussy to the brink of pain. Mr. Park's eyes never left hers, his own desire mingling with the satisfaction of watching her struggle.

"Now, Mr. Cho," Mr. Lee said, his voice thick with lust as he gestured to her quivering body. "Why don't you get ready for the main event?" He smirked, the gleam in his eye leaving no doubt about what was to come. Mr. Cho nodded eagerly, his hand already moving to his cock, stroking it to full hardness once more.

Mr. Lee turned his attention to Minju, who was sobbing quietly, her eyes darting between the two men as if searching for an escape that didn't exist. "Miss Kim," he said, his voice a mockery of tenderness. "You're going to be our little sandwich now. And remember, no matter how much it hurts, you don't get to come until we say so."

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she felt Mr. Park's cock pressing against her still-sore pussy, Mr. Cho eagerly watching from the side. With a sadistic smile, Mr. Lee nodded to Mr. Park, and with a single, brutal thrust, he filled her, the two dicks stretching her beyond anything she had ever imagined. She couldn't hold back a scream, her body arching back as she took them both, their grips on her hips keeping her in place.

The pain was unbearable, a fiery agony that seemed to consume her entire being as she was forced to accommodate the two thick, old-man cocks. Mr. Park's dick slammed into her pussy, the friction sending waves of pain crashing through her body, while Mr. Lee's cock invaded her ass, the head of it pushing against the bruised, sensitive flesh. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to adjust to the intrusion, her mind reeling with the horror of her situation.

Mr. Lee reached up to wipe her tears away, his touch surprisingly gentle given the brutality of the act. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice a soft growl. Minju's eyes flew open, meeting his, and she felt a strange mix of fear and resentment. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to take us both, Miss Kim. And you're going to do it like a good girl."

Mr. Park took the cue, his grip on her hips tightening as he began to move his cock in and out of her pussy, the movement rough and unyielding. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice a sick parody of sweetness.

Minju felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over her, but she knew she had no choice. With a shaky exhale, she began to rock her hips, trying to find some semblance of rhythm amidst the pain. The two men watched her intently, their eyes feasting on her struggling body as if it were the most erotic thing they had ever seen. The fabric of her panties around her right nipple grew tauter with each movement, the bell chiming a twisted lullaby of despair.

Mr. Park's cock slammed into her with each thrust, the sensation of being split apart by two men at once an agony she never knew existed. Yet, she couldn't deny the way her body responded, the depraved pleasure that seemed to coil around the pain, wrapping itself tightly around her very soul. She bit her lip, trying to keep the moans at bay, but they slipped out, low and guttural, filling the room with the sound of her degradation.

Mr. Cho's hand was back on her clit, his fingers moving with a precision that was almost terrifying. He watched her face with a twisted glee, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed her closer to the edge. "If you want this all to end," he panted, his voice a harsh echo of Mr. Park's earlier words. "Start moving your hips and show us your horny facial expressions. I want to hear your lewd moans also."

Minju felt a hot blush creep up her neck, her cheeks flaming with shame. But she knew better than to argue. With trembling legs, she began to rock her hips, her movements jerky and forced at first, but gradually growing smoother as the pain gave way to something else. Something darker, something that made her stomach clench with a perverse excitement she had never felt before.

Mr. Cho's fingers worked her clit with a brutal efficiency, drawing out sounds she had never made, sounds that seemed to fuel the old men's desire. She moaned, the sound a strange mix of pain and pleasure, a symphony of degradation that filled the small room. Mr. Park's thrusts grew more insistent, his cock driving into her with a force that made her vision swim. She felt Mr. Lee's grip on her ass tighten, his own need to dominate her apparent in every movement of his hips.

Her face contorted into a mask of lust, her eyes glazed over as she twerked her hips, grinding down onto their cocks. "Oh, yes," she moaned, the words torn from her throat. "Fuck me harder, please!" The words were foreign, a betrayal of everything she had ever known, but they slipped from her lips as if they belonged there.

Mr. Park grinned, his grip tightening on her hips as he began to match her rhythm. "Look at you," he panted. "So eager for more." He thrust harder, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the air.

Mr. Cho leaned in, his eyes glinting with malicious pleasure as he whispered, "Say it again. Tell us how much you want it." His thumb pressed harder on her clit, and she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her lips. "Yes," she gasped, her hips moving of their own accord. "Fuck me harder. Please."

The grandpas watched her transformation with a mix of awe and glee, their own arousal spiking at the sight of her submission. Mr. Park's thrusts grew more powerful, his cock plunging into her soaked pussy with an almost savage need. "Look at her," he said to Mr. Cho. "Our little slut is loving it."

Minju's moans grew louder, her hips moving in a frenzied dance as she took the three cocks in one time, her body betraying her with every twitch and jerk. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but the only one that seemed to matter was the desperate need for release. She was theirs now, their toy to use and abuse as they saw fit.

Her pussy clenched around Mr. Park's cock, the sensation of fullness overwhelming as she felt Mr. Lee's cock hit her g-spot with each thrust. The pain in her ass had transformed into a burning need, a hunger that consumed her. She could feel Mr. Cho's cock thicken, his excitement palpable as he watched her degrade herself before their eyes. "Oh, yes," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "More, please, I need more."

Mr. Park's thrusts grew erratic, his eyes glazed with desire as he watched her body take them both. "Look at you," he grunted, his voice strained. "Such a good girl for your grandpas." The sound of their bodies slapping together grew louder, a testament to their depraved passion.

Minju's moans grew louder, her voice a symphony of pain and pleasure as she was filled beyond capacity. "Oh, grandpa," she whimpered, her hips bucking wildly. "It's too much, please..." But even as she begged for mercy, her body betrayed her, her pussy clenching around Mr. Park's thick cock, urging him deeper.

"Good girl," Mr. Cho murmured, his thumb pressing down on her clit with a merciless precision. "Take it all for us, take it all."

Minju's body was a canvas of pain and pleasure, her moans now a constant backdrop to their depraved symphony. She had become a masochist's dream, a living, breathing embodiment of innocence corrupted. "Daddy, yes," she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she ground her hips down onto their cocks, the word slipping from her lips as if it were the sweetest of endearments. The grandpas' eyes lit up with a twisted delight, their grips on her body tightening in response.

Mr. Park's cock pounded into her with a ferocity that made her vision swim, her pussy clenching around him like a vice as she took them both in her pussy. "Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own climax. Minju's eyes rolled back in her head, her moans growing louder as she felt the pressure building within her.

Mr. Lee took the opportunity to lean in and whisper in her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "Call me daddy," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. She whimpered, her eyes flying open to meet his, the word a strange, dark thrill on her tongue. "Daddy," she gasped, her hips bucking as Mr. Cho's thumb worked her clit into a frenzy. The grandpas' eyes lit up, their grips tightening on her body as she gave in to their depraved whims.

With a sadistic grin, Mr. Park took his hand and slapped her face, the sound echoing in the small room. Instead of pain, she felt a jolt of pleasure, the sting on her cheek sending a bolt of electricity straight to her core. It was as if her body had been rewired, pain now a conduit for pleasure. She moaned, the word "daddy" slipping from her lips like a prayer.

Mr. Cho's hand left her clit, instead reaching out to slap her left breast, the nipple clamp chiming with the impact. The pain was intense, but instead of screaming, she gasped, her back arching as the pain transformed into something exquisite. The men watched her with a mix of astonishment and excitement, their eyes gleaming as they realized the depths of her newfound masochism.

Mr. Park took his turn, his hand landing on her cheek with a resounding crack, the sting spreading like wildfire across her face. But instead of recoiling, she leaned into it, her body craving the pain as it melded with the pleasure from their brutal fucking. The grandpas' eyes widened, and they shared a knowing look, their grips on her tightening as they grew more eager to push her boundaries.

Mr. Cho took his cue, his cock joining Mr. Park's in a relentless rhythm that had Minju's pussy stretched to the limit. The sensation of being filled by both men was almost too much, a delirious mix of pain and pleasure that had her writhing in their grasp. Mr. Lee, not to be outdone, began to move his own cock faster, the sound of his hips slapping against her ass cheek a gruesome counterpoint to the chiming of the nipple clamp.

Her cries grew more desperate, her body a playground for their depraved desires. Mr. Park leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck as he whispered, "You're going to take us both, baby. You're going to be our little cum dumpster." The words were like a knife in her soul, but she found herself pushing back onto their cocks, eager for the release she knew was just out of reach.

Mr. Cho's grip on her hips tightened, his eyes never leaving hers as he felt his orgasm approaching. He slammed into her one last time, his cock buried to the hilt before letting go with a roar. His hot seed filled her pussy, mixing with Mr. Park's as they both came inside her, their combined cum overflowing and spilling down her thighs. The sensation of being filled by two men at once was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that seemed to reach down to her very core.

Mr. Park pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening with the evidence of their shared violation. He and Mr. Cho stepped aside, allowing Mr. Lee to take his place. The older man's eyes were feverish with lust as they lay down on the bed, Mr. Lee's cock still buried in her ass. "Finish her" Mr. Cho said with a grin, his own cock still hard, the head gleaming with Minju's juices.

Minju's body was a wreck, trembling and sobbing, but she felt Mr. Lee's cock begin to move within her, his strokes rapid and merciless. He gripped her bruised breast tightly, his thumb flicking the nipple clamp with a sadistic glee that sent shockwaves of pain through her. Each twist of the clamp coincided with a thrust into her ass, creating a symphony of agony that she could no longer ignore. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion, her mind a jumble of emotions she couldn't begin to process.

Mr. Cho and Mr. Park stepped back, their own climaxes subsiding as they watched Mr. Lee claim her one last time. They stroked their own cocks, not yet fully spent, eager to see the culmination of their twisted games. The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the air charged with the electricity of their depraved desires. Minju's cries grew louder as Mr. Lee picked up his pace, the sound of his hips slapping against her ass a sickening reminder of her degradation.

Summoning every ounce of her will, Minju began to moan, the sounds forced and unnatural. She knew that the quicker she could make Mr. Lee cum, the sooner this would all be over. Her eyes locked onto his, she threw her head back, arching her spine and pushing her hips back to meet his thrusts. It was a performance, a desperate bid to appease the monster inside the man she had once looked up to.

"Yes," Mr. Lee grunted, his eyes glazing over with pleasure. "Just like that. You're such a good girl for your grandpa." Each word was a knife twisting in her stomach, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. The only thing that mattered now was escape, and if playing their twisted game meant she could leave this room with some shred of dignity, she would do it.

Minju's moans grew louder, each one a desperate cry for relief. "Daddy," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Please, I need it." It was as if speaking the words gave them power, a dark incantation that bound her to their will. She felt Mr. Lee's cock swell within her, his grip on her hips tightening as he drove himself deeper, harder.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she clenched her anus tighter than ever before, feeling the pressure building. "Oh, yes," she moaned, the words torn from her as Mr. Lee's cock slammed into her over and over. "More, daddy, more." Her body was a battleground, a war between the pain and the strange, perverse pleasure that seemed to be fighting for dominance.

Mr. Lee grunted, his pace increasing as he felt her tighten around him. "That's it," he said, his voice strained with his own need. "You're doing so good for me." Her anus was a vice around him, her muscles contracting with each of his thrusts as if trying to milk every last drop of cum from his balls.

Minju's moans grew more frantic as she felt his cock swell even further, the pressure within her building to unbearable heights. "Oh, daddy," she whispered, her voice a mix of pain and desperation. "Please, please." Her body was a symphony of sensations, the pain and pleasure intertwining until she couldn't tell one from the other.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she focused on the feeling of Mr. Lee's cock inside her, the way it stretched and filled her so completely. She clenched her anus tightly, feeling his length throb with every thrust. "Yes, yes," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea. "It's too much, please, I need it." Her body was no longer her own, a mere receptacle for their lust.

Mr. Lee's breath grew ragged as he watched her face, his eyes narrowed with concentration. "Look at me," he snarled, his grip on her hips unyielding. "Look at your grandpa as he fucks you." The humiliation of his words brought a fresh wave of pain, but she complied, her eyes locking onto his.

Her anus clenched around him, tighter than she had ever thought possible, the sensation pushing him to the brink of release. "Fuck," he grunted, his hips jerking as he drove into her. She felt him swell, the head of his cock pressing against her inner walls, demanding release. Her own body responded, a strange mix of pain and pleasure that made her moan once more.

Minju opened her eyes, her pupils dilated with lust. She had never felt so used, so degraded, and yet she was desperate for more. She leaned into Mr. Lee's touch, her face a mask of wanton need. "Daddy," she whimpered, her voice a breathless plea. "Please, let me have it."

Mr. Lee's eyes narrowed with excitement as he watched her transformation. She was no longer the shy, innocent girl who had walked into this room. She was theirs, a plaything for their twisted games. He thrust into her one last time, his cock pulsing with the force of his climax. She felt his hot seed fill her, the sensation sending her over the edge. Her own orgasm ripped through her, her body convulsing around his cock as she screamed his name.

Minju's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and anger as she felt the warmth of their cum inside her. She turned her body around, her eyes blazing with a fiery determination. Straddling Mr. Lee, she positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy, her eyes never leaving his. "You're the one who started all of this," she hissed, her voice low and filled with rage. "Turning me into a slut." With a vindictive smile, she sank down onto him, her pussy enveloping his length.

Mr. Lee's eyes widened in surprise as she began to ride him with a frenzy that matched the intensity of their earlier encounters. Her hips moved with a wild abandon, each bounce sending a fresh wave of pleasure-pain through her bruised body. The grandpas watched, their expressions a mix of shock and arousal as she took control.

Her breasts bounced with every downward thrust, the clamps pulling at her nipples, sending jolts of pain-laced pleasure to her already overstimulated brain. Yet, she didn't stop. Instead, she leaned forward, her hands pressing down on Mr. Lee's chest as she bobbed up and down, taking his cock deep inside her. Her moans were no longer forced; they were genuine, raw expressions of the carnality that had been unlocked within her.

Mr. Cho and Mr. Park watched, their own cocks hardening once again as they took in the sight of their young, once-innocent plaything now eagerly fucking their ringleader. They could see the fire in Minju's eyes, the fierce determination to take what was hers by force. It was a sight that both terrified and thrilled them, a testament to the depths of her depravity and their own twisted power.

Minju felt her orgasm building, a crescendo of pain and pleasure that threatened to consume her. Her pussy tightened around Mr. Lee's cock as she rode him, her body moving almost of its own accord. The clamps on her nipples jangled with each thrust, the pain sending bolts of electricity straight to her clit. She threw her head back, her hair a wild mess, her breasts bouncing with every movement.

With a scream that was equal parts rage and ecstasy, she came, her squirt spraying across the room like a fountain. The warm fluid coated Mr. Lee's chest and stomach, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. Her body trembled, the force of her climax stealing her breath. But she didn't stop. Instead, she moved faster, her hips a blur as she ground down on him, her eyes never leaving his.

Mr. Cho and Mr. Park watched with rapt attention, their own cocks hardening again at the sight. They reached for their phones, eager to capture the moment for their own twisted memories. The flashes of light bathed the room in a strobe effect, highlighting the sweat on their bodies and the raw desire etched on their faces. They snapped photo after photo, eager to immortalize Minju in her moment of ultimate degradation.

Her orgasm subsiding, Minju felt a sudden weakness in her legs, but Mr. Lee's iron grip kept her in place, his cock still deep inside her. "Look at you," he taunted, his voice thick with his own arousal. "Our little cum dumpster." The humiliation of his words, combined with the cold reality of their situation, brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.

Mr. Cho and Mr. Park circled the bed like vultures, their phones held high, eager to capture her debasement. The flashes of their cameras pierced the dim light, painting the room in a stark, clinical white that only served to highlight the stark contrast of the scene unfolding before them. Minju's body was a canvas of sweat and semen, her dignity shattered into a million pieces.

Her hips slowed, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt Mr. Lee's cock pulse within her. His grip on her waist tightened, his eyes never leaving hers as she squirted again, the force of her orgasm making her vision swim. The feeling of her own wetness coating her thighs and the sound of her juices mixing with their cum was a symphony of degradation, and she knew that she had reached her breaking point.

With a final, desperate push, Minju felt her body give out. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto Mr. Lee, her breaths coming in short, erratic bursts. The world went dark around her as she fainted, her last conscious thought a silent scream of despair.

THE END

[rafesangelita]

Rafe x reader x Barry threesome??

warnings: dealer!rafe, arguing, threesome, dubcon, face sitting, oral (m & f. receiving), barry is so sleazy in this

“this isn’t all my money, country club.” barry ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. rafe was quick with his response, an uneasy feeling settling over you. “look, there’s a party tomorrow night back on figure eight, if you could lend me something to flip i’ll have the rest of your paper, plus interest, alright?” barry shook his head, feeling for the gun he had in the waistband of his shorts.

rafe’s eyes traveled down to where the metal glinted under the dim light of barry’s trailer. “come on, man, i got my girl here.” your boyfriend took a seat next to you, pulling you into his side. “calm down with the gun, barry, forreal.” you glanced up, only to see rafe’s business partner already looking at you. “i got bills to pay, rafe, and i need to collect.” he sat back in his chair, a smirk forming on his lips.

“you didn’t tell me your girl was so pretty.. what is that? ‘that lace?” you looked down at your stockings that peeked out from under your skirt, nodding as rafe fixed your bottoms so barry couldn’t look at you anymore. “just let us leave from here and we won’t have any problems, i’ll bring you your money asap and we could go on with our business.” rafe wanted nothing more than to gouge barry’s eyes out of his skull for looking at any other part of you besides your face.

“m’afraid i can’t do that, country club.” rafe scoffed, getting up from the dingy couch before pulling you up with him. “fuck you, man, we’re outta here. c’mon, baby—” barry chuckled, “i wouldn’t do that if i were you, unless you want to be gunned down as soon as you open that door. ‘would be a shame if your little girlfriend was left here all by herself..” you shivered at his words, both you and rafe exchanging looks.

“do you fuckin’ hear yourself? i told you i don’t have the rest of your money, barry. what do you want?” rafe watched as barry’s eyes moved over to you, basically sizing you up as he motioned his head in your direction. “her.” rafe stared blankly at the man in front of him, the gears in his head turning. “i could kill you right now.” you swallowed nervously, eyeing rafe as his face began to redden.

“yeah? so could i.” your heart dropped when you heard the metal click of barry’s gun. “no!” you cut in, both men zeroing in on you. “there’s no need for that.. barry.” rafe looked confused as you got closer to him, “please don’t do that.” you met rafe’s gaze, your own eyes brimming with tears. “i’m not letting this fucker touch you—” he grabbed your wrist pulling you back before barry could do anything.

“he said he was going to shoot you!” you whispered, nearly losing your footing. rafe knew barry wasn’t playing, he’d do anything if money was involved, even if that meant killing his partner. “just let him, rafe..” your voice broke rafe’s heart in two, the look on your face forever ingrained in his brain. “no.” he shook his head. you turned towards barry anyways. “i’ll do it, but only under one condition.”

both men waited with uneven breaths. “rafe has to join us.” at your words, barry glanced at your boyfriend behind you. “fuck no.” he got up, about to reach for you before rafe got in the way. “i can’t do it without him.” you shook your head, hiding behind rafe. barry huffed, shooting daggers in rafe’s direction. “fine.” you clung to rafe’s arm, a chill running down your spine as barry motioned both of you towards the hallway.

“after you.”

if someone told you, you’d be sitting on barry’s face while rafe shoved his cock down your throat as a solution for missing payment, you wouldn’t believe them. “son of a bitch, you’re one lucky bastard, country club. she’s so fucking sweet.” both you and rafe ignored barry’s words, a groan rumbling from rafe’s chest when he felt you swallow around him. your hips moved languidly against barry’s mouth, the tip of his nose nudging your clit.

in a way this wasn’t so bad. with barry underneath you, and your view only being rafe’s pleasure filled face, it was easy to pretend like the man wasn’t even there. since you didn’t let barry take you the way he wanted to, he settled for fucking his fist while eating you like a man starved. you couldn’t deny the way barry’s tongue worked skillfully on your soaked cunt, but it was nowhere near as good as the way of your boyfriend’s.

you looked down when you felt barry’s bruising grip on your thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the pain. rafe swore to himself he was going to punch barry when he least expected it as pay back for hurting you. softly tugging on the roots of your hair, rafe mumbled a ‘keep your eyes on me, baby’ as he felt himself nearing his climax. “fuck..” barry grunted, spilling his load in his hand while working to make you cum on his tongue.

you cried out when barry sucked your clit, your hips stuttering as your orgasm hit you in waves of ecstasy. rafe followed suit, his jaw going slack as he painted the inside of your mouth with his cum, his fingertips threading themselves in your hair to keep you in place. swallowing rafe’s load was second nature to you and it drove him crazy. you sighed through your nose, rafe moving your mouth off of his cock.

he quickly pulled up his jeans, adjusting his belt before pulling you off of barry’s face. “there, asshole. you don’t get to relish in it afterwards.” your legs were still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your boyfriend dressing you as barry laid there on his bed. he looked like he was coming down from the best high he ever had, even licking the remnants of you from his lips. “you okay?” rafe cupped your face, stroking your chin. “mhmm.” you hummed, ready to get out of barry’s trailer already.

“consider yourself debt free.” barry sat up, “but next time you’re short, i’m fucking her.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

AI and the fatfinger economy

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me at NEW ZEALAND'S UNITY BOOKS in WELLINGTON TODAY (May 3). More tour dates (Pittsburgh, PDX, London, Manchester) here.

Have you noticed that all the buttons you click most frequently to invoke routine, useful functions in your device have been moved, and their former place is now taken up by a curiously butthole-esque icon that summons an unwanted AI?

https://velvetshark.com/ai-company-logos-that-look-like-buttholes

These traps for the unwary aren't accidental, but neither are they placed there solely because tech companies think that if they can trick you into using their AI, you'll be so impressed that you'll become a regular user. To understand why you find yourself repeatedly fatfingering your way into an unwanted AI interaction – and why those interactions are so hard to exit – you have to understand something about both the macro- and microeconomics of high-growth tech companies.

Growth is a heady advantage for tech companies, and not because of an ideological commitment to "growth at all costs," but because companies with growth stocks enjoy substantial, material benefits. A growth stock trades at a higher "price to earnings ratio" ("P:E") than a "mature" stock. Because of this, there are a lot of actors in the economy who will accept shares in a growing company as though they were cash (indeed, some might prefer shares to cash). This means that a growing company can outbid their rivals when acquiring other companies and/or hiring key personnel, because they can bid with shares (which they get by typing zeroes into a spreadsheet), while their rivals need cash (which they can only get by selling things or borrowing money).

The problem is that all growth ends. Google has a 90% share of the search market. Google isn't going to appreciably increase the number of searchers, short of desperate gambits like raising a billion new humans to maturity and convincing them to become Google users (this is the strategy behind Google Classroom, of course). To continue posting growth, Google needs gimmicks. For example, in 2019, Google intentionally made Search less accurate so that users would have to run multiple queries (and see multiple rounds of ads) to find the answers to their questions:

https://www.wheresyoured.at/the-men-who-killed-google/

Thanks to Google's monopoly, worsening search perversely resulted in increased earnings, and Wall Street rewarded Google by continuing to trade its stock with that prized high P:E. But for Google – and other tech giants – the most enduring and convincing growth stories comes from moving into adjacent lines of business, which is why we've lived through so many hype bubbles: metaverse, web3, cryptocurrency, and now, of course, AI.

For a company like Google, the promise of these bubbles is that it will be able to double or triple in size, by dominating an entirely new sector. With that promise comes peril: growth must eventually stop ("anything that can't go on forever eventually stops"). When that happens, the company's stock instantaneously goes from being a "growth stock" to being a "mature stock" which means that its P:E is way too high. Anyone holding growth stock knows that there will come a day when those stocks will transition, in an eyeblink, from being undervalued to being grossly overvalued, and that when that day comes, there will be a mass sell-off. If you're still holding the stock when that happens, you stand to lose bigtime:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/06/privacy-last/#exceptionally-american

So everyone holding a growth stock sleeps with one eye open and their fists poised over the "sell" button. Managers of growth companies know how jittery their investors are, and they do everything they can to keep the growth story alive, as a matter of life and death.

But mass sell-offs aren't just bad for the company – it's also very bad for the company's key employees, that is, anyone who's been given stock in addition to their salary. Those people's portfolios are extremely heavy on their employer's shares, and they stand to disproportionately lose in the event of a selloff. So they are personally motivated to keep the growth story alive.

That's where these growth-at-all-stakes maneuvers bent on capturing an adjacent sector come from. If you remember the Google Plus days, you'll remember that every Google service you interacted with had some important functionality ripped out of it and replaced with a G+-based service. To make sure that happened, Google's bosses decreed that the company's bonuses would be tied to the amount of G+ activity each division generated. In companies where bonuses can amount to 90% of your annual salary or more, this was a powerful motivator. It meant that every product team at Google was fully aligned on a project to cram G+ buttons into their product design. Whether or not these made sense for users, they always made sense for the product team, whose ability to take a fancy Christmas holiday, buy a new car, or pay their kids' private school tuition depended on getting you to use G+.

Once you understand how corporate growth stories are converted to "key performance indicators" that drive product design, many of the annoyances of digital services suddenly make a great deal of sense. You know how it's almost impossible to watch a show on a streaming video service without accidentally tapping a part of the screen that whisks you to a completely different video?

The reason you have to handle your phone like a photonegative while watching a movie – the reason every millimeter of screen real-estate has been boobytrapped with an icon that takes you somewhere else – is that streaming services believe that their customers are apt to leave when they feel like there's nothing new to watch. These bosses have made their product teams' bonuses dependent on successfully "recommending" a show you've never seen or expressed any interest in to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/15/the-fatfinger-economy/

Of course, bosses understand that their workers will be tempted to game this metric. They want to distinguish between "real" clicks that lead to interest in a new video, and fake fatfinger clicks that you instantaneously regret. The easiest way to distinguish between these two types of click is to measure how long you watch the new show before clicking away.

Of course, this is also entirely gameable: all the product manager has to do is take away the "back" button, so that an accidental click to a new video is extremely hard to cancel. The five seconds you spend figuring out how to get back to your show are enough to count as a successful recommendation, and the product team is that much closer to a luxury ski vacation next Christmas.

So this is why you keep invoking AI by accident, and why the AI that is so easy to invoke is so hard to dispel. Like a demon, a chatbot is much easier to summon than it is to rid yourself of.

Google is an especially grievous offender here. Familiar buttons in Gmail, Gdocs, and the Android message apps have been replaced with AI-summoning fatfinger traps. Android is filled with these pitfalls – for example, the bottom-of-screen swipe gesture used to switch between open apps now summons an AI, while ridding yourself of that AI takes multiple clicks.

This is an entirely material phenomenon. Google doesn't necessarily believe that you will ever want to use AI, but they must convince investors that their AI offerings are "getting traction." Google – like other tech companies – gets to invent metrics to prove this proposition, like "how many times did a user click on the AI button" and "how long did the user spend with the AI after clicking?" The fact that your entire "AI use" consisted of hunting for a way to get rid of the AI doesn't matter – at least, not for the purposes of maintaining Google's growth story.

Goodhart's Law holds that "When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure." For Google and other AI narrative-pushers, every measure is designed to be a target, a line that can be made to go up, as managers and product teams align to sell the company's growth story, lest we all sell off the company's shares.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/02/kpis-off/#principal-agentic-ai-problem

Image: Pogrebnoj-Alexandroff (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Index_finger_%3D_to_attention.JPG

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

--

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[sugarplum217]

Essence Of Loyalty (Pt.1)

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black Plus Size Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI (18+) contains sexual explicit content, heavy smut, spit play, oral sex, A VERY HEAVY USE OF “daddy” and “mama”, unprotected sex, cursing, major dirty talk, creampie, mentions of murder, lots of heavy sexual flirtation, detailed sexual acts , fluff

AuthorsNote: Please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors. I hope you enjoy the story and remember to be kind and if you want to be tagged in the next part let me know.

Summary: Everyone and their mama has been trying to either set you up on a date with someone or continuously remind you that your clock is ticking away. That you weren’t getting any younger and your looks would eventually fade. What they didn’t know is that you already had your special someone. In fact you’ve had him a while. You know how that saying goes, “Good things come to those who wait” and for you in this instance. It was nothing but the waiting game for your special someone to finally walk into your life. The question is .. would it be acceptable for everyone else?

You never expected to fall in love with a man behind bars. It started as nothing more than a random click—some late-night curiosity fueled by boredom and an ad that popped up between Facebook posts. Find love where you least expect it. Meet single men looking for companionship. You damn near scrolled past it, but something made you stop. Maybe it was the way the words “love” and “companionship” stood out, teasing something you didn’t realize you were craving. Maybe it was just the boredom, the same mundane routine of work, home, sleep, repeat, stretching on like a treadmill you couldn’t step off. Either way, you clicked. Scrolling through the profiles felt like flipping through a catalog you had no business browsing. Men of all ages and backgrounds, some looking for friendship, others for love. But none of them caught your attention. That is—until you saw him. Inmate 07541, Terrance Richmond. Baby, that mugshot stopped you cold. Rich buttery light caramel skin, sharp jawline, and full lips that looked like they could whisper secrets straight into your soul. His nose was strong, his features chiseled, but it was those damn piercing uniquely colored eyes that did it. Deep-set, hooded, with a stare so intense you could feel it through the screen. Something about them made your heart stutter—like he was looking at you, past you, into you. There was no forced smile, no tough-guy posturing. Just that stare. You hesitated, hovering over the message button. What the hell were you doing? Messaging a man serving time? A man who, according to his bio, had been locked up since he was 18? Still, curiosity won. You typed out a casual introduction—something light, something safe—and hit send. Then you pushed it to the back of your mind, fully expecting no response, but he wrote back. And not just some half-assed, one-line reply. He wrote you back.

That first message turned into another. And another. Emails became long letters, paragraphs bleeding into pages, until you found yourself rushing home from work just to see his name in your inbox. You learned everything about him—the way he used to play football before his life changed, the music he listened to, the books he read to escape the four walls of his cell. He told you about his past, the pain, the betrayal, the night everything changed. And you told him about yours—how life felt like it was happening at you instead of for you. How you wanted more, but you didn’t know what more even looked like. Then came the sweet video calls. The first time you saw him move, saw that sharp jaw flex when he smiled, heard that deep, velvety voice rumble straight through the screen—you were done. Hooked. Gone. Two years later, here you were. In a relationship—a real one, even if nobody knew. And in a few days, he’d be free. And that? That scared you more than anything.

“You always got an excuse, girl. What is tea?”Sonya’s voice snapped you back to the present, and you blinked, realizing your fork had been hovering over your plate for way too long. It was lunchtime at Taste Of The South Cafe, your usual Friday spot with the girls. The table was cluttered with half-empty margarita glasses, plates of fried catfish and mac and cheese, and the scent of honey butter croissants floating in the air. Normally, this was your escape from the monotony of work. But today? You were ready to go.

“I just wanna relax,” You half way lied, pushing your food around. Sonya wasn’t buying it. Neither was Deja.

“Girl, please,” Deja scoffed. “Every time we plan a girls’ night, your ass come up with something. What’s up? You sneakin’ around with somebody?”

“Ain’t nobody sneakin’.” You forced a laugh, shaking your head. 

“Then why you always rushin’ home like you got a man waitin’ on you?” Sonya arched a brow, swirling her margarita.

“Because I do.” You thought to yourself. But you didn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged, hoping they’d let it go. They didn’t.

“You sure it ain’t that new dude in accounting?” Deja pressed. “The one with the Audi and the beard? Girl, he is fine.”

“Not my type,” You said quickly.

Sonya snorted. “And what is your type? Because last time I checked, you were single as hell.”

You just smiled, keeping your real thoughts locked up tight. Because your type wasn’t something you could explain to them. Your type wasn’t sitting in an office, making six figures, and posting gym selfies on Instagram. Your type was locked behind bars. A man who had spent more of his life inside than out. A man whose voice alone made your thighs clench, whose absence felt like a missing limb. But they wouldn’t get that. So you just laughed it off, switched the subject, and counted down the hours until you could talk to him. The day dragged. By the time you made it to your car, your feet were aching, your patience was shot, and you were tired. But none of that mattered. Because in just a few minutes, he’d be calling. The drive home was full of bumper-to-bumper traffic and the usual call from your mama.

“Hey ma” You greeted, honking the car in front of you to move their ass. 

“Hey my baby. You comin’ to dinner this weekend?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You make a face, thanking god she can’t see you.

“Good. Your sister’s bringing her fiancé.” She said, her tone laced with excitement. Of course, she was. Your older sister had the picture-perfect life—a man, a ring, a timeline that fit neatly into the family’s expectations.

“And he’s bringing his brother,” You mother added casually.

You sighed. “Ma—”

“Just be open-minded! You’re a beautiful girl, and you ain’t gettin’ any younger.” She reminded for the hundredth time. You gritted your teeth, gripping the steering wheel. If only she knew. But you decided to let it go. 

“I’ll see you Saturday.” You shook your head, hanging up.By the time you got home, it was 6:59pm. You barely had time to drop your purse before your phone lit up with that Incoming Call from your ‘Big Daddy’. You squealed, feeling your heart flip. 

You snatched it up, answering with a smile. “Hey, baby.”

“Damn, I needed to hear your voice.” A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, deep enough to send heat pooling between your thighs. 

You melted instantly. “Long day?”

“Long as hell,” He sighed. “But I knew I’d be hearin’ from you, so I got through it.”

Your chest tightened. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? I missed you more baby” He smirked. You could hear it in his voice. “Tell me about your day, baby.”

So you did. You told him everything—lunch with your nosy-ass friends, your mama trying to set you up. And he listened quietly like always when it came to your day and what crazy ass story you had ready for him. That was one of the many things you loved about Terry, how he could just listen and never get tired of you talking. 

“Don’t sweat that shit, baby. You got a man.” He chuckled, low and smooth. That possessiveness made your toes curl.

“Yeah?” you teased. “I got a man?”

“Hell yeah,” He murmured. “And in a few days, you gon’ have me in every way possible.”

Your breath hitched and your body got hot. Because in just a few days, Terry Richmond would be free. And you would finally be his.  You adjusted the phone against your ear, stretching out on the couch, letting his voice roll over you like thick honey.

“You talkin’ real reckless, Mr. Terrance,” you teased, biting your lip. “What makes you think you gettin’ all this good good so easy?”

A deep, knowing chuckle rumbled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. “Baby,” He drawled, voice rich and slow like he was savoring every syllable. “Don’t play wit’ me. You and I both know the second I touch down, I’ma have you laid out for me, just how I like it.”

“Oh yeah?” Your thighs pressed together at the promise in his tone.

“Hell yeah. First thing I’m doin’ is spreadin’ them thighs, makin’ up for lost time. You know I been starvin’ for you. Ain’t had a taste of sweet pussy in years. I need my plate, ma.” He stated, making your breath hitch and heat coil in your lower belly. 

“Terry…” You breathed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Say my name just like that when I’m between them legs,” He murmured. “Matter fact, scream it. I’ma put my mouth on every inch of you. Them thighs? Mine. Them hips? Mine. That spot you say makes you weak right under your belly button? I’m kissin’ it first. And you already know where I’m endin’ up.”

Your body responded to his words instantly, your nipples tightening against the fabric of your blouse. The ache between your thighs grew unbearable. You were so tempted to rub on your clit as he talked to you, but you knew big daddy’s rules. You weren’t allowed to touch yourself at all unless he gave the permission and could listen to you without any interruptions. 

“You talkin’ crazy,” You whispered, your voice thick with need.

“Nah, baby, I’m talkin’ facts. You gon’ see. Soon as I get out, you ain’t leavin’ that bed for at least three days.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, so I’m just gonna be held hostage?” You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt.

“Damn right,” He said without hesitation. “Ain’t no way I been locked up this long just to finally get my hands on you and let you go. Shit, you gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe.”

Your stomach flipped. You wanted that. Needed that. But then, reality settled back in. The system didn’t make things easy.

“Speaking of that…What did your lawyer say about your release date? Will you be out on my birthday like we want?” You exhaled, shifting the phone closer to your ear. It was silence for a moment. The weight of it pressed heavy between you, thick and uncertain. You held your breath preparing for the worst case scenario possible. 

“They still pushin’ for my original release date, but you know how this shit go. Paperwork, red tape, all that. My lawyer confident, though. He say if everything lines up, I should be out right on time. Maybe even a couple days before.” Terry let out a slow breath.

“For real?” Your chest tightened with cautious hope. 

“For real, baby. But…” He hesitated. “You know they been tryin’ to trip me up in here. COs, some of these jealous-ass inmates. They know I’m close to freedom, and they hate that shit. I gotta keep my head low, stay out the way, but it’s hard sometimes. Real hard.”

“They still on that bullshit?” Your jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” He muttered. “They hate a nigga like me gettin’ a second chance. And these lame ass inmates tryna set me up don’t help either.”

“Terry, I swear to God if they—”You closed your eyes, frustration bubbling inside you.

“Relax, mama,” He said, voice dropping into that deep, soothing register that always made you weak. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I promise you that. I done made it through too much to let these motherfuckers take my freedom again.”

“Baby, please promise me you won’t do nothin’ to mess this up. I need you here. I need you home.” You frowned, Terry remained silent allowing you to vent because he knew this was becoming harder everyday for you to cope with. You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I just…” You hesitated, then admitted softly, “I just need you here. I don’t want anything messin’ this up. My 28th birthday… Terry, all I want is you.”

“I know, ma. Trust me, I know.” His voice softened, turning serious. “You the only thing keepin’ me sane in here. The only thing keepin’ me goin’. I promise you, I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ get in the way of me comin’ home to you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.” You inhaled deeply, letting his words settle over you. 

“You got me for life baby,” He said assuring you, voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, baby. If I gotta fight every damn day until that judge signs my release, I’ma do it. ‘Cause you worth it. We worth it.”

“You better mean that,” You whispered. Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“I do. And when I’m finally out, when I got you in my arms, I’ma make sure you never question that again.”

“I love you so much.” You exhaled shakily.

“I love you more, baby.” He bit his lip, feeling his heart speed up. 

“You swear you gonna come home to me, Terry?” You exhaled, stretching your legs out on the couch, your free hand absently trailing over your bare thigh. 

“Baby, listen to me.” His voice came through the receiver, deep and unwavering. “I need you to hear me when I say this. Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I done wasted enough years locked up, dreamin’ about what it feel like to be free, to wake up next to a woman who actually give a damn about me. I ain’t lettin’ no CO, no hating-ass inmate, no system take that from me.”

You closed your eyes, soaking in his words. A small tear escaped your eyes as you just let him talk and calm all of your fears. 

“And you really think I’m about to let you be out here spendin’ another birthday without me? Nah, ma. That ain’t happenin’.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Matter fact, you should start gettin’ ready now, ‘cause soon as I step through that door, I’m givin’ you somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah? What you givin’ me, Terry?” A slow smile spread across your lips. 

“Ain’t it obvious? My last name, first of all.” He stated matter of factly. 

“Boy, stop playin’.” Your breath caught in your throat.

“Who playin’?” He challenged. “You really think I been doin’ all this talkin’, dreamin’ about you, makin’ plans, just to be out here on some casual shit? Nah, baby. You my woman. And when I get home, I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You ain’t gon’ be nobody else’s but mine.”

Heat spread through your chest, settling deep in your belly. He always had a way of making you feel claimed, but this? This was different. This felt all too real and that he was promising you the moon and the stars and would actually reach up in the damn sky and get it for you. 

“Terry…” You purred slightly. 

“Say it again,” He murmured, voice dropping to that low, dangerous octave that always did something to you. “Say my name just like that.”

“Terry.” Your lips parted, slowing your words down for him. 

“Mmm,” He groaned. “That’s what I wanna hear every morning, every night. That’s what I wanna hear when I’m makin’ love to you, when I’m in it so deep you forget how to say anything else.”

“You tryna kill me, huh?” You sucked in a breath, your thighs pressing together instinctively. 

“Nah, ma. Just tryna remind you who you belong to.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

You chewed your lip, heart pounding against your ribs. The thought of him finally being here, of feeling him, touching him, owning him in the flesh—it was almost too much.

“Terry…” You started, voice soft, hesitant.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He adjusted the phone on his ear, eyebrows furrowing. You hesitated a moment afraid to tell him what’s really been on your mind. Afraid he wouldn’t understand but truth was Terry was more than understanding when it came to you. 

“I just… I keep thinking about what’s gonna happen once you’re really here. Like, when it’s not just phone calls and emails. When it’s real. When it’s us.” You honestly confessed, sighing. You heard a brief pause making your stomach tighten out of angst. You held your breath afraid he’d be upset but after a few seconds, he then spoke gently. 

”That’s what you scared of?” He asked, voice soft. 

You swallowed. “Not scared, just… it’s gonna be different. You been inside since you were 18, Terry. That’s—” You did the math in your head, stomach twisting. “Seventeen years. That’s a long time.”

“I know,” He said simply. “You think I don’t know that? Every damn day, I been countin’ down to this moment. I know it’s gon’ be an adjustment. I ain’t naive to that, baby. But what I do know is that I want this. You. I ain’t spent two years fallin’ in love with you for nothin’. And I damn sure ain’t finna let somethin’ as small as a transition period shake me.”

You exhaled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I just want you to be happy, Terry.”

“I am happy, ma. You make me happy.” He professed from his heart, making your heart squeeze and stomach flutter. 

“Now,” He continued, voice laced with that familiar hunger. “Can we get back to what I was sayin’? ‘Cause I still got a whole list of things I plan to do to you soon as I get out.”

“Oh yeah? Go ‘head then, baby. I’m listenin’.” Your stomach flipped.

Terry exhaled through the receiver, the sound slow and deliberate. “Aight, so… First thing I’m doin’ soon as I step through that door? I’m droppin’ my bag, pullin’ you close, and kissin’ you like I been starvin’ for it.”

“Mmmm.” You bit your lip, already picturing the scene.

“Ain’t gon’ be no soft, sweet shit neither. Nah,” He rumbled. “I’m talkin’ about deep, wet, tongue all in your mouth, my hands locked around that waist, pullin’ you so tight you feel my dick pressin’ up against you.”

“Damn, Big Daddy. Can I at least take my heels off first?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Hell nah,” He said smoothly. “Matter fact, leave ‘em on. I want you just like that. Fresh off work, tight lil’ skirt ridin’ up, them pretty ass legs wrapped ‘round my waist while I pin you up against the door.”

“Oh shit..” Your entire body heated at the image. You had to fan yourself, and cross your legs to avoid any wetness seeping out. 

“You know how long I been dreamin’ about that, baby?” His voice dropped an octave, turning into something dark, possessive. “Seventeen years. Seventeen years I been locked in this hellhole, surrounded by nothin’ but concrete and steel, knowin’ I ain’t got a real woman to touch, to taste, to claim. And then you came along…”

“B-Baby..” A soft gasp slipped from your lips. You squeezed your thighs shut tighter, already soaking your panties. 

“And now all I can think about is how you gon’ feel underneath me. How soft your skin is. How good you smell. How sweet you taste.” He growled lowly in your ear. 

“Shit.” You cursed, shifting on the couch, thighs pressing together.

“Mmm,” He hummed knowingly. “You wet for me, ain’t you?”

“Terry—” You swallowed.

“Nah, don’t try to play it off now,” He interrupted. “I know you, ma. I know you sittin’ there, grippin’ that phone tight, breathin’ all heavy, body heatin’ up just listenin’ to me talk. I don’t even need to be there to know how bad you want me.”

“You lucky you locked up.” You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

“Lucky? Nah, baby. Unlucky. ‘Cause if I was home right now, I’d have you laid out, ass up, back arched, moanin’ my name so loud the neighbors call the cops.”He chuckled, voice dripping with amusement.

“Boy, stop!” You laughed, shaking your head. “You talk all that shit, I hope you got the stamina to back it up.”

Terry clicked his tongue. “Oh, you doubtin’ me? That’s crazy. Lemme find out my baby think I ain’t gon’ put in work.”

“I mean, it has been a long time, Big Papa,” You teased.

“Aight,” He drawled, tone dangerous. “Keep playin’ with me. You gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe when I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, so smooth and confident like he had zero doubt in his ability to back up every single word. The next few hours passed in a blur, the two of you tangled in conversation like it was your own little world. Terry told you about the meals he was craving—real food, not that processed mess they served on metal trays. He wanted collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, fried chicken, all made by you. “I need a home-cooked meal, baby. Something made with love,” He said, his voice full of longing. You laughed and promised to have a whole spread waiting for him. Then the conversation shifted to the small things—how he couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed, how he wanted to go outside at night just to feel the wind on his face without fences in the way, how he wanted to sit on the couch with you and watch a movie with your legs draped over his lap. “Shit like that, ma,” He murmured. “The simple stuff. That’s what I miss the most.”

And you listened, hanging onto his every word, feeling your heart swell with each confession. The world had taken so much from him, stripped him of so many years, but somehow, he still had softness in him. He still had love to give. You found yourself telling him about all the things you wanted to do together, too—how you wanted to take him out to eat at a real restaurant, go on a drive late at night just because, lay up with him on a Sunday morning while the smell of breakfast filled the apartment. The more you talked, the more the reality of him coming home settled deep inside you. “You really gon’ take care of me, huh?” he asked, his voice low and full of something tender. “You damn right,” you whispered. “Somebody gotta make up for all that time you lost.”

If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with a man behind bars, you would’ve laughed in their face. You always wanted love, prayed for it even, but you never imagined it would come in the form of Terry Richmond—a man with a past heavier than most, a man who had seen the worst parts of life and still found a way to hold onto his soul. He was the most fascinating, most alluring man you’d ever known, and you had never been more open with anyone in your life. You craved him in ways that scared you sometimes. You wanted to be the one to feed him, to run him a hot bath and wash years of struggle off his skin. You wanted to rub his shoulders, his chest, his back, to remind him that he was human, that he was home. And the way he talked to you, the way he poured into you, made you feel like you were already his sanctuary.

After you finally got off the phone, you moved into your nighttime routine, taking your time washing your face, patting your skin dry, smoothing your serums in like a ritual. You stared at yourself in the mirror, thinking about how your life was about to change. In just a few days, he’d be here, in your space, in your bed, in your life outside of those prison walls. As you reached for your bonnet and wrapped it securely around your head, your phone buzzed on the counter. FaceTime. Mama. You sighed, knowing she’d scold you if you didn’t answer, so you slid your thumb across the screen and propped the phone up.

“Hey, Mama,” You greeted, already bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” She said, peering at you through the screen. “Just callin’ to say goodnight and check on you before you went to bed.”  

“I’m alright , Mama. Just gettin’ ready for bed. Doing my usual routine.” You smiled. 

“Mm-hmm,” She hummed, then her face lit up. “Oh! Guess who I ran into today? You remember Kiana Perkins from high school?”

You frowned, digging through your memory. “Kiana Perkins… oh yeah, the one who used to run track?”

“Yes, her! Baby, she married now, got two babies, livin’ all happy with her husband. She showed me pictures and everything. And I just… I don’t know, baby, it got me thinkin’.” She started in on you. 

“Mama—” You groaned internally.

She held up a hand. “I know what you ‘bout to say, but hear me out. You not gettin’ any younger, baby. I just want you to have somebody. You always been my dumplin’, my soft-hearted baby, and I just—” She sighed. “I just want you to be loved, baby. I want somebody to take care of you for once.”

You bit your lip, heart squeezing at her words, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know that you did have somebody. That you had Terry. That soon, you wouldn’t be coming home to an empty bed anymore. You leaned back against the bathroom counter, swallowing the lump in your throat as your mother continued, her voice full of concern. 

“You know, I just don’t want you to end up like me, raising a family all on your own. You’ve got so much to offer, baby, don’t let it go to waste.” She paused, waiting for you to respond, but you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t—not yet. Terry was still behind those walls, and the world wasn’t ready for your truth. Not yet.

“I hear you, Mama,” You said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But I’m good. I’m happy with how things are right now.”

She eyed you, her brow furrowing, but she didn’t push it. “Alright,” she finally said, her tone softening. “Just don’t wait too long, baby. Time don’t wait for nobody.”

“I won’t, Mama. Promise,” You replied, though you knew the promise wasn’t to her. It was to yourself. You weren’t going to waste any more time. The conversation moved on, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not telling her about Terry. She didn’t know that every night, you fell asleep with thoughts of him, that his voice had become the lullaby you never knew you needed. You thought about his touch, his words, the way he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. But for now, it was a secret. Your secret. You wrapped up the call with your mother, promising to be at Sunday dinner over the weekend, and hung up. The air felt thick now, like the weight of your own desires had settled in your chest. You finished getting ready for bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Terry, wondering if he was thinking about you too, wondering how much longer you’d have to wait before he was finally home. As you slipped under the

covers, your mind drifted to your happy place and that was Terry. Eventually after saying a quick silent prayer for him and his safety like you did every night, you finally went to sleep. 

The morning light seeped through the blinds, casting long golden streaks across your bedroom. You lay there for a moment, tangled in your silk sheets, staring at the ceiling with a heavy mind. The anticipation sat on your chest like a weight. Today could be the day you got answers—real answers—about Terry’s release. No more guesswork, no more waiting in limbo. Either he’d be home in time for your birthday, or he wouldn’t. And if it was up to you, there wouldn’t be a wouldn’t. Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, shaking you from your thoughts. The number was unfamiliar, but you knew who it had to be before you even swiped to answer.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy, thick with sleep, but there was an urgency beneath it.

“Good morning, this is Michael Walker, Terry Richmond’s attorney.” The voice on the other end was smooth, professional, but you caught that slight edge—like he was bracing himself for a conversation you might not want to have. “I wanted to give you an update on his case. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. What’s the update?” You pushed yourself upright, resting your back against the headboard.

Michael exhaled. “So here’s where we are. We’re still waiting on the judge’s final decision regarding his release. As you know, we’ve been pushing hard for full release instead of parole, but the system moves at its own pace. Right now, it’s looking like one of two things will happen—either the judge will sign off on his release, and he’ll be free to come home, or he’ll be granted parole with conditions.”

Your stomach twisted at the word “conditions.” That could mean anything. A curfew. Mandatory check-ins. Restrictions on where he could go, what he could do. You wanted Terry free—not still tangled in the system’s web.

“Is there a chance he’ll be home by my birthday?” You asked, your voice smaller than you intended.

Michael hesitated. That damn hesitation. You hated it. “That’s what we’re aiming for,” He said finally. “But it’s all in the judge’s hands. We’re doing everything we can to make it happen, but we need to be realistic.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I just… I need him home.” The words left you before you could stop them, more vulnerable than you wanted to sound.

“I get it,” Michael said, and for the first time, there was something softer in his tone. “But here’s the thing—you need to make sure Terry understands how important it is for him to stay in line right now. He’s close. So damn close. But if he gets into it with the COs, if he so much as breathes wrong in there, it could delay everything. Or worse.”

A lump formed in your throat. Terry had been through hell in that prison. You knew how hard it was for him to bite his tongue, to play the game when the guards disrespected him just for breathing. You also knew how much some of those inmates hated to see another Black man about to touch freedom. Envy was a dangerous thing.

“I’ll talk to him,” You said firmly. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good,” Michael replied. “I’ll keep you posted on any updates. Until then, just keep him focused on what’s waiting for him on the outside.”

And that’s exactly what you planned to do. Because he was coming home. To you. To the life y’all had spent two years dreaming up. And you weren’t about to let anything or anyone take that away. The weight of everything that needed to be done before Terry came home sat on your shoulders like a mix of excitement and pressure. There was so much to prepare, so much to buy, so much to perfect before your man walked through that door and took his rightful place in your life. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, cologne—he was stepping into a world he hadn’t been a part of since he was barely legal, and you were determined to make sure he had everything he needed to start fresh. And then there was you. Your own upkeep was just as important. You wanted to look good good for him. A fresh Brazilian wax so your skin was baby smooth, eyebrows snatched, lashes full and fluttery, and your hair? Oh, that had to be flawless—not just for your birthday but because you already knew he was going to have it all over the place by the end of the night. You could already hear the headboard knocking, already feel his breath on your skin, already picture the way he’d grip you like he was making up for lost time. The thought alone made your stomach tighten with anticipation.

But beyond all the surface-level preparation, there was a deeper feeling swirling inside you. Letting a man you’d only seen through a screen and heard through a receiver move into your home was a huge step. Some would call it crazy. Hell, a part of you knew it was risky, but love had never been about playing it safe. And with Terry? It had never felt like a risk. It felt right. He was your soulmate—plain and simple. The man you wanted to

wake up to, fall asleep with, build a family with. You’d spent two years loving him from a distance, and now, you were stepping into a reality where he was yours in every way. You weren’t naive to the adjustments that would come with it, but you also weren’t afraid. He was worth it.

With a stretch and a soft sigh, you finally pulled yourself out of bed, the silk of your nightgown clinging to your curves as you padded across your bedroom. It barely covered your ass, the hem rising with each step, and you lazily reached for your robe, wrapping it around you before making your way into the kitchen. The house was still, quiet, but soon, it would be filled with his presence. Him walking around shirtless, his deep voice filling up every room, his scent lingering on the furniture. You couldn’t wait. As you reached for the fridge, your eyes landed on the Polaroid photo of him taped to the door—one of the few glimpses of him outside of a call or a video chat. He had sent it during one of the rare inmate photo days, his expression serious but his eyes still burning with something that made your stomach flip. Damn, you fine. You ran a finger over the image, smiling to yourself before pulling out the eggs and milk.

The one thing people probably wouldn’t understand was why you had never visited him in prison. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God knew you had begged to. But Terry? Terry was territorial to his core. It had taken months of back-and-forth, of pleading and arguing, before you finally accepted that he wasn’t going to let you step foot in that visiting room. He didn’t want no prison guards or inmates looking at his woman—studying you, lusting after you, imagining things about you that only he was allowed to. You belonged to him, and the thought of other men—especially those locked up with him—laying their eyes on you sent him into a rage he didn’t even try to hide. It wasn’t just possessiveness; it was protection. He had seen too many things go left in that place, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be a part of any of it. So, you let it go, trusting that the day would come when you wouldn’t have to love him from a distance. That day was almost here.

You were in the middle of whisking the batter for your waffles when your phone vibrated on the counter. Without hesitation, you snatched it up, already knowing who it was.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Terry’s deep, raspy voice sent a warmth down your spine. His morning voice was dangerous.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” You hummed, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you continued mixing. “How’d you sleep?”

“Would’ve slept better with you underneath me,” He murmured, the smirk in his tone evident. “What my baby got planned for today?”

You bit your lip, smiling. “Just a quick Target and BJ’s run to stock the house up for you, then I gotta get my nails done. Oh, and I gotta swing by the post office to pick up my bundles that came in.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Mmm, you tryna get fine for Big Daddy?”

“Mmhmm.” You giggled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.

“Damn, girl…” His voice dropped a little lower, and you could almost see him licking his lips on the other end. “Ima eat that pussy like crazy, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched, a heat sparking between your thighs. “Terry!” You squealed, laughing. “Stop being nasty!”

“Nah, I’m deadass serious.” His tone was dark, full of hunger. “You don’t even know what you got coming.”

You took a steadying breath, trying to shake off the goosebumps crawling up your skin. “Listen, nasty man, we need to talk.” Your tone shifted, getting serious. “Your attorney called me this morning. We need to discuss what he told me.”

“What he say?” There was a pause before he answered with a serious tone. 

You exhaled. “Baby…” You gripped the phone tighter, staring at the batter as if it had the answers. “It’s about your release.”

Terry was silent for a moment, and you could feel the shift in his energy through the phone. That easy, teasing tone from before was gone, replaced by something heavier—something cautious.

“What about it?” His voice was lower now, tight with restraint.

You sighed, setting the whisk down and gripping the edge of the counter. “He said they’re still waiting on the judge to sign off, and it could go either way. Either parole or full release.” You paused, running your tongue over your lips. “I asked if you’d be home by my birthday, and he said that’s what they’re pushing for, but the judge has to approve it first and it appears the judge is taking their sweet ass time. Same shit you told me last night.” 

“Man… I been waiting years for this moment. If they try to stall this shit…” Terry sucked his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Baby, don’t even put that energy in the air,” You cut in quickly, gripping the phone. “It’s gonna happen. You just gotta hold tight.”

“I’m tryna hold tight, ma, but you don’t understand. I been locked down since I was eighteen. Half my life. I done played by they rules, kept my nose clean, did everything I was supposed to do. And now, when it’s finally my time to touch down, they wanna drag they feet?” His frustration was raw, and you didn’t blame him one bit.

“That’s why we gotta be smart about this,” You soothed, lowering your voice. “Your attorney said you need to walk a fine line, Terry. These COs and some of them inmates? They don’t want to see you win, baby. You getting out means they lose power over you. And if you let ‘em get under your skin, if you give them any reason to stall this—”

“I know, baby,” He gritted, cutting you off. “I ain’t stupid.”

“I never said you were,” You softened, biting your lip. “But you know they’ll do anything to keep a black man locked up. You know that. You can’t afford to slip.”

Another deep sigh. “I just wanna be with you, ma,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, the vulnerability cutting through all the frustration. “That’s all I been holding on to. You. Us. The life we ‘bout to have.”

“And you will be with me, Terry. Soon. I promise.” Your heart clenched, and you closed your eyes for a second.

“You the only thing keeping me sane right now, baby,” He muttered. “You really are.”

“And you the only man I want. Ain’t nothing gon’ change that.” You swallowed hard, that warmth creeping back into your chest.

He went quiet for a beat, then, “Damn, you really love me, huh?”

“Boy, you already know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Say it,” He murmured.

“I love you, Terrance Richmond.” You bit your lip, smiling. 

A deep exhale came through the line, like those words alone were enough to ground him. “I love you too, ma. More than you even know.”

“You better love me with your fine self.” You giggled, continuing to whisk the batter. He chuckled lowly, the sound making your ears perk up at the nostalgic sound.

“You know I want a baby soon as possible, right? Just like we talked about.” Terry’s voice dipped even lower, that familiar edge of possession curling around his words. 

“I know, baby.” You bit your lip, warmth spreading through your belly at the certainty in his tone.

“Nah,” He pressed. “I mean, soon as I get home, I’m filling you up. I ain’t playing.”

A giggle bubbled out of you. “Well, that’s good to know,”  You teased, twisting a strand of hair between your fingers. “Because I already got off my birth control, and I’m ovulating real soon.”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale from Terry. “You serious?”

“Mmhmm.” A smirk played on your lips 

“Good,” He growled. “‘Cause I ain’t pulling out. I want you pregnant, mama. You carrying my son or my baby girl. I already see it.”

A deep shudder rolled through you at the sheer conviction in his voice. There was no hesitation, no doubt—he wanted this, just like you did. Now you knew having a baby before a ring wasn’t the most conventional thing. You were raised better than that, taught that marriage first was the way to go, that being someone’s “baby mama” wasn’t the move. But Terry? He wasn’t that type of man. This wasn’t some half-thought-out, heat-of-the-moment decision. You knew exactly what you were signing up for. From the moment you told him you wanted his baby, he made it crystal clear—both you and that child would have his last name. There would be no question, no hesitation. You weren’t about to be just someone’s BM. You were his woman, his future wife.

The plan was already in motion—soon as he got out, y’all were hitting the courthouse and making it official. No long engagement, no drawn-out wedding planning stress. He wanted to be your husband immediately. And once he was settled, once he was back on his feet, working and bringing in real money, then he’d give you that big wedding, the

one with the flowers, the dress, the family all gathered to watch you walk down the aisle. But for now? The paper, the commitment, you—that’s what mattered most to him.

It wasn’t like you weren’t set up already. You made damn good money, and your degree in business administration had you sitting pretty in a high-paying corporate consulting job, helping multi-million-dollar firms streamline their operations. Your salary was more than enough to hold things down while Terry got back on his feet, and you’d already mapped out a business plan to help him reintegrate. Finding a job after doing seventeen years inside wasn’t easy, but you had resources, connections, a plan. You weren’t just bringing him home—you were making sure he stayed home. You were building a life with this man, and every step of it felt right.

“You think your family gon’ like me?” Terry exhaled through the phone, his deep voice softening just a little. Your smile, bright and easy just seconds ago, slowly faded. It was a fair question. A real one. But it wasn’t an easy one to answer. You knew your mama. Sweet, nurturing, and warm when she wanted to be, but judgmental as hell. A devout Christian woman—saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost. She wasn’t fond of anything remotely sinful, and Terry… well, Terry was the walking definition of sinful.

There was no denying he was a fine-ass man. That wasn’t the issue. Standing tall at 6’3”, with those piercing hazel eyes that seemed to shift between ocean-gray and a stormy blue-green depending on the light. Rich, light caramel skin that deepened into a golden bronze in the summer but softened into a fairer hue in the colder months. A strong, chiseled jawline that made him look both dangerous and regal. His lips? Plump, full, always looking like they were ready to be kissed—or used for something far nastier. His short-cropped curly fro was just long enough to grab, and those thick, corded muscles? Yeah. His time behind bars didn’t just sculpt his body—it turned him into a damn statue, cut from flesh instead of marble. His tattoos, inked along his thick arms, added to his edge. Especially that sleeve—his latest one, a masterpiece he got done while inside.

He was the kind of man that turned heads when he walked into a room. The kind that made women cross their legs and bite their lip. But he wasn’t the “good, God-fearing man” your mother had envisioned for you. Terry was the complete opposite. And yet, his heart was the purest thing about him. Despite his past, despite the anger and the hurt buried deep in his soul, he was a good man. A gentle soul trapped in an exterior so hard, so intimidating, most people never got to see the real him.

You inhaled sharply, trying to find the right words. “Baby, I gotta be honest with you.”

“Mmhmm?” His voice was calm. 

You sighed. “I don’t know. My mama… she can be a bit much. And the fact that I’ve been hiding this—hiding us—for the past two years? Oh, she gon’ have a fit. And my sister? Whew, she gon’ have a mouth full too. You’d probably have better luck with my aunties than my own mama.”

Terry chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your stomach flutter. “I get it, baby. I do.” His voice was soft, understanding. “But I ain’t going nowhere. She can side-eye me, throw oil on me, pray over me ‘til she blue in the face—I’m still gon’ be here. And I’ma do whatever I can to make her love me. To make her see I ain’t some monster. ‘Cause I want this, ma. I want us. I want your family to be my family, too.”

That made you smile. A big one. The kind that deepened your dimples and warmed you from the inside out. But there was something else weighing on you. Something heavy. Something you knew Terry wouldn’t want to talk about, but you had to ask.

You hesitated before carefully pushing forward. “Baby… you gon’ reach out to your mama once you’re free?”

“Nah, Y/N. I’m not.” He answered, his voice, tight and clipped. 

You swallowed. “Baby—”

“Ain’t like she gave a fuck about me in the first place,” he cut you off, his voice colder now. “I’m in here ‘cause of her. You know that.”

“I know. I do. But, baby… you gotta forgive. Not for her. For you. You need peace, Terry. You deserve that.” You exhaled slowly. His breathing was heavier now, like he was trying to keep himself from slipping into that dark place. You hated when he went there. When the bitterness and resentment started to eat away at him.

“I got peace, baby. I got you.” His voice softened just a little, but you could still hear the hurt beneath it. “That’s all I need.”

“I hear you baby.” You softly replied. You decided to respect his wishes and let the conversation about his mother rest. He had been through enough, and you weren’t about to push him into something he wasn’t ready for. Instead, you brightened up, shifting the energy as you let out a little squeal.

“Oh! Baby, my birthday dress came!” You announced excitedly, twirling a loose curl around your finger. “I can’t wait for you to see me in it.”

Terry’s smirk was damn near audible through the phone. “Oh yeah?” His voice dropped an octave, turning rich and smooth like warm honey. “That’s cool, baby… ‘cause I can’t wait to take that shit off you.”

“It is literally nine in the morning, and you already on go.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Because I got this pretty, brown-eyed woman waiting on me,” He murmured. “And I can’t stop staring at her picture, picturing our life together beyond these walls. I just need my woman bad.” He let out a breath, voice thick with longing. “I wanna turn your body inside out, have you laid up exhausted, and then make you breakfast in the morning while you recover, boo.”

“Leave the cooking to me, Richmond. Don’t need you burning our house up.” You smirked, scratching your head. You hadn’t even realized you said it like that—our house—until the words left your lips. But Terry caught it instantly. His heart swelled, warmth spreading through his chest like wildfire.

“Our,” He repeated, grinning through the phone. “I like the sound of that. And don’t worry, baby. I could never destroy anything of ours.” His words settled over you like a warm embrace, making your stomach flutter.

Terry cleared his throat after a beat. “So, your girls still takin’ you out for your birthday?”

“Mmhmm,” You confirmed, stretching lazily. “We’re hitting this grown and sexy lounge. Got a section, a table, should be real nice. I just wanted something low-key. Nothing too crazy.”

Terry hummed in approval. “That’s what’s up. You think your girls gon’ accept me?”

You snorted. “They’re gonna love you. Especially Deja. Sonya, though… she might take a minute. She’s Miss Fake Bougie, swearing she a real housewife of Atlanta. But deep down, she’s chill. Just real protective of me.”

Terry let out a low chuckle. “Aight, sounds like a plan, baby girl. Long as they ain’t plotting to run me off, we cool.”

“Never that.” You smiled, resting your chin in your hand, leaning on the countertop.

“Mm. Aight, tell me this, then—what’s the first meal I’m getting when I come home?” He inquired, with a devious smirk. 

“Well, I was thinking… me.” Your voice became real seductive, tilting your head. 

Terry’s laughter rumbled through the phone, low and sinful. “Ain’t no thinking, that’s a guarantee. But just to be safe, cook us something for after, ‘cause we gon’ need the strength.”

“Terry, you so damn silly.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head at him.

“You love it,” He teased, and he wasn’t wrong. Because behind all that reserved, stoic energy, Terry Richmond was a damn goofball at heart. And he was your goofball. The conversation between you and Terry continued, the two of you just vibing, killing time before you had to finally pull yourself away and get in the shower. He told you about a wild dream he had last night—some crazy mix of old memories and future fantasies of the two of you together.

“Man, I swear, I had the realest dream, baby,” He said, voice lazy and deep. “We was laid up in this big-ass house, had the baby in the crib next to us… you was wearin’ my T-shirt, lookin’ all sexy with your lil’ bonnet on, and I just kept pullin’ you closer, not even tryna let you sleep.”

“So you gon’ keep me up even in your dreams?” You laughed, rolling onto your side, twirling the bedsheets between your fingers. 

“Hell yeah,” He said without hesitation. “I been starvin’, baby. Soon as I touch down, I’m eatin’ you up, kissin’ on you, makin’ love to you every chance I get. You gon’ be sick of me.”

“Never that daddy,” You murmured, feeling warmth spread through your body at just the thought of how it would feel to finally have him home.

“Bet,” He chuckled, then let out a deep sigh. “I just be sittin’ in this cell picturing it, picturing us—you in the tub, all soaped up, candles lit, slow jams playin’… me right behind you, holdin’ you close, runnin’ my hands all over that soft ass skin, kissing up your neck… licking on your nipples..”

Your breath hitched, already envisioning the exact same thing. You had put together a playlist for his arrival—nothing but the smoothest 90s and early 2000s R&B, songs that made you wanna melt into somebody’s arms.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about?” You asked, biting your lip.

“What, baby?”  He feigned innocence.

“How you gon’ be sneakin’ into the shower while I’m tryna get ready for work,” you giggled. “Talkin’ about, ‘lemme wake you up the right way’—like I don’t have places to be!”

Terry laughed but then hummed in approval. “Shit, I am waking you up the right way. Gon’ have you walkin’ into work with a smile so big, they gon’ know somebody put it there.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought, heat rising to your cheeks. You were so gone for this man. “You just wait, Richmond,”You teased, sighing dramatically. “You about to be a full-time distraction.”

“That’s my plan, baby.” He grinned through the phone. 

After a few more minutes of sweet talk, you finally sighed. “Alright, I need to get in the shower before I lay here and talk to you all day.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Terry teased. “I just wanna hear the water runnin’. Let me close my eyes and imagine it.”

“Boy, bye!” You laughed, shaking your head before reluctantly hanging up.

—

The hot water cascaded over your skin as you leaned against the shower wall, letting the warmth soak into your muscles. Your mind was racing with all the intimate moments you’d been daydreaming about since Terry’s release date became a real possibility. Late nights soaking in the tub together, his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing along your shoulder. Waking up to him pulling you into his body, whispering in your ear before making love to you first thing in the morning. The idea of sharing a home, a bed, a life with him made your stomach flip with anticipation. You had been living alone for so long, moving on your own schedule, answering to no one. But now, there would be him. His things mixed with yours, his scent lingering in your sheets, his presence filling the empty spaces. And you couldn’t wait.

Once you finished luxuriating, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. You took your time getting dressed—pulling on a pair of black leggings that hugged your curves and a Nike sports bra, slipping into your most comfortable sneakers. You tied your hair into a sleek bun, then grabbed a baseball cap to shield your eyes from the Georgia sun. After grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30, you were just about to head out the door when your phone rang and you saw it was Sonya.

You sighed before answering, already bracing yourself. “What’s up, girl?”

“Mm, what you got going on today?” She asked, her tone full of suspicion, like she knew you were up to something.

“Just about to make a quick Target and BJ’s run,” You said casually, hoping she’d just let it go.

“Oh, perfect! I need to hit Target anyway! I’ll meet you there.” She stated. You internally cringed. Sonya didn’t know about Terry yet. And you definitely didn’t need her up in your cart asking a hundred questions about all the men’s products you were grabbing.

“Girl, I’m moving quick today,” You abruptly said, trying to throw her off. “Gotta be in and out, no time for browsing.”

“Please, you never just ‘run in’ anywhere,” Sonya scoffed. “I’ll keep up.”

“Sonya…” You huffed, rubbing your temple. 

“What?” She laughed. “Why you sound so stressed? You tryna move funny or somethin’?”

“You know I move funny, that ain’t new.”You let out a dry laugh. 

“Mhm, and that’s exactly why I’m coming.” She snickered. 

You sighed dramatically, knowing there was no way out of this now. “Fine, I’ll see you there,” You relented, already planning how you were going to strategically avoid letting her see all the things you were picking up for Terry. You hurried up and grabbed your car keys and your Stanley cup from your kitchen counter before heading right out the door to your car. You hit the unlock button on your key fob and heard the chirp. Sliding into the plush leather seat of your Mercedes-Benz, you place your Stanley cup in the cupholder before pressing the push-to-start button. The engine purrs to life, and before you can even adjust the air, the CarPlay screen lights up, immediately blasting the smooth, honeyed vocals of Maxwell’s “Fortunate” through the speakers.

Your heart leaps in excitement. “SING IT, MAXWELL!” You squeal, gripping the steering wheel and swaying your shoulders as if you’re right there on stage with him. 

This is your song. Terry’s song. The one he always sings to you over the phone—completely off-key but with so much passion, like he’s pouring every piece of himself into it. You can still hear him now—“I never sang a song with all my might…”—his deep, rough voice twisting the lyrics into something that sounds nothing like Maxwell, but you never cared. It was him. It was you. It was love. You pull out of the driveway, easing onto the streets of Atlanta, the sun gleaming against the hood of your Benz. The beat of the song wraps around you, filling every inch of the car with warmth. With one hand on the wheel and the other tapping rhythmically against your thigh, you let the city move around you, the skyline stretching high above as you feel the music, feel the love behind every lyric. Terry is coming home. Soon. And as Maxwell’s voice croons through the speakers, you let yourself dream—of slow dances in the living room, of his arms pulling you close as you sway to this very song, of him pressing soft kisses along your shoulder while mumbling the lyrics into your ear.You exhale, your lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. It’s only a matter of time.

Pulling into the Target parking lot, you let out a long, heavy sigh, gripping the wheel as you mentally prepared yourself for Sonya. You loved your girl—no doubt about it. Sonya was one of those ride-or-die friends who would cut up with you on a Saturday night and pray with you on Sunday morning. But she was also the kind of woman who didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. She always had to be up in the mix, tasting the flavor, giving unsolicited advice even when it wasn’t needed. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to share Terry with your girls—because you did. He was your man, and you were proud of him.

But you wanted to make sure this was real. That this was happening. That he was actually going to be home before you started bragging and boasting about him to your family and friends. You couldn’t count how many times you’d gotten excited about a brotha, only for him to turn out to be a disappointment. And every time, you had to do the walk of shame, explaining to everyone that it didn’t work out. You hated the look of disappointment on your mother’s face, the I told you so smirk on your sister’s lips, and God forbid Sonya’s infamous, “I knew that nigga wasn’t shit.” speeches. And then there was Deja, who always chimed in with, “Girl, want me to get my cousin to kill him?”

You loved your girls, but the last two years had been a sacred kind of peace. You had cultivated this private, intense, deeply intimate relationship with Terry while he was behind bars, and there was something pure about keeping it just between the two of you. You knew that sometimes, outside influence could ruin a good thing, and you weren’t ready to share your world just yet. But if things aligned perfectly—if the odds were in your favor, if the judge signed off, and if God was looking out for you—then they would meet him the night of your birthday outing. You just hoped everything would fall into place. You hopped out of the car, grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 from the passenger seat and slinging it over your arm. Just as you shut the door, you spotted Sonya standing near the entrance, her arms crossed, her stance already radiating irritation. You took a deep inhale, bracing yourself, then walked over, greeting her with a quick hug.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” You asked, noticing her sour expression.

“Chile, my damn hairstylist just sent me that infamous ‘Hey boo’ text, and I just know it’s about to be some bullshit.” Sonya sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“That’s why I told you to stop going to her, Sonya. She’s unprofessional as hell and always canceling on you at the last minute.” You snorted and shook your head. 

“I know, I know,” She whined dramatically, throwing her hands up. “But girl, she know how to lay my damn wigs. She makes that lace look like scalp! I do not wanna go to nobody else!”

You laughed, grabbing a cart and rolling into the store with her. You weren’t even five steps inside before you gave her a knowing look and smirked. “I don’t even know why you waste your time getting them wigs laid, knowing Omar gon’ pull that shit right off your head and have your lace looking crazy by the end of the night.”

“You ain’t lying, girl. You really ain’t lying.” Sonya stuck her tongue out at you before giggling, clearly thinking about how wild her and her man got. 

You shook your head, laughing as you made your way toward the laundry aisle, grabbing detergent, fabric softener, and some cleaning products. You wanted the house to be

perfect for Terry’s homecoming—fresh sheets, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, everything spotless for his arrival.

As you reached for a bottle of Febreze, Sonya nudged you. “So… you excited for your birthday?”

“Yeah… I really am.” You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. Truth be told you were more excited for Terry’s arrival than your own birthday. For as long as you could remember you weren’t the most excited to celebrate your birthday. To you, it was just another day and another reminder that you were leaving your glorious twenties and getting closer to hitting your dirty thirties. That is until Terry came into your life and shifted your perspective on life itself. He taught you that every birthday should be celebrated and that life is too short to not celebrate the breath in your lungs and waking up everyday. Especially with his circumstances and how his life got snatched from him because he chose to do the right thing and defend his mother’s honor against her abuser, but in the end it wasn’t so honorable and his dreams and young life got cut short with the snap of a finger. So this year you chose to have a better outlook on your birthday, thanks to your baby Terry. 

 You continued to move swiftly through Target, pushing your cart with concentration, mentally checking off everything Terry will need once he’s home. You start with the Dove Men+Care bar soap, grabbing a few packs because you know the fresh, clean scent will suit him. Next is the Old Spice body wash—the deep, rich, masculine fragrance makes you weak in the knees, so you know it’ll be perfect for him. You toss it in the cart, followed by men’s deodorant, mouthwash, and toothpaste—because even though you’ve never stood close enough to breathe him in, you already decided that your man will smell fresh, clean, and irresistible.

You head down the haircare aisle, running your fingers over the different bottles before settling on a moisturizing shampoo and conditioner. You know prison air is dry as hell, and you’re not about to have your man coming home with his hair brittle and neglected. A large jar of Palmer’s whipped cocoa butter goes into the cart next—you love how smooth and rich it feels against your skin, and you can already picture yourself rubbing it into his arms, his shoulders, his hands… making sure he’s soft and well taken care of. Just as you’re reaching for a pack of Dude Wipes, Sonya turns from the next aisle, glancing over at your cart. She tilts her head, her perfectly arched brows raising as she takes in all the men’s products sitting inside.

“Uh-uh. Who’s all this for?” She asks, crossing her arms. Your heart skips a beat.

“Oh!” You force out a laugh, thinking quick. “My sister’s in town with her fiancé, and they’re staying at my mom’s house. She needed some stuff to keep there for him.”

Sonya narrows her eyes for a second, then shrugs. “Oh okay, that makes sense. I was about to say, girl, you got a whole grown man’s starter kit in there.”

You laugh nervously, nodding as you grip the handle of your cart, pushing forward. Just when you think you’re in the clear, your phone buzzes in your purse. You glance down and see the caller ID: Terry’s lawyer. Your stomach instantly tightens. He already called earlier—so why is he calling again?

“Hey, hold on,” You tell Sonya, trying to keep your voice light. “I gotta take this real quick.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you at checkout.” Sonya waves you off, already distracted by something on the next shelf. Stepping out of the aisle, you answer, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answer, voice low. 

“We’ve got a problem,” His lawyer says, his voice urgent.Your body stiffens.

“What? What happened?” You held your breath. 

“There’s been an incident in the prison yard. Terry was involved.” He deeply sighs. Your heart  plummets straight to your ass because you told this nigga—.

“WHAT?!” You shout, loud enough that people around you turn their heads. You clamp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to breathe, to stay calm.

“I’m still gathering details,” His lawyer continues, “ But from what I’m hearing, there was some kind of altercation. If the judge catches wind of this, his release could be revoked… or at the very least, stalled.”

The words ring in your ears, drowning out the noise of the store. Revoked?! Stalled?!Your hands start to tremble on the cart handle, your vision blurring with tears. Just when you thought you were so close to having him home—just when everything was falling into place—here comes some bullshit.

“Please… just tell me he’s okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. You swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter.

“I really don’t know. I’m working on it. I’ll call you back when I know more.” He sighed again, sounding defeated. Then the line goes dead, making you tear up. You stood frozen in the middle of Target, your world spinning, your stomach in knots. And just like that, everything you had been dreaming of, praying for, feels like it’s slipping right through your fingers.

This couldn't be happening right now, not right now....

@captainwithoutmakingitlove

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[sturn777]

FRATBOY!CHRIS SEES YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME.

CHRIS ISN'T USED TO BEING SPEECHLESS. but when you walk into the frat house, dressed to kill, heels clicking against the floor like you own the place—he damn near forgets how to breathe.

you don’t even spare him a glance, too busy fixing your lip gloss in the reflection of your phone camera, looking wholly unimpressed with the sea of drunk, sloppy guys around you.

“who’s that?” chris mutters to matt, eyes locked on you as you make your way to the bar, your dress hugging every curve just right.

“don’t even try,” matt snorts, clapping him on the shoulder. “she’d eat you alive.”

chris ignores him, already making his way over. because if there’s one thing he loves, it’s a challenge.

and you? you look like the type of girl who makes men beg.

he slides in beside you, resting an elbow on the bar, flashing that cocky grin that gets him out of trouble more often than not. “you look lost, sweetheart.”

your gaze flicks to him, bored and unimpressed. “do i?”

his smirk falters for a split second. he’s used to girls eating up the frat boy charm, melting at the attention of chris sturniolo, but you don’t even bat an eye.

“yeah,” he recovers quickly, leaning in just enough to get a whiff of whatever expensive perfume you’re wearing. “but lucky for you, i know my way around.”

“oh, how kind,” you deadpan, giving him a slow once over. “lemme guess. you’re gonna offer me a drink, then spend the whole night trying to get in my pants?”

chris blinks. “i mean—”

“because if that’s the plan, just save us both the trouble and go bother some other girl instead.”

jesus christ.

he should walk away.

he should.

but instead, he just grins, because if anything, you’ve just made him more interested.

“you think i’m that predictable, huh?” he muses, tilting his head as he watches you sip your drink, lips glossy and shining under the dim lights.

you arch a perfect brow. “i think you’re like every other frat boy in here. same cologne, same cocky attitude, same—” your gaze flicks down, lips twitching “silver chain.”

“you’re brutal.”

“i’m honest.”

chris laughs, shaking his head. “alright, darlin'. what does a guy have to do to impress you, then?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think it over. “hmm… not be a frat boy for starters.”

he places a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “ouch.”

you roll your eyes. “seriously? you’re actually still here?”

“yep,” he grins, popping the ‘p.’

you exhale through your nose, setting your drink down with a little too much force. “you just love annoying girls, don’t you?”

“only the ones who look this good when they’re pissed off,” he quips, eyes flickering down to where your dress hugs your waist.

you suck in a sharp breath, and for the first time all night, chris sees something in your expression other than thinly veiled irritation.

intrigue.

“cute,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“so, what’s your deal?” he presses, watching you twirl a manicured finger around the rim of your glass. “you show up looking like a fucking dream just to roll your eyes at everyone?”

you smirk. “maybe.”

“so you like the attention.”

“i like watching guys make fools of themselves over me.”

“huh,” he hums, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. “you get off on that, huh? leading guys on, watching them chase you?”

“why? you jealous?”

“nah,” chris says easily, sipping his beer. “just tryna figure out what makes you tick.”

you lean in, eyes flickering down to his lips. “you sure you can handle the answer?”

his grip tightens around his bottle. fuck.

he’s been with cocky girls before. girls who tease, who like the push and pull, the chase.

but you?

you’re something else.

© STURN777

💬 : idk what this is ! what should i do to celebrate 800 followers ?? lmk what u'd like to see in my inbox ++

🏷 : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel ; @awnmaneez ; @heartss4clauu ; @mattsstarlet ; @madisturni ; @marrykisskilled ; @inspiredangel ; @mattsdemi ; @sturnioloangell ; @ivyandthebeans ; @amelia-sturniolo3 ; @dominicfikeenthusiast ; @sophand4n4 ; @ch6rm ; @et6rnalsun; @sturniolossss ; @jetaimevous ; @chrissweetheart ; @secretlocket ; @courta13 ; @mattsleftball ; @chrislova ; @etherealval ; @throatgoat4u ; @oopsiedaisydeer ; @dearsoulmate3 )

[harmeu]

GUILT

(HSR MEN X READER) (ANGST)

(GN!READER) 

Synopsis: You and Sunday were dating but then you overhear him talking to those who work with him about how you’re just a pawn for his games.

SUNDAY:

Soft footsteps echoed as you walked through the halls of where your beloved boyfriend Sunday lived. Though a feeling of unknown dread crawled onto you as if warning you of something soon happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Your eyes lit up as you heard your boyfriend speaking to those who worked under him and you couldn't help but eavesdrop. The curiosity of how he acted when he wasn’t around you dwelling in your mind.

“It’s simple. I’m using them. They are just one step closer for me to get closer to my goals.” Sunday said with a calm smile, hands gently tracing his desk looking down at the men who were talking to him.

You were confused.

What were they talking about?

“Sir..are you sure? Aren’t they attached?”

“My so-called significant other is definitely attached. Though that benefits me. Much. More. Easier. To manipulate.”

You paled.

He was using you.

Tears bubbled up in your eyes and you held your hand to your mouth to stifle any noises of sadness that were threatening to come out.

Hitching and turning on your shoe you make a dash for it unaware that Sunday caught a glimpse through the slit of the door open with his eyes. His wings twitched in surprise and soon lowered as a disgusting feeling of shame hit him.

It was an oddity for Sunday.

“Oh dear.” He murmured out making his way out to find you.

Synopsis: Aventurine and you dated but when he bets you in a game everything goes downhill.

AVENTURINE:

You catch your boyfriend, the renowned gambler betting as usual. You told him his hobby wasn't good. But as if that would stop him. Eventually you gave up and just let him do what he wanted despite worry filling you each time he pushed a chip forward with his iconic trademark smirk. 

“Babe..” You murmur out unease written all over your face.

“Oh! Hey darling~ this man just won’t seem to give up..even after I basically drained his savings. He’s penniless and now putting bets on things he doesn't even own!” Aventurine chuckled, holding his head amused.

“Maybe you should stop? It's getting intense, no.?” You worriedly whisper out.

“Oh no no no sweetheart. Once you go in. You can’t come out.”

“Huh?” You fluster.

“In gambling! What were you thinking of?” His smirk grew and became more toothly as you spluttered but it soon died down as Aventurine noticed that the man he was gambling with was slowly earning his chips back.

“You pull up a tough fight.” Aventurine spoke and you just knew he was going to pull an impulsive move. 

“Seems my chips have vanished. What a shame. Yet I do not intend to lose. I bet..my darling sweetheart right here.” 

You flinched at his words staring at him with a ‘did you really just say that’’ look making Aventurine smack back into reality.

“Oh..doll wait I didn’t mea-”

He got cut off by you walking off.

Ping! New message!

(AVENTURINE HAS SENT $1,000,000)

Synopsis: Dating Dr. Ratio was nice. Though he puts more time with other matters, neglecting you.

DR RATIO:

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend Veritas in a while because of him either studying, working, teaching others, or doing something other than hanging out with you. You're aware of his passion to join the Genius Society but he can work on that while hanging out with you too right?

You felt left out.

So you decided to make your way to his office excited to see him but also a bit nervous due to the thought of him brushing you away to work on something else.

You knocked.

“Come in.” You hear his British pompous voice making you crack a small smile not hearing it in a while.

“Veritas..” You open the door smiling but it broke as you saw him writing down something in his notebook not bothering to spare a glance at you.

“What is it? I’m quite busy.” He whispered out, still looking engrossed in his work.

“Do..you want to hang out? It’s been a while and I’ve been worried about you overworking yourself. And I miss seeing you.” You blush at your own words staring at him.

Veritas sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his temples.

“Dear how many times must I have to tell you that I am busy?” Annoyance is apparent in his tone making your eyes droop in defeat.

“Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to ask..since it's been such a long time.” Another sigh left Veritas as he ran a hand through his hair and finally made eye contact with you.

“I’m doing work at the moment so please leave me to it.” He picked up his pen again taking a glance at you but his eyes widened as he saw your vulnerable expression of defeat. You nodded softly and shut the door leaving.

Veritas stared at the door, his heart clenching in what he just did. Guilt poured onto it.

“My lord.” He murmured holding his now aching head.

[saeist]

“set me up with rin”

you slammed your hands against the hard wood table. scaring the shit out of shidou and aiku

“jesus fuck!” shidou puts a hand on his chest

“feisty. i like it!” aiku reacts, doing a little finger gun

“you didn’t say the magic word” sae murmurs, completely unbothered by your whole ruckus. you could say he’s used to it at this point

your eyes widened hearing sae’s response. did he finally agree to help you out?

“pretty please” you bat your eyelashes at your best friend, who wasn’t even looking at you by the way. he was currently reading something off what seems to be the latest edition of a sports magazine

sae silently flips the magazine onto the next page before looking at you dead in the eye. you watch his mouth open, ready to hear a certain sentence you’ve been wanting to hear for the past few weeks

“no.” he says flatly before turning his attention back to the magazine

both shidou and aiku break into boisterous laughter. only to be silenced by the librarian

“shh!” the librarian shushes. “one more ruckus from your table and i’m kicking the four of you out!” she whisper-yells, typing away on her computer

you dramatically slide into the seat next to sae, leaning on his shoulder as you reach over to tug his hand

“sae c’mon! you know i like him! so do me a favor as your favorite friend and set me up with your cute little brother” you cried out, tugging on his hand again and again

sae clicks his tongue in annoyance and snatches his hand back

“that’s exactly why i won’t set you up with him” sae grimaces

“and that is?!”

“that you like my little brother” sae says casually. closing the damned magazine and tossing it to shidou who was busy laughing at something on his phone with aiku

“that’s barely a reason” you point out, “would it kill you to help your friend that's desperate for a lover?" you add, dramatically falling limp onto his lap

sae pinches the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. he's heard of this dramatic monologue of yours for a hot minute. ever since he introduced you to his brother, you have not shut up about him since.

it was a mistake on sae's end. he shouldn't have brought you, along with shidou and aiku along for dinner back at his place but it was his mom who pestered him into bringing you guys over for dinner as his mother wanted to meet who sae's friends at college were

"i didn't know y/n-chan was into younger men" shidou quips, poking your nose as you glared daggers at his face

"rin is just like a year younger than sae, let alone me" you retort

"point still stands, y/n-chan" aiku chimes in a sing-song voice, "why do you like him anyway and not the hotter, better and wiser older brother here?" he continues

you dreamily sigh, still on sae's lap as you think about rin

"well first of all, he's a cutie. second, he gives me tsundere vibes but then again, his brother right here is the same kind so i'm pretty sure it runs in the family and... i guess that's about it" you list off the nice things you can say about rin from the top of your head, "no offense sae, i think you're hot and all but just not my type" you poke your tongue at your best friend who only flicks your forehead in retaliation

"that's it?" shidou asks, feeling a little anti climactic about the whole thing. to him it sounded like you had a good reasons on why you were crushing hard on the other itoshi

"oh! and the fact that he's 6'1" you clasp your hands together, "and also that he's trying so hard to be the star player at our local college team and i find it really cute" you gush

"he obviously doesn't have a choice but to try and beat his hotter and better older brother. right, rin?" sae nudges someone beside him.

wait a second, did he just call out to rin?

you quickly scramble off sae's lap, bumping your head against the table in the process

both aiku and shidou let out an "oof, that's gotta hurt" making you more embarrassed than you already are. you glared at them for a brief second before turning your head to the side to see rin looking all confused and to be honest, a little weirded out

"hey rin. what brings you here?" you sweetly wave at the younger itoshi in front of you.

from the corner of your eye, you can see sae rolling his eyes and mumbling "dumbass" under his breath. before you can smack sae, rin speaks up

"my brother" rin nods his head towards sae who only gives him a look of annoyance before motioning him to spit out whatever he came for

"coach says there's been a change of plans regarding the away games and wants to have a team meeting later at the field" rin reports all stoic

sae huffs, "you couldn't just texted me this information or?"

"you blocked my number, remember?" rin rolls his eyes, gripping on his sling bag.

you let out a little gasp and smacked sae on his shoulder upon hearing the news that your best friend has blocked his little brother's number.

"sae! why would you block your brother?!" you nag, wagging your finger in front of sae's face. sae swats your hand away before he attempts to grab rin for pushing him under the bus like that when you're around

"anyway, that's all. also, mom wants you home for dinner. bye guys, bye y/n" rin shyly waves at you before he trudges away out of the library, away from his brother's impending wrath

as rin disappears from sight, suddenly an idea pops into your mind. it's just a simple favor. the next time you see him, you'll ask rin for his help, and maybe, just maybe, it will lead to something more.

"that little runt.. he's gonna get it from me" sae hisses, pulling out his phone to probably unblock rin now that you know that he got his brother blocked. sae looks over at your face in case you were about to yell his ear off but instead he was greeted with a little smile on your face

oh no. he knows that devious smile of yours

"my dearest beloved sae.. put in a good word for me to rin, would ya?" you wink

[drdawnbreaker]

That post you made about Bucky and smoking got me thinking about how it would definitely be Steve walking in and I’m wondering if you could make a small little blurb about it 🫶🏻

Ooo yes, yes!! I have made two versions under the cut teehee. One is more comedic and light-hearted while the other is more smutty, hehe. Enjoy my anonnie <3 (also, if anyone hasn't read the first part, click here eee)

-

Fluff/Light-hearted verison

I feel like poor Stevie would be so shocked he would turn into a frozen soldier in the doorway. Imagine Tony has made a team meeting for god knows what, and he needed all his team members to attend. But yet you and Bucky were missing... again. So Steve, with a sigh, goes off to look for the both of you. But when he got to his bestfriends room, what he was about to be greeted with turned him into an unconfident boy too stunned to speak.

You were spread out on the island bench, your legs over Buckys' shoulders as the smell of weed hits Steve like a truck. Bucky would be drilling into you with so much force that your tits would be bouncing like crazy making Steve's ears turn red in a blink. What was worse, you noticed him almost immediately, and your loud moan turned into a gasp of poor Stevie's name. The noise would go straight to Steve's cock but with his hand quickly over his eyes he stuttered,

"Oh my.. I'm so ...uh..s-sosroyy. Iljustgoohmygod." There was not breath between his words as he turned to the exit. He almost ran into the door frame cause of his hand still tightly on his eyes, but luckily, he got out safely, making haste down the hall until he was back into the meeting room. Everyone was staring at him with a "well?" Expression but with Steve's bright ears, neck, and cheeks, most of them could quickly imagine what he had witnessed. And his small words would only confirm it...

"T...they are busy."

-

Spicy version

So think of the same situation right, but this time when Steve walked in, instead of being a stunned little deer. This bitch is cocky as much. His arms crossed as he leaned against the hall entrance wall, watching as you ride Bucky like your life depends on it while Buck lays spread on his couch. Your eyes met Steve before Bucky could notice. Your foggy brain would scream in joy that your Stevie had found you in such a compromised situation. Neither bucky or you have never denied to each other that Steve was hella attractive and the idea of inviting him had sprung on multiple occasions but they were quickly turned down when you both came to the conclusion of not wanting to scare your best friend away.

Yet, here he is. Standing proud watching you fuck yourself on Bucky thick cock while his grew tighter in his jeans. You suddenly gasped out Steve's name, making Bucky chuckle, knowing his best friend would be the one to come find them. So, without another beat, Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and snapped his hips up into you before grunting. "You joining or what punk?"

His voice was muffled from the way your tits bounced in his face with each thrust, his tongue teasing your sensitive nipples. Your eyes darted between the two of them, almost stunned that Bucky just offered you up on a silver platter to Steve. And Steve was more than happy to provide. Stripping himself of his shirt, you watched as he stalked you like fresh meat. It was only then when it dwelled on you that this wasn't the first time Bucky and Steve had discussed something like this. It was all too calculated and controlled for either of them to be winging it.

Steve took charge, his movements confident and purposeful as he snatched you off your boyfriend's cock before either of you could finish. Both men could see the way your juices that had a mix of Bucky's precum had dripped down your thigh, coating your cunt and beautiful soft skin. Bucky, ever the accommodating partner, allowed himself to be guided away, giving Steve the spotlight for the moment. And be guided away ment spreading his thighs wide with a smug expression as he lazily played with his cock. “Be a good girl for Stevie.”

With you now suddenly bent over the couch, your hands gripped the cushions while Steve stood behind you, his erection pressing against your bare red ass. He ran his hand gently over your smooth skin, tracing the curve of your waist before delivering a sharp slap to your right cheek. "Such a pretty thing you are, sugar," he growled, his voice deep and raw with desire.

You let out a startled moan, your mind spinning over the escalated situation. Your body was trembling from the sharp impact. But the sting only served to heighten your arousal, and you couldn't help but push your back against Steve's hand, craving more of his attention. Steve of course, happily obliged, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, leaving a faint pink mark that would surely bruise later.

“Such a good girl. Such a cute cunt too. And to think Bucky has been keeping you to himself for so long.” Steve almost sounding mockingly. Your boyfriend, who was still sitting at the end of the couch but now facing you two, laughed in response after taking a drag of the almost forgotten blunt on the coffee table.

“Can you blame me? If I could, I'd be inside her pretty pussy every goddamn day.” You couldn't help but mewl over the fact both of the super soldiers were talking about you as if you weren't here. Like you were their sacred prize that they had finally won.

“You like that huh, Sugar? Being stuffed full all the time.” Steve positioned himself at your leaking entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. “Bet you'd love it if we fucked you every hour. Filling you up with so much cum that you'll always be dripping for us.”

You cried as he plunged into you, deep and hard. Your eyes rolled back as you gasped out Steve's name over and over while your fingers dug into the couch, her nails leaving indentations in the fabric.

Steve's hips moved in a steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, along with Bucky's sharp snaps of his metal wrist.

Your moans grew louder, your body writhing with each thrust. Steve's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly. You could feel his balls slapping against your clit with each forward thrust, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. “Steve I…I!”

“There, There Doll. I got you.” You felt your boyfriend's metal fingers graze over your wet cheeks. When did he move? you didn't have time to question before Bucky brought the blunt to your mouth, letting you inhale the intoxicating drug before patting the tip of his cock against your left cheek. “Open up for me, baby girl.”

You obliged excitedly, taking bucky down your soft throat. He planted his feet and knees firmly against the back of the couch as he began to slowly grind his hips against you. If someone were to walk in they'd get a perfect view of the white wolfs ass as he fucked your mouth raw while they'd be gifted a gorgeous sight of the captain america in pure pleasure. His head dipped back while his strong arms flexed with each thrust.

"Yes, sugar, take it all," Steve grunted, his cock head hitting the perfect spot against your gummy walls. "You like having two cocks inside you, don't you?"

You could only nod, her throat burning while you quickly got lost in the haze of pleasure. Steve's cock felt incredible, stretching you in ways Bucky's never could. Cause while bucky was long, Steve held girth. You felt yourself teetering on the brink of orgasm, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Bet you'd enjoy being fucked in both holes.”

“Oh She'd love it. Every time i fuck her tight ass, she always begs for a cock in her cunt too. Like the perfect little slut.” Bucky mocked fisting your hair, tangling it in his fingers as he left himself dip close to his high.

The sensation of being fucked by both men simultaneously was overwhelming enough but with the weed in your system it was like you were suddenly set into overdrive. Your body quivered, your pussy clenching around Steve's cock as you finally surrendered to your climax. Your muffled screams were music to the men's ears, making them both groan in response.

Steve's thrusts became more urgent, his own orgasm building as he felt your pussy pulsating around his thick shaft. Bucky's hips worked their magic, and your body started to convulse with wave after wave of aftershock. “Fuck I'm gonna cum down your pretty throat baby. Be ready to swallow every drop like a good girl.”

Bucky snapped his hips one final time before emptying his seed into your mouth, some of it leaked out around his shaft as he pulled out quickly, watching it drip down your chin and onto the floor but you did manage to swallow most of it. Opening your mouth with a flat tongue afterwards to show him of your good work. “Fuck, good job baby.”

Steve groaned next as his body tensed. He emptied his load deep inside your ruined Cunt. While Bucky, stroking his softening cock, leaned in to kiss you passionately, his hot breath contrasting with the cool air you had intook. As their breathing slowed, the three of you remained entangled, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

“We are totally doing that again.” Your plea made both men chuckle, knowing this was the start of something unexpected but extremely exciting.

-

I didn't know how to end that ahah. So it's a little weird, but oh well, i hope you enjoyed it. And who knows, i make more with these three. And maybe let steve have a go taking his first blunt hehehe

[laylaysdelusions]

Innocent bliss

Pazzi x reader

A/n: here’s that shy reader x pazzi after 4 months cuz I saw them yesterday for the first time and I almost nutted

Summary: pazzi are your roommates and you overhear her something you shouldn’t..

You let out a deep sigh as you rub your temples. The essay you’re working on had consumed your brain as well as your time. Your two roommates Paige and Azzi are gone to practice for the evening and that means you will finally be productive. Your body and mind don’t know how to act normally around the two girls and it drives you insane. Your fingers type another few words before you decide you need a snack break.

You walk to the kitchen seeking a bowl of cereal. As you stand in front of the cabinets you hear the door knob twist open. The sound of Azzi whispering and Paige giggling moves closer. “Hey we’ll just be in our room if you need us” you nod and they don’t even look you in the eyes, which stings a little. “Bye-“ you say right before they shut the door. You go to your bedroom with your head down. You really do have a problem.

You assume that it’s just couple behavior not that you would know since you’ve never been in a relationship before. You knew you hated men from an early age and you grew up in too much of a small town to find a decent girls to date. Now, you’re just too busy to be out looking. Your shy demeanor doesn’t help either.

Since you met Paige and Azzi things have been changing for you. It started with just Paige. Not only was her physical appearance alluring, her attitude and talent added much to her. It wasn’t long after you developed feelings for Paige that you noticed Azzi in the same light. The two of them were deadly and they are very much aware. The world doesn’t know they are dating but there is speculation amongst fans. You know more than what’s good for you.

It’s only been a short few months since you’ve been rooming with the pair and it’s gotten progressively harder to not let a hint of your affection slip. In the mornings when they’re up making their protein shakes in the kitchen you secretly peek at how Paige’s muscles move and how Azzi’s hands twitch. Everything they do comes so naturally sexy, it’s an impossible situation for you. You’re not a perv but I mean you are a lesbian seeing two of the hottest women on the planet in sports bras and sweatpants all the time.

When you sit on your bed you sink into the sheets wanting to cry. This crush is a road block, there is no chance. As soon as you feel a cold tear run your cheek you hear a sound from the other side of the wall. It sounds like a whine? ‘I hope they’re not in pain !” You immediately think. You don’t have much time to worry about it before you hear what sounds to be a breathy moan.

It suddenly clicks into your head what your roommates must be doing, covering your body in a flustered blush. You cover your face in embarrassment. Something in you,however, doesn’t want them to stop anytime soon. You start to hear sheets rustling and a wet sound on top of the already present whimpering. If it’s even possible your body gets warmer.

You start to wonder, wonder about how it feels, what their facial expressions look like and everything else dirty you could think of in your shy mind. What you consider dirty is probably light compared to others but that’s just how you are, innocent. “Paige please” you hear azzi’s voice whine. Your eyes grow bigger than sand dollars and you pull your blanket over your face. Don’t they know that the walls are this thin?

Although you masterbate from time to time you usually don’t orgasm because of how low your stamina is and you also are quite the overthinking when it comes to making yourself feel good. The current pool of heated wetness in your panties right now is quite difficult to ignore. Your core aches for attention. ‘This is dirty’ you think, to my roommates? really?

You grab the pillow lying next to your head, pulling it underneath you. You gently move your panties to the side and mount the pillow. You hold in a soft sound that’s threatening to escape your lips. The moans and whimpers from the one and only Azzi Fudd in the next room grow more intense. Paige must’ve hit a good spot with her fingers.

“You’re doing great princess” you hear Paige’s voice echo. You can’t help but imagine you’re just right on the other side watching them. You throw your pussy harder into the pillow as you listen to Paige’s praises accompanied by Azzi’s cries. Azzi gets even breathier and Paige speaks softly. “Just a little bit longer ok sweet girl?”. “Oh gosh..” you mutter when you hear the pet name. That’s one of your dream pet names.

Your hips grind against the surface making you let a whimpered plea. You know they can’t hear you, they are too focused on coming at the moment. Azzi starts hiccuping on her moans and that’s when you assume she’s close. “Good girl, you wanna come for me?” The blonde says in a cocky tone. “Mhm! Yeah” Azzi answers, clearly about to burst. “Go ahead, cum for me” when Paige says that Azzi lets out a yelp.

Your hips continue rutting against the firm pillow while you almost sob in desperation. You hear a few whispers but you don’t care to make them out. Tears run down your face as you hear them moving spots. You hear a clapping noise now and you’re not sure what it is. Azzi sounds overwhelmed with desire for more of her girlfriend.

Paige chuckles and Azzi giggles while out of breath but they don’t stop. You wonder what they thought was funny but quickly move on. You come to the conclusion it must be a strap that they’re using. You daydream about what it looks like while soaking the area underneath you. The unusual coil in your stomach builds up.

You’re close and you’re unaware of how loud you’re being even with the hand over your mouth. You push just a little bit more and you gasping for air and collapsing against your sheets. You lay there still hearing them and extremely exhausted. Your eyes close and you fall into a deep sleep.

The sun bleeds into your room and you are rudely awakened by it. You quickly realize you desperately need a shower so you head to the bathroom. As you head down the hallway with your head hanging low in shame you bump into a body. It’s Azzi, standing tall as usual. “Sorry-“ you say about to proceed but she grabs your arm.

“Me and Paige have some questions for you” she says, her voice low laced with something different than normal. ‘Think of something!’ Your brain yells at you but you don’t listen to it. “Y-yeah what’s the matter?” Azzi leads you to the couch where Paige is already sitting, well, manspreading. You have to force yourself to hold a shaky breath in.

“So, how was your night last night?” Paige smirks and that’s when you realize what you got yourself into. Your skin turns hot and you drop your head. Azzi grabs your chin, pulling your eyes to meet hers. “We just asking you about your night sweetheart” “it was good..can I go shower now?” You say softly, scared of being any louder. “One more question” Paige stands up behind you and leans down to your ear. “How did you enjoy the show?” The blonde asks making a shiver go down your spine.

[cherienymphe]

Birds of Prey

Carmine Falcone x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, age gap (reader is around Sofia and Alberto's age), power imbalance, implied stalking, mentions of organized crime

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @whimsicalrogers

summary: Carmine Falcone doesn't believe there's anything in Gotham he can't have—and you like to pretend that doesn't include you.

⭑

“The boss wants to see you.”

A familiar deep voice reached your ears, coming face to face with one of the many bouncers at the club when you looked over your shoulder. Your jaw took a break as you stopped chewing, your minty breath reaching your nose as you exhaled and frowned. It wasn’t too long ago that you’d just talked to Oz, and similar words left your mouth, confusion filling you on what he could possibly need to talk about.

“Not Oz,” was all Kenzie said, and you pressed your lips together.

Oh.

“...oh.”

You hadn’t even realized that the dark haired man—your actual boss—was here tonight, and you swallowed, inadvertently swallowing your gum. You ignored the way your heart stuttered, and you folded the tips you’d previously been counting before sliding them into your boot. The way Kenzie lingered told you that he was meant to be escorting you, and with a small sigh, you forced yourself to your feet. 

You clearly wouldn’t have the time you wanted to yourself to mentally prepare to talk to Carmine Falcone tonight. 

It wasn’t that you disliked the man—no more than you disliked any of the other corrupted men in this city. In fact, you’d say that he was pretty okay in your eyes, but he was just so intimidating. You supposed it was natural, after all. He was rich and powerful and practically owned the city, and being in close proximity to someone like that—without the flashing lights and loud unintelligible music—made you all too aware of not only just your shortcomings but also the huge imbalance that filled the room whenever it was just the two of you.

Kenzie made no move to step out of the elevator with you when it opened, and the heels of your shoes clicked against the floor when you stepped into the loft. The elevator doors closing sounded so loud to your ears for some reason, and aside from the low hum of music playing in the space, the only sound that could be heard was your heels. 

At least until you heard the snap of billiard balls hitting each other.

Your heart jumped at the confirmation that he was in here, and despite your reservations, you picked up the pace, determined to get this over with. You’d been in his loft a handful of times, most especially when you first started working at the 44 Below and he wanted to know how well you were adjusting. It was always coincidentally when you’d just finished a shift, boots full of the money you’d gotten from eager customers with their hands out for Drops. You suspected that Mr. Falcone hadn’t quite trusted you just yet then, recalling the way he sometimes counted your loot thrice.

Now, however, only a few years later, things were different…

“How were things tonight?”

It wasn’t an unusual way to be greeted, Mr. Falcone concerned with the money and business before all else. He hadn’t even looked up from his game as he spoke to you, those dark shades of his no doubt hiding a very intense gaze.

“Things were good,” you told him, bending down to reach into your left boot. “I only really had trouble from maybe two guys, but-.”

“Who?”

The sudden question threw you off, and you looked up from your knelt position to see that he was standing straight now, game forgotten as he held the pool stick in hand. Your eyes were briefly distracted by the glint of the gold ring on his pinky, and you forced yourself to remember that he wanted a response.

“I didn’t… They weren’t regulars,” you said, standing. “I think they came with someone else, and we just had a brief back and forth about the price.”

You were quick in handing the money to him, and you watched him count it. He didn’t really make a habit of asking you about your shifts anymore, so you didn’t think this was all he wanted. In fact, you were sure of that, and that made you nervous. Carmine Falcone wasn’t the kind of guy to concern himself with the likes of you just because. If it wasn’t about business then it was about pleasure, and you had never talked to the man about anything that wasn’t business.

The silence between you stretched and despite the fact that there were so many things you needed to do tonight before it got too late, you didn’t dare rush him. Not only was the man the reason you even had a job, but he just wasn’t the kind of man you rushed. You waited on him, and you watched him nod as he took his time in counting the last few bills from what you’d been able to sell.

“Not bad,” he praised in that low voice of his, and you sent him a small tight lipped smile.

You wondered if he could see how nervous you were and decided to put you out of your misery.

“I talked to Oz earlier,” he began, getting straight into it, pocketing the money. “He said that he gave you some extra money for rent.”

Of all the things that this could be about, that was at the very bottom of the list for you and truthfully…it shouldn’t have been. You shakily exhaled, feeling his eyes on you through those shades, and you briefly looked away. You didn’t even know how you became a topic of conversation between them, and some part of you wanted to curse Oz for putting you into this position. 

You knew exactly why Mr. Falcone was bringing this up with you.

“It’s not what you think,” you hurried to say, shrugging and waving your hand. “I asked him about any extra shifts and because there aren’t any, he offered me cash instead.”

The tall man slowly started to make his way around the pool table, and you were quick to get your next words out.

“It’s just a loan. I’m paying him back…”

“With what money?”

You snapped your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t say I was paying him back tomorrow,” you eventually mumbled.

“I think Oz would prefer it if you paid him back never.”

Your eyes found the floor at that, hating the truth in his words and especially hating the predicament you found yourself in. You wondered if the other man knew what he was doing when he told Mr. Falcone about what he’d done, and while you liked to think that Oz was just some blundering idiot, sometimes he seemed a lot more calculated than people gave him credit for.

“Oz knows that it’s not like that, and…besides, if he did then I would just give the money back.”

The dark-haired man before you didn’t respond to that at first. Instead, all that met you was a small change in expression, and you watched the way the corner of his mouth lifted. It was the closest thing to a smile you’d ever see on his face when he wasn’t talking to his daughter. He turned away from you, and you kept your eyes on him as he made his way to his bar.

“...and then how would you pay your rent?” he wondered. “This is still the same landlord, I presume.”

He presumed correctly, and you were reminded of a similar conversation months ago. The only sound that could be heard was alcohol flowing from one glass container to another. When he approached you with a clear glass of brown liquor, you hesitantly took it, feeling pressured to do so even if only to be polite. You could feel him eyeing you, and you slowly took a small sip.

“Seems to me like Oz made you an offer you couldn’t refuse…”

“Mr. Falcone-.”

“...but you refused me just fine.”

“It’s…different,” was your only reply, and you looked up at him as he took a sip of his own drink.

“How so?” he asked in that way that reminded you a lot like a dad would ask their child.

“You’re my boss,” you said—a little loudly—and you couldn’t stop your incredulous chuckle.

“So is Oz.”

You rolled your eyes at that, briefly forgetting who you were talking to.

“Sure, yeah, but you’re my actual boss,” you elaborated. “Nothing against Oz, at all, but everyone knows he doesn’t really run anything. Nothing other than what you let him think he’s in charge of.”

He only took another sip, his gaze never leaving you, and you got the feeling that he wanted to see how far you’d go to explain why you’d take money from Oz and not from him.

“Oz can’t do anything without your okay, and that includes anything pertaining to my job. He’s not actually in charge of me,” you quietly finished. “You are, and…I can’t take money from you.”

You got the feeling that you were offending him—the same feeling you got months ago when your landlord decided to hike up the rent for no reason for the umpteenth time—and you didn’t know how to feel about that. Surely he could understand why taking money from Oz was wholly different from taking money from him. Needing something to distract yourself with, you took another sip, appreciating the slight burn in your throat.

“Different or not, I don’t want you taking any more money from Oz.”

Despite the fact that you had no plans of doing that, the finality in his tone made you bristle. You didn’t appreciate how he was choosing to prove you right, knowing that if you didn’t do as he said and he found out, your job could come into question. You could only nod, hating that this place was the safest place in Gotham to make the kind of money you were making with your credentials.

The older man moved closer to you, his free hand lifting to touch your chin, and you swallowed when he tilted your head up ever so slightly. His fingers on your skin made you shudder, and you wished that you were the naive girl you used to be. You wished that you didn’t know why being so close to him gave you goosebumps. You wished that you didn’t know why he was offended you wouldn't take his help. You wished that you didn’t know what this whole thing with Oz was really about.

“Is that understood?”

He wanted a verbal answer, and you softly exhaled.

“Yes, Mr. Falcone.”

“Look, doll,” Oz’s accent was thick as he followed you around the room. “I know you still got that good for nothing landlord, and you ain’t making any more now than you were a month ago.”

The club had long shut down for the night, but when you were one of the girls who had to stick around and clean up, it could take ages. You grabbed a half empty glass full of something that you were too scared to try and identify as the man beside you limped along with your even strides. There were no flashing lights and no loud music, so you had no choice but to engage in conversation with the man who’d done you a huge favor.

“I already told you, it was a loan,” you said to him, setting a tray of dirty glasses aside. “How am I supposed to ever pay you back if you keep bailing me out of trouble?”

You faced him now as you wondered this, and by the brief look that passed over Oz’s features, you knew that Mr. Falcone was correct in his assessment of the heavyset man. You’d known it then, and you swallowed down a sigh, feeling like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You were going to pay Oz back, that was the truth. Not just because you hated owing anyone anything and you wanted to, but also because you needed to. 

Just like your boss, Oz wanted something from you too, and he definitely felt more owed to it if he could hold a few measly hundred dollars over your head.

The gold in his mouth winked at you as he sent you what was meant to be a comforting grin. It only struck you as lecherous, and Oz shrugged.

“That’s not something we gotta worry about, right now. You can’t exactly show up for work if you’re out on the street, now can ya?”

You fixed Oz with an even stare, and the way his features dropped told you that he realized he wasn’t getting through to you. Even if you wanted to give into your desperation and take any more of his money, you couldn’t. Mr. Falcone had left no room for confusion, and you were more afraid of him than you ever would be of Oz. Oz just wasn’t a serious guy at all—which made you feel even shittier about accepting his money—and everything about your boss was very serious.

The way he moved, the way he talked, and the way he simply looked at people. He navigated his relationships with people with an asuredness that he couldn’t be touched, and he was so confident in it because it was true. The man was practically untouchable, and it was why he was a man you never wanted to get on the bad side of.

Even over something as simple as borrowing money from Oswald Cobb.

“I’m sorry, Oz,” you shrugged. “It’s really sweet of you—so sweet—but I just can’t.”

You brushed past him before he had a chance to respond, noticing the way his expression had already begun to sour. Oz walked around like he had something to prove, and it being so obvious only made it worse. You didn’t want to hear what he could’ve possibly come up with about why you wouldn’t take his money. You didn’t even know what you would say if he continued to press you about it. After all, it’s not like you could tell him the truth.

You didn’t see the conversation going over well if you told him that Mr. Falcone didn’t want you accepting any more money from him because your boss felt slighted that you wouldn’t allow him to metaphorically pee on you. It was such a crass and vulgar way to put it, but it was the truth. Oz you could take money from and turn down any further advances without the fear of losing your job.

Mr. Falcone…not so much.

Taking his money would cross a line you couldn’t uncross. There would be no paying him back and certainly no giving it back. Taking your boss’ money would come with strings you just wouldn’t be able to cut, and it was already bad enough that you were on his radar, the powerful man no doubt keenly aware of you and everyone you cared about.

It was late when you finally walked out of The Iceberg Lounge, your thin coat tight around you as you stepped into the biting air. There was hardly a soul on the street, let alone a taxi, and as the seconds ticked on, it was starting to hit you that you were going to have to walk. The dangers of Gotham at night weren’t even your biggest concern—it was the cold.

Just when you convinced yourself that the walk would warm you up, a nice sleek car pulled up beside you. It was black and nothing like you’d ever ridden in before. It wasn’t a limo, that much you could tell, and as it slowed to a stop in front of you, your mind distractedly settled on a Lincoln. You were just thinking that it seemed like the kind of car someone would be driven around in when the back window was rolled down.

A light drizzle started as you came face to face with Mr. Falcone.

Your lips parted in surprise before you pressed them together again, jaw clenching as you realized the predicament you found yourself in. If turning down Mr. Falcone’s money offended him, then you had no doubt that turning down a ride would be an even worse offense. You knew the path this conversation was going to take before he even opened his mouth, and you resigned yourself to it.

“Y/N.”

His deep voice greeted you over the light rain, and you responded with a soft smile. 

“Mr. Falcone. I didn’t even know you were up there tonight,” you said, keeping your voice light. “I was just about to head home.”

Even in the privacy of his car, he still had those shades on, and for some reason the sight of them on his face struck you as more eerie now than normal. Maybe it was because with hardly any light around, you couldn’t even see the faint shadow of his eyes. You were just staring into darkness, and the sight almost made you miss his next words.

“Why don’t you get in. I’ll drop you off,” his words came out like a suggestion, but you knew they were anything but.

With only a second of hesitation, you gave him a soft ‘okay’ before rounding the car.

The inside smelled like him—manly and clean with a hint of wood. You apologized for wetting his seats as you strapped yourself in, but he held his hand up before you could finish, signaling to you that it was nothing. You felt awkward sitting in his backseat with him, the heater warming you up more than your coat ever could. As if he could read your mind, the head of the Falcone family spoke.

“Were you going to walk home in that?”

It almost took you too long to realize that he was talking about your coat, and you fingered the thin material, a sheepish smile on your face.

“It wouldn’t have been that far of a walk,” you shrugged.

It was a lie, and you both knew it.

Even when you eventually looked away, you could still feel his eyes on you, and you didn’t expect his next words.

“Why are you so afraid of me?”

A beat of silence.

“I’m not.”

Another lie.

“I don’t like liars, you know that,” he called you out.

Swallowing, you looked out of the window, but that didn’t last long, hating the sight of his reflection behind you. The silence between you stretched, and the longer it went on, the more obvious it became that he wanted an actual honest answer to his question. Your shoulders heaved with a deep breath, and your gaze fell to your lap.

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“I feel like you want something from me that I’m not exactly willing to give,” you slowly told him.

You were all too aware that there was a third person privy to this conversation, but you wondered how much the driver was paid by the Falcones to basically see and hear nothing because Mr. Falcone acted like he wasn’t even there, so you forced yourself to do the same. All that met your words was silence, and when you glanced at him, the other man wasn’t looking at you but instead staring straight ahead.

You started to think you’d said the wrong thing by acknowledging the elephant in the room whenever you were with him.

“...and what exactly is it that you think Oz wants from you?”

You leaned back in your seat at that, pressing your lips together and resisting the urge to fire back at him that you weren’t an idiot. Oz wasn’t exactly subtle, but you could handle Oz. You didn’t want to give Mr. Falcone the satisfaction of knowing that his power and connections and place in Gotham scared you more than any measly feelings.

So he wanted to fuck you. Big deal.

That wasn’t exactly new or daunting or shocking. Working at the 44 Below, you encountered plenty of men who did, but none as powerful as him. That was the part that scared you, being wanted by a man like Carmine Falcone. Oz was nothing, just another man on the street with a gun and some money who thought he was bigger than what he was. Mr. Falcone on the other hand…

You’d heard things—whispers of women around him disappearing and dying. He was the head of an organized crime family, so you couldn’t say you’d be surprised if he was even worse than you imagined. It was why you couldn’t blur this line between you, no matter how much he was trying to. He was your boss, you worked at his club, and that was all it could be. You were suddenly extremely aware of the fact that you were sitting in his car as he gave you a ride home out of the rain, and you looked out of the window.

You would have to find a better job and soon.

When his driver slowed to a stop outside of your apartment—the source of your current dilemma—you were quick to reach for the door handle…and Mr. Falcone was quick to reach for you. He’d only ever touched you a handful of times, and like always, his hand was gentle on your arm, but it felt so heavy to you through the thin material of your coat. You nervously watched him reach inside of it with his other hand, and your heart dropped at the wad of cash he pulled out.

You were shaking your head before he even spoke.

“Give this to Oz,” he told you, no room for argument in his tone. “I know everything that goes on in my club.”

You could feel his eyes on your face as he said that, and your earlier conversation with 

Oz came to mind.

“...and I don’t want you owing him anything.”

You thought to yourself that you shared the same sentiment, but owing Oz was better than owing a man like Carmine Falcone You didn’t say that though, accepting that you were going to be offending him for a third time tonight, and you didn’t want to make it worse. Ignoring his words and the money, you opened the door and was immediately greeted by drops of rain.

“I can handle Oz.”

That was all you said to him before closing the door behind you, hurrying around the car and into your apartment building, only relaxing when you were bathed in darkness.

You resisted the urge to fiddle with your fingers as you met his even stare with one of your own. You knew this conversation wasn’t going to be the lightest once you finally told him, but no amount of mental preparation was enough, it seemed. Mr. Falcone always had a stern look on his face, even when he wasn’t seemingly upset, but it was clear in this moment that he wasn’t happy with the turn of events.

At all.

“This clearly isn’t a ‘two weeks notice’ kind of establishment, but…it seemed like the proper thing to do,” you finally added. “The restaurant doesn’t pay what I make here, that’s for sure, but it’s decent money.”

There was a lot left unsaid, and you certainly weren’t going to voice it, but that apparently didn’t matter.

“Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

He had no problems saying what you wouldn’t, and you actually winced at his words, looking away as he took a sip of his drink. His loft was quiet, and you finally sighed—softly—as you briefly closed your eyes.

“I never meant to offend you. I swear,” you said, looking at him again. “I’m just…not that kind of girl, and you seem very…determined to make a liar out of me.”

His mustache twitched, a crooked smile on his lips, and you were right to be nervous as you watched him stand. You started to stand too when he held a hand out, and despite your confusion, you remained seated. Your positions weren’t lost on you as he moved closer to you, towering over you and looking down his nose at you where you sat. He still had his drink in hand, and when he lifted his free hand, you expected the feel of his fingers on your chin.

He only pointed at you instead.

“You will need my help.”

He said it with so much conviction that part of you couldn’t help but to believe his words, and you blinked.

“You will,” he reiterated, and you oddly felt like a child being scolded by a parent in this moment. “You will need money and assistance because this city doesn’t reward the good and doesn’t believe in being fair.”

You struggled to swallow at that, knowing without a doubt that if nothing else he said was true, that definitely was.

“...and what will you do? Run to Oz with your tail between your legs?”

You shuddered at the thought, and you knew he noticed by his slight chuckle.

“Sacrifice your dignity to become the kind of woman you claim you’re not but for strangers instead? Hmm?”

Your throat felt tight as every word from him felt like a slap.

“Would it really be worth it just to pat yourself on the back for not taking my help?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that, blinking back tears as he shook his finger at you before dropping his arm entirely. He took another swig of his drink, and you watched him turn away from you with a shake of his head.

“You remind me a lot of my son, you know that?”

You had only crossed paths with the young man in question a handful of times, and you weren't impressed, so this comparison only made you feel worse.

“Just like Alberto,” Mr. Falcone dragged out. “So hard headed and stubborn and always needs to do things the hard way just to prove a point.”

You finally stood on shaky legs, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. You hated to admit that his words were already getting to you, a lot of truth in them that you refused to face. 

“Thank you, Mr. Falcone for the opportunity you gave me here,” was all you said. “I know it may not seem like it, but I really am grateful.”

When he didn’t respond, you made your way to the elevator, your heels echoing off the walls. You had just stepped inside when he spoke again, face to face with him just as you pushed the button to go back down to the ground floor.

“The devil you know is always better.”

That simple statement made your heart drop, and you didn’t respond, refusing to give him the satisfaction. When the doors shut though, your face crumbled, and the longer they stewed in your mind, the less his words felt like speculation and more like a curse. He wasn’t wrong, and you hated it.

This city swallowed people like you up. Gotham cackled and spat in the face of anyone who tried to do things the ‘right’ way here, and you wondered if you were really about to be next on its long list of victims all because you didn’t want to get tangled up with the likes of Carmine Falcone. Maybe he was right. Maybe you would end up right in his grasp where he wanted you…

…but you owed it to yourself to try.

It took a second restaurant gig just to keep your head above the water. The corruption in Gotham didn’t just extend to the cops and drug lords, but even all the way down to the lowly landlords too. You knew the day was coming when your rent would be hiked up again with no explanation nor rhyme or reason as to why, but with your two jobs, it wasn't anything you couldn’t handle. Sure, you didn’t ever have any money left over for things like food and other necessities most times, but you had a place to lay your head at night.

…and most of all, you didn’t have to stare into the eyes of Carmine Falcone and pretend like you didn’t know he was just waiting for you to offer him something so many other women probably had.

You had no doubt that he’d played this game before. After all, the man wasn’t just rich and powerful, but handsome too, and the kind of women who worked at the 44 Below—hell even just the Iceberg Lounge—tended to have no qualms about entering an arrangement with a powerful good looking man to keep a nice sum of money in their pockets. You wondered if that was part of the hang up with you—that you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You supposed he was right when he called you stubborn, although you could’ve gone without the comparisons to Alberto. Everything he prophesied came true, and it was only some months later when you found yourself standing outside on a corner with some girls you were familiar with.

“The first one is always a little nerve wracking,” she told you, a comforting smile on her glossy lips.

“Speak for yourself,” another one interjected. “They all make my skin crawl.”

They chuckled together, and you nervously joined in.

You were no virgin—far from it—but you’d never offered the pleasure of your company for money before. You figured it couldn’t be all that different from any other one night stand. It was sex, and that pretty much worked the same no matter who it was with, only tonight you'd be getting paid for it. You weren’t in danger of being put out on the street—yet—but you were at a point where you were working just to pay bills…and it had started to get to you.

You needed some extra money in your pocket.

A low feminine whistle pulled you from your thoughts, and you followed your friend’s gaze.

“This is your lucky first pick, I can tell. Look at that car,” she praised pointing at the dark vehicle.

You didn’t join in on their excitement when you finally studied said car—a familiar car. Your heart sank to your stomach as a congratulatory pat was given to your arm, and despite how much you told yourself it was only a coincidence—he wasn’t the only rich man to be driven around in a car like that—something deep in your gut told you otherwise. You blinked as it slowed down, and your friends’ voices had faded some as they backed away to give you privacy.

You weren’t surprised when the back window rolled down.

Just sick to your stomach.

“Mr. Falcone,” you eventually greeted, never one to be rude to him despite everything.

He didn’t respond, just staring at you through those dark sunglasses, face as taut as ever.

“I can get one of the other-.”

“Get in.”

You bristled at the interruption, halfway turning to gesture to one of the other few women on the corner.

“I’m serious. Any of them would be happy to-.”

“I don’t like repeating myself, you know that.”

You swallowed the rest of what you were going to say, and your arm fell. You stared at him, and he stared at you, and the longer the seconds dragged on, the more you wanted to just…cry. Did he stake out notorious corners regularly? Had he just been waiting for the night you showed up on one of them? If you dared to walk away right now, you wondered what he would do. Follow you? Drag you into the car?

You’d never seen Mr. Falcone so much as raise his voice, but to be a successful head of an organized crime family, you knew it required a level of brutality you’d just never been privy to. You thought about those rumors and whispers you heard of the women around him, and you didn’t know which option was worse, right now—getting in that car or walking away from it.

As you distractedly watched one of your friends walk off with some John, you realized that your former boss’ presence was going to affect any attempts to service any man—any other man—tonight, and you angrily huffed.

No more words were exchanged as you stomped around the vehicle, the silence loud from the moment you slid into the backseat. The wheels were turning before you even clicked your seatbelt in place, and you refused to look at the dark-haired man next to you. Your gaze remained on the window, even when it became apparent you weren’t heading towards the Shoreline Lofts.

It didn’t take you long after that to realize just where you were heading, and despite how much your nerves spiked, you bit your tongue.

The Falcone family mansion was just as stunning and impressive as you’d heard it to be. You’d never had the pleasure of laying eyes on it, and for a brief moment, you’d forgotten the corner your former boss had backed you into. Your lips were parted at the sight of it, slow to get out and almost stumbling over your feet as you never took your eyes off of it. You think you would’ve been content to stand outside and stare at it all night.

Your companion for the night, on the other hand, had other ideas…

You did end up stumbling when he took your arm, and your heart was fast beneath your chest as he walked you to the imposing building. An added layer of fear and apprehension surrounded you, tonight unlike all the other times you were alone with the older man. You knew that some way or another he was going to get what he’d been after, and you didn’t quite know how consensual your part in all of this was going to be.

After all, you didn’t want to sleep with him, not even for money.

…but it was clear more than ever that Carmine Falcone wouldn't rest until he was taking care of you, and you were taking care of him.

Just like he wanted.

“Tell me something…”

His deep voice broke the silence the moment he let you go, and you felt wholly uncomfortable in the bedroom that was the size of your entire apartment. You hadn’t even thought to admire the impressive artwork on the walls and grand staircase as you made your way up it, only concerned with how the rest of your life was about to start.

“Is sleeping with some strange man off the streets really more appealing than sleeping with me?”

It seemed like you’d offended Mr. Falcone enough to last a lifetime, and so you decided to be honest as he poured you both drinks.

“You terrify me to my core…so yes.”

You didn’t miss the way he paused at that before continuing on.

“Those men on the streets of Gotham?” you shrugged. “They’re just men. Men who aren’t nearly as big and bad as they think they are, men who I can handle just fine…”

You only stared at the drink being offered to you when he stopped to stand before you.

“...but you run this city, and everyone in it, and I want nothing to do with a man like that.”

When you didn’t take the drink, he only set it off to the side on a nearby side table like your refusal meant nothing to him. He took his time in sipping his own drink, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting towards the bed. Hours ago, you had no idea how this night could possibly end, but in this moment, you were never more sure of anything in your life.

Your eyes followed his movements as he set down his empty glass, the sound of it hitting the wood making you flinch. Like everything he did, he took his time in moving closer to you, always moving like he had all the time in the world. Your chest was heaving ever so slightly, and you lifted your gaze to look at his face just in time to watch him reach up and remove those dark shades. You didn’t recall ever having stared directly into his eyes before, and oddly enough, you found the sunglasses that always covered his eyes to be less intimidating. 

You weren’t surprised to feel his fingers on your chin, and you blinked at the familiar feel.

“How much were you going to charge?”

You answered him, knowing what he was referring to.

“$300 for an hour.”

You didn’t miss the haughty smirk that graced his lips, and you continued before he could speak.

“I needed extra money and they aren’t all Carmine Falcone,” you told him, a bit of an edge in your voice.

It didn’t get by him, and you felt his fingers tighten on your chin.

“...and that was really preferable to accepting my help.”

It came out like a statement, and so you didn’t respond because no response was needed. When his thumb touched your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat. The older man’s intense gaze was on you, and a huge part of you wanted him to put you out of your misery. The two of you had been playing this cat and mouse game for months—really years—and you comforted yourself in thinking that the first step was the hardest part.

“Let me take care of you.”

From anyone else’s lips, that would’ve sounded like begging, but when Carmine said it, it sounded like an order. It sounded like he was telling you to let him do what he wanted because he was going to do it anyway. You voiced your thoughts.

“Do I have a choice?” you wondered into the quiet room.

The only response to your question was the scent of his cologne filling your nose and his lips on yours. You felt overwhelmed by his mere presence, realizing that this was the point of no return. Carmine Falcone had you exactly where he wanted you, and you were the last place you ever wanted to be. You felt almost silly for attempting to put this off for so long, reluctant to admit that you were always going to end up here from the moment he’d decided it.

The only shot you had was leaving Gotham entirely.

The dress you wore tonight was meant to come off and on easily, and it did just that with a few movements of his hand, the fabric falling at your feet. For the first time in years, you were nervous because as many men as you’d slept with, none of them were like him. Your movements were shaky, and you were both relieved and intimidated once you quickly realized that he liked to be in charge.

The sheets on the bed were softer than any you’d ever had the pleasure of laying on, and they only served to remind you what kind of life you were about to be drawn into. Whether or not it was worth it wasn’t even something you’d been able to consider, having little agency in this arrangement. Carmine Falcone took what he wanted and did what he wanted, and you didn’t want to believe that you were naive for thinking you could be the exception.

Your fingers trembled as you undressed him, and he didn't take his eyes off of you the entire time. You were sure some other type of power play was at work here, and you clenched your jaw as you undid his belt. You could feel his hand touching your hair, fingers finding their way to your neck and grazing the skin there.

It seemed that he was content to save the feigned romance of it all for later, wanting to put himself out of his misery for an entirely different reason than you wanted to put yourself out of yours.

You couldn’t stop the surprised gasp that left you when he pushed himself into you, hips connecting with yours before you had a chance to process what happened. Your nails pressed into his skin, and the way he shuddered beneath your touch told you that he liked that. It felt difficult to wrap your head around your predicament—pinned beneath your former boss and lying in his bed.

Forcing yourself to let go of your apprehension and fear, you found that you could enjoy yourself if you just turned your brain off for a moment. As it was, you couldn’t stop thinking about what this meant and what your life would be like tomorrow and what this would mean for your relationship with Carmine. However, his hand on your neck forced you to think of nothing but him inside of you and his hands on you.

Everywhere he touched flared with heat, and you didn’t even know when you’d wrapped your legs around him. The thin layer of sweat that started to appear on your skin did little to cool you, but your mind strayed further and further from that with every thrust of his hips. Your lashes fluttered as you felt yourself stretch around his cock, your other hand reaching down to twist around the sheets.

The feel of his facial hair brushing along your skin made you shudder beneath him, and your gaze landed on the ceiling, eyes absentmindedly roaming along the walls and wallpaper and every detail that made your little apartment look like something out of a horror movie. You told yourself that there was a silver lining in this, but what did the silver lining mean to you when you never wanted this in the first place?

As his lips met yours again, you could see yourself getting used to this despite your initial refusal. However, it didn’t seem smart to get comfortable around the likes of Carmine, but as he curved his hips into yours again, you wondered if that line of thought was easier said than done. Beneath him, it was easy to forget just what he did and the kind of business he ran and the power he held in this city.

However…

When he pulled away, gaze meeting yours, a stab of fear tore through you.

Carmine Falcone always scared you and probably always would, no amount of money and fancy apartments and cars would change that. You unintentionally arched your chest up into his, back curving as his fingers danced along your spine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he liked that he scared you, that your fear made this more fun for him.

His hand trailed over your skin and slid up between your chest before he took your chin in his hand. He kissed you again—a trembling breath leaving your lips—before that same hand slid around your throat. You lost track of how long he plunged his cock into you, and you were already embarrassed to think about someone else cleaning up the mess that was his bed tomorrow.

With a house like this and a family like his, there were no doubts in your mind that someone did their cleaning for them.

Some time throughout the night, you recalled words leaving his lips and yours that sounded a lot like a verbal push and pull. He wanted you to proclaim something you didn’t want to, and your refusal would be met with little nips from his teeth into your skin here and there. He’d call you stubborn, and you would turn your head away. You vaguely recalled asking about the rest of the family, nervously wondering how your presence would be received in the house. 

You didn’t think Carmine had any qualms about being honest about what and who you were. He was the type to do whatever he wanted unapologetically, and you didn’t doubt that it extended to whatever woman he wanted to parade around with whose time and company he was paying for.

“They know you’re mine,” was all he said. “They’ll do as I say.”

That didn’t bring you any comfort.