#or whatever you call something short and without a plot

[nighttimeebony]

So recently, my boyfriend and I have been trying to figure out when Bungou Stray Dogs is taking place. More specifically, we've been trying to pin down a precise month in the anime using details from the anime, as well as character profile sheets for things like ages and birthdays. With all that said, here's all the time-relevant information I was able to gather from season 1 of the anime.

A couple quick things to establish before I really get into it. Firstly, all of the evidence I gathered for this comes from the anime, not the manga; obviously, there are some inconsistencies and continuity errors between the manga and the anime, but because the anime is in color with more detailed backgrounds, that made identifying potentially time-specific details (like weather, plants, and cars) easier.

Secondly, I did not include the episodes from the Azure Messenger arc. The reason for this is because the Azure Messenger arc is meant to take place two years prior to the manga and anime, so any timeline details in those episodes are likely to be either inaccurate or potentially inconsistent with other evidence.

Thirdly, the one thing that made this job so much easier is the fact that almost every character has both an established age at the beginning of the series, as well as a clearly defined birthday, but I'll only really be relying on main characters for plotting out a timeline. This includes everyone from the ADA, and only some of the recurring characters from other organizations like the Port Mafia or the Guild, especially if those characters' ages are in some way related to the characters from the ADA.

Now, with all that out of the way, down the rabbit hole we go.

Episode 1:

Atsushi is 18, and his birthday is May 5th. We also know that Atsushi was kicked out of the orphanage recently. In orphanages and the foster care system, children have to remain under the care of those facilities until they age out of the system at 18. Considering the orphanage's attitude towards Atsushi, I think it's safe to assume that they likely kicked him out as soon as he turned 18 and were no longer legally responsible for him. So, at the very least, Atsushi was kicked out of the orphange at or near the beginning of May, making him freshly 18 as opposed to 18 years and six months, or something like that. He's fresh off of being 17 instead of being closer to 19.

Atsushi mentions that he hasn't eaten in several days, and is considered to be on the brink of starvation. This is clearly a bit of a hyperbole, since the human body can survive for roughly 2 to 3 months without food, and while Atsushi is clearly very small and skinny, he's nowhere near emaciated, so "several days" in this instance probably means about a week, give or take. We also know from Dazai that the tiger has eaten livestock and farm animals, so Atsushi is clearly subsisting off of something, even if it is small and he's not eating anything during the daylight hours.

Another reason why we know Atsushi has only gone a few days without eating instead of weeks or months is because of something called refeeding syndrome. When the body goes too long without food, reintroducing food, even in small doses, is like a massive shock to your system. Once your body has grown accustomed to the fact that you're not going to feed it, it starts subsisting off of itself in order to survive. (In short, your body will literally eat itself if you go too long without eating.) So, once your body gets used to this after a certain amount of time, reintroducing food to your system is like exposing a Victorian child to the internet. Instead of welcoming the sudden influx of calories, your body will actually reject it because it's too overwhelming to properly absorb. In mild cases, the most you'll do is just vomit whatever you've eaten, but in more severe cases, it can actually be fatal. Basically, you have to re-teach your body how to eat and digest food. Based on the way Atsushi is able to scarf down several bowls of chazuke without vomiting, it's likely that Atsushi has only gone a few days without eating instead of weeks or months.

Dazai then goes on to say that the tiger has been causing chaos in Yokohama for two weeks, and that the tiger was spotted in the Tsurumi ward 4 days ago (Yokohama is a city, and Tsurumi is just one of the 18 wards that exist in the city).

In conclusion: It's been almost a month since Atsushi left the orphanage.

Episode 2:

Kunikida pulls out his notebook to say that Dazai received a complaint in August, and another complaint in September, and in the same month it's stated that he's racked up a 6-month long tab with the cafe. Since this scene is meant to establish Dazai's problem-causing behavior and that it happens often, the fact that Kunikida references calls from August and September seem to imply that these are the most recent calls that the Agency has received, and if that assumption is correct then this would mean that the series is taking place in October. Which, I suppose could be true, but it doesn't really align with other evidence we get later. But we'll still tuck it away in our back pocket for later just in case.

Episode 3:

Atsushi accurately guesses that Naomi and Junichirou were students before they started working at the Agency. We know that Junichirou is 18 and his birthday is July 24th. While we don't know Naomi's age, we can assume that she's most likely 16, since she's stated to be younger than Junichirou, still attends school, and only works at the Agency part-time because of that. We don't know how long the siblings have been with the Agency, but since Junichirou is stated to be an assistant rather than a detective like the others, it's likely that they haven't been there for very long. It's not a leap to suggest that Junichirou probably took his entrance exam not long after he graduated high school so he could provide for Naomi.

Since Japanese school terms end in March, and Japanese high schoolers are all 18 by the time they graduate, Junichirou would have graduated when he was 18, but would've turned 19 not long after, since his birthday is in mid-July. So Junichirou is 18, but potentially very close to being 19.

Additionally, Naomi is specifically a part-time employee, and since she's still in school, this is probably not a summer job, or else she'd likely be working full-time. In Japan, summer vacation lasts from around mid-July to the end of August.

Later in the episode, when Junichirou uses his ability, Higuchi mistakes it for snow and comments that snow is odd in "this time of year". According to Weatherspark, Yokohama doesn't tend to get a lot of snow, and when it does, the snow doesn't seem to stick around for very long. The months where Yokohama is most likely to get snow is in January or February, so at the very least, we know the series doesn't take place during winter.

Conclusion: We are most likely in late spring to early summer

Episode 4:

We don't get very many time indicators in episode 4, but when Atsushi is wandering around the city, we can see that the trees lining the sidewalks are lush and green.

Not only are the trees fully green, but they also aren't budding like they would be in early spring, or wilting like they might be in autumn. This remains consistent across multiple episodes. This strengthens my theory that the series takes place some time between late spring to early summer.

Episode 5:

There aren't a lot of time-specific details in this episode either.

Episode 8: (again, we're skipping the Azure Messenger episodes)

Again, not a lot of time-specific details.

We are introduced to Kyouka. Kyouka is 14, and her birthday is November 4th. We know that she's been with the Port Mafia for six months, but that doesn't tell us much about when the series takes place in the present.

Episode 9:

When Kunikida and Atsushi take Kyouka to a restaurant, there is a wisteria tree in full bloom just outside the window.

According to Gardenia.net, Japanese wisterias bloom around late spring to early summer, with various tourist sites specifying that they start blooming in mid-April, with the peak bloom ending in mid-May. After this, the flowers will develop into pods that ripen in late summer, and in autumn, the leaves will turn yellow. Considering that the leaves on top of the flowers are thicker, and the flower stems are shorter, this tree is likely just past peak blooming time, but not yet into pod development. Which makes me think that we're probably somewhere between the middle and end of May.

Later in the episode, when the detectives are trying to find Atsushi, Kunikida provides a photograph that he says was taken by a tourist.

Obviously, Japan can receive tourists at any time, but considering that Atsushi and Kyouka were specifically visiting popular tourist areas and locations when Akutagawa kidnapped them (and when you consider all the other evidence we have so far), it's possible that this is taking place during one of Japan's more popular tourist seasons.

Japan has two prime tourism seasons: spring and autumn. This detail by itself doesn't indicate much, but when you combine it with everything else we have so far, the case for the series taking place in late spring to early summer just gets stronger.

Episode 10:

No significant time-indicative details.

Episode 11:

In the dub, Kenji states that he's only been with the Agency for two months.

When Kenji and Atsushi are walking through the market together, a pedestrian walks up to Kenji and comments that his "vegetable garden isn't draining like it should." In Japan, the spring months of March to June are broadly considered to be the best times for gardening vegetables.

Episode 12:

Almost no timeline details in this episode

Other, more specific details:

Episode 1 takes place during a single night. It opens during sunset, and closes during the night. We'll call that Day One.

Day Two consists of episodes 2 + 3 + 4 + 5. Atsushi's entrance exam takes place early in the morning, he officially meets Junichirou and Naomi at the cafe for lunch, and are then sent out to investigate Higuchi's tip just after. The three of them are gunned down in the alleyway before being taken back to the infirmary, where Atsushi regains consciousness. When Atsushi wakes up in the infirmary, he's wearing different clothes, which could imply that he was kept there overnight, but there's no indication that that's the case. Junichirou is still being treated in the next room over, and when the episode cuts the next scene, it's still the same time of day outside that it was when Atsushi had his encounter with Akutagawa. (first screenshot: episode 3, just before the attack in the alleyway | second screenshot: episode 4, the first shot of the sky after Atsushi wakes up in the infirmary)

I'm guessing that Atsushi's clothes were probably too shredded and bloodied, so Yosano removed them to better assess his supposed injuries and dressed him in scrubs until his own clothes could be mended and cleaned. Then the Port Mafia attacks the Agency some time during the afternoon, and then, while the Agency is still cleaning up, Ranpo is assigned a case with the police that he and Atsushi go to investigate at about late afternoon, and the day finally ends with Ranpo, Dazai, and Atsushi going home. We only know that this has to be the end of the day because the police interrogation and the walk to the station both happen at sunset.

Episodes 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 all take place during the same day, with episodes 2 + 3 encompassing the morning to noon, and episodes 4 + 5 encompassing the afternoon and evening.

Episodes 8 + 9 + 10 all take place during the next day. We'll consider this Day Three. In episode 8, Dazai is kidnapped either early in the morning or late at night (since it's completely dark out when he encounters Kyouka).

And then Junichirou comes back to the office after fully recovering. Because of Yosano's ability, I doubt that Junichirou was in the infirmary any longer than a day. I'm guessing Yosano probably kept him overnight to finish her treatment, and then let him go back to work the next day once he was fully healed. Then the whole incident with the train happens, and Kyouka wakes up in the infirmary in the next episode. Again, we're given no indication that this episode takes place on a different day, since Dazai is still missing, but no one seems particularly concerned about it, whereas, if he'd been missing for at least two days at a time, the other detectives would probably start to get suspicious. Then, Kunikida and Atsushi take Kyouka to lunch and buy her tofu, and Atsushi and Kyouka have their sightseeing adventure before being attacked by Akutagawa. Then the Agency immediately set out to rescue Atsushi.

Episode 11 is where the specifics get tricky, because of the two-parter with Higuchi's plot and Kenji's plot. The first section of the episode is where Fukuzawa agrees to let Kyouka stay to become an official member of the Agency. I believe that section of the episode still takes place on Day Three. I'll explain why in a bit. Then, Kenji's half of the episode probably also takes place on Day Three (because again) Dazai is STILL missing and no one questions it, not even Atsushi. Then the episode ends after Kenji and Atsushi get beef bowls (presumably for lunch since the sun hasn't set), and then after the credits, we get a scene of Dazai reading in his dorm, where he says he'll tell the Agency he escaped the Mafia "tomorrow". This after-credits scene with Dazai also takes place during sunset, marking this as the end of Day Three.

Meanwhile, Higuchi's plotline takes place in the evening/night of Day Three, because we see her going home to her apartment, and later when she wakes up in the middle of the night to go save Akutagawa, the moon is still out.

Episode 12 definitively takes place over the course of two days. The episode starts with Atsushi waking up, surprised and confused as to why Kyouka is in his dorm. This marks the start of Day Four, just one day after meeting Kyouka. The reason why we know this takes place the day after Kyouka's introduction is because this is the first time anyone's had to address where Kyouka would be sleeping. If a few days passed in between episode 10 and 12, then Atsushi wouldn't be confused as to why Kyouka is rooming with him because he would have already known why she was staying with him, meaning that this is Kyouka's first official night in the Agency dorms since Fukuzawa agreed to let her stay to become a member. Then comes Fukuzawa's meeting with Fitzgerald, and Kenji's disappearance. That marks the end of Day Four. In the next scene, we get a text pop-up telling us that the events with Lucy in Anne's room are happening the day after Kenji went missing, which means that the last half of episode 12 officially takes place on Day Five.

So!

In conclusion: the first season of Bungou Stray Dogs takes place over the course of five days, and is set during the end of May.

If this is all correct, and the first season does actually take place in May, then there a couple of potentially interesting details regarding the characters ages.

Atsushi is freshly 18.

Dazai is technically only 21 by the time season 1 comes to a close, since his birthday is in June.

Chuuya is freshly 22, since his birthday is in April.

Kunikida is 22, but would be close to turning 23, since his birthday is in August.

Akutagawa is freshly 20, since his birthday is in March.

Kenji is 14, but would be close to turning 15, since (like Kunikida) his birthday is also in August.

Junichirou is 18, but would be close to turning 19, since his birthday is in July.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ i am afraid i will love you forever.

ambessa x sugar baby!reader x sevika. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa & sevika are married for business reasons but cannot stand each other. however, they love you—you who are unaware that they are together.

cw: age difference, older woman/young woman, polyam but is it really bc they just love you and not each other, sugar baby!reader, business moguls!ambessa & sevika, power dynamics, power imbalance (you're a sugar baby, lol), sw, pining, non-sexual intimacy, sexually explicit content, threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex (everyone is receiving at some point), masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom/sub, sub!reader, dom!ambessa, switch!sevika, mommy kink, strength kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sevika & ambessa, y'all there's a lot of nastiness in here idk if i can warn for it all, discussions of sexuality, implied assault (non-graphic, within conversation), slightly dub-con, angst, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, arranged marriage, sexual tension, hate sex, bisexual!reader.

wc: 10.3k

PLAYLIST.

notes: y'all, i'm going to hell. i had fun with this. i have such a soft spot for plots like this.

ACT I: CONCEPTION. you were used to feeling like a guest in your own life, everything fleeting, everything temporary.

sugaring was something inherently lacking permanence, even in name. it was sweet for a moment, full of gleaming gifts that you accepted with perfect tears in your eyes.

you had more than enough money, saved from endless months in which you traipsed across the world in the hands of older men. maybe it was about the attention now, this idea that you were still young enough to be considered enticing without effort. maybe it was the desperation to wring what you could out of an age gap connection before you became the older one.

still, in the beginning years of your twenties, you found it increasingly grating. very quickly, you understood that the men were the main problem.

they were all the same: fleshy jowls wiggling as they chewed thickly through caviar and jasmine rice, their boisterous laughs sailing across tables when you attempted to join conversations. they took your interests and re-explained them to you, returning them pulpy and distorted as they attempted to convince you that you didn't understand them the way they did. their self-importance clung to them like cheap cologne.

the rare occasions where you actually slept with them were mercifully short, and you learned to suspend yourself out of your body. you would imagine hovering somewhere over yourself, banished to the lavish mirrored ceiling of the ritz or whatever opulent hotel they'd chosen. they shuddered awkwardly above you, and afterward, you'd come back into yourself only to scrub viciously at your skin under the unforgiving spray of the shower.

the women were different—usually. you found yourself drawn to their luxury perfumes and high society drawls. it was because of this that you dropped working through an agency—which you had originally chosen to better protect yourself from male clients—and began independent contracting.

you kept a private log of the ones you liked best. there was the private university professor (who was really a nepotism baby) who loved to wear le labo matcha 26 and smelled so deliciously of fig whenever she kissed you that you sometimes bought the fruit just to continue tasting her. her nickname for you was something in greek—μωρό μου, you think. moro mou. she told you it meant 'my baby', but in all honesty, she could have called you anything. you just liked hearing her speak.

you were a dreamy, distant creature. your appeal lay in your ethereal quality, moving through the world in a way that suggested you were detached from it. people described your presence as lingering, smokey and soft, like a fading perfume in a sunlit room. there was something endearing about the tilt of your head, the deliberate pause in your movements and speech as you stewed in thought, that made people stare a second too long.

you had plied yourself with romantic imaginations since you were younger, when you first grew to hate your mother. that hatred had led you across far waters into a glittering life of your own making. but you'd learned that women could be just as dangerous, if not more so. they could ensnare you, shatter your heart with just the flicker of a glance.

so, of course, this meant that you were bound to get caught in the tides of extensive affection at some point. you just didn't expect it to be with them.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the first sign should have been the unusual nature they coaxed from you.

you typically focused on one relationship at a time, securing yourself to a single person until you became too honest or too sensitive or too old. but with them, you fo​​und yourself with what you called a roster—a term your best friend and fellow sugar baby clleo (yes, two l's) took issue with during your weekly brunches.

"it's not a roster when it's only two women, [name]," she said, stirring her mimosa with a silver straw.

"it's more than one, no?"

"i feel like you have to have a minimum of three." she raised an eyebrow. "though i have to admit, even two is unusual for you."

the first was ambessa.

you'd met her when you weren't even looking, at some jazz show clleo had received tickets for from her newest beau. you had been perched inside the red velvet of the box, eyes roving over the insides of the other open balcony seats. you loved to observe, to look into others' lives and pretend they could be your own.

that night, you'd worn a navy slip dress that pushed the line of being dress-code appropriate, but it was comfortable and you had been tired. your hair was elaborately braided away from your face, threaded through with silk ribbons of the same color. despite its usually disagreeable nature, you'd managed to make it look elegant enough. your skin was littered with goosebumps from the fervent blasting of the air conditioning.

for once, you'd done your makeup the way you preferred it—less blushing ingenue, more cool nudes and a dark, bold lip. in the bottom of your purse sat two rolling bullets of lipstick: one a berry shade, the other a satiny red slightly subdued by a touch of brown pigment.

your feet had been curled beneath you, your ballet flats cast aside in the corner. the rounded tops were slightly scuffed, but you only saw it as a testimony of love. again, you looked out into the crowd only to find a woman looking back.

she was utterly beautiful, and your body flushed with heat for a moment, eyes wide like a doe. her skin was a dark, rich brown that gleamed with a sheen of oil and perhaps a shimmering body mist. her hair—black and streaked with thin rivers of gray—was pulled up into a tight bun, though the front was cornrowed. her mouth was full and smooth, a small gold cuff inserted in the middle of her bottom lip.

that night, she'd worn an oversized blazer over tailored pants. your eyes caught on her diamond cufflinks, and you felt your fingers clutch tighter around the bulk of your vintage ysl clutch.

she watched you with a sense of urgency, as if you might take flight like a bird and never return. bashfully, you turned back to watch the performance and clapped politely as it came to an end. her gaze never strayed from you, and as you rose to leave with clleo, you knew that she would be waiting.

you don't remember much of what happened after, of arranging the contract and indenturing yourself to her wealth. you only remember how she made you feel, her great body towering over you as she pierced you with her shrewd gaze. she'd cupped your elbow, pulled you gently to the side so that you were less in the way. the movement was easy; you trusted her with your body immediately.

now, ambessa reigned over the entries of your leather journal as your clear favorite. everything she did further endeared you to her, and you found yourself tumbling out of bed to check your phone where it lay on the floor, desperate for her messages. you watched the device all night, its flat body connected to a limp white cord plugged into the wall—willing it to ring.

and when she did call, you were almost delirious with joy.

ambessa's world was a carefully curated exhibition of power. noxus corp dominated the skyline with its obsidian tower, all sharp angles and tinted windows that reflected the setting sun like spilled blood. you'd learned early on not to ask too many questions about her work. the corporate merger making headlines—something about expanding into the industrial district of zaun—was just background noise to the way she'd trace your collarbone with cold fingers heavy with rings.

belatedly, in the midst of your betrayal and anguish, you’d berate yourself on your refusal to engage with real life when it inconvenienced you. you could’ve caught on, dived deep into the hole of information that was the internet as clleo did when taking up with someone new. but you didn’t, you just answered her call.

she liked to dress you up. tonight, it was a paper-thin black dress that cost more than your month's rent, the fabric liquid against your skin. you'd paired it with kitten heels that made soft clicking sounds against the marble floors—ambessa preferred when you were shorter than her, easier to maneuver, to possess. your lips were stained the color of coffee, and you'd lined your eyes with something dusky and soft.

the restaurant was the kind of place that didn't list prices on the menu, where the silverware felt weighty enough to be used as weapons. you liked this style of dining; it allowed you to escape further. you could pretend that since there were no prices, every morsel you ate was free and that the woman across from you was someone whom you loved and received love back from instead of bills.

“pull your hair back,” she commanded softly when you sat down, reaching across to brush a strand from your face. her touch lingered longer than necessary. “i want to see you properly. you should never feel a need to hide from me.”

you obliged, using the elastic around your wrist to gather your hair into a loose knot. the movement exposed the necklace she'd given you last week—a delicate thing of white gold and diamonds that probably cost more than your university education. her eyes darkened with satisfaction. she liked marking you with beautiful things, preferred to communicate through touch and gifts rather than words.

you preened under her clear pleasure. the idea that you’d done something right flowed through you, sweet as sugar as was the phenomenon of female favoritism. your tongue settled behind your teeth as she skimmed the menu, ordering for you as she always did. she seemed more aware of what you liked and needed more than you had ever been.

“are you alright with sharing the roast monkfish tonight, little lamb? i’m not all that hungry, so i think we should deal with something light.”

you nodded and she smiled, chucking your chin as she flagged down the server. you squeezed your thighs together, resisting the urge to rise from your seat and sit at her side with your head resting in her lap.

the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine you were unfamiliar with, which meant it was far more expensive than your beloved six-dollar gas station sémillon. as ambessa swirled the dark liquid in her glass, her phone buzzed. her expression hardened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over.

"business," she said simply, standing. "order whatever you'd like. i'll return shortly."

you caught fragments of her conversation as she walked away—something about zaun's infrastructure and liability concerns. one hour bled into two. the waiter refilled your glass with practiced discretion, and you watched the ice in ambessa's water melt completely. your phone remained silent except for a single text: an urgent matter requires my attention. car service will take you home.

the words blurred on your screen. you'd grown used to her absences, the way she could withdraw completely into her world of corporate warfare, leaving you adrift in these expensive spaces. but tonight, the emptiness felt sharper somehow. you had, more than ever, wanted her to take you home.

it was then that the woman entered the restaurant, right as you blinked upward to dispel the gathering tears. the air seemed to shift with her presence as she absentmindley looked in your direction.

she moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew how to handle herself in the cruel maw of this world, efficient and forceful despite wearing an expertly tailored suit. her left arm caught the light strangely—some sort of advanced prosthetic that spoke of military tech or private healthcare. a significant scar bisected her face, but rather than diminishing her beauty, it enhanced her striking features.

your paths crossed at the bar while you waited for a fresh glass of wine. she ordered whiskey, neat, and her voice was rough velvet.

"you're wearing that necklace wrong," she said, not looking at you directly. "the clasp should be centered at the nape. here."

before you could protest, her fingers—warm, unlike ambessa's—were at your neck, adjusting the chain. you caught a whiff of motor oil beneath expensive perfume. you swayed slightly, pressing into her touch. she steadied you with a single finger at the beginning knob of your spine, strong where you were momentarily weak.

"i'm sevika," she said, finally meeting your eyes. something in her gaze made your breath catch. you’d never seen eyes that grey. "you look like you could use something stronger than wine."

you smiled, albeit shakily, which avalanched into finding yourself talking to her about everything and nothing—about the book of poetry you kept on your nightstand for late night reading, about the way you collected vintage coats, about how you sometimes felt like you were floating three feet above your own life.

she listened with an intensity that made you feel anchored, present in your skin in a way you hadn't felt in months. her questions were sparse but precise, each one drawing out another story, another piece of yourself you hadn't meant to expose. and then she asked you to leave with her, and the answer was quick and easy. a light, eager ‘yes’.

the speakeasy she took you to was hidden beneath an auto shop, all exposed brick and piano medleys that wrapped around you like rope. in the dim light, you noticed the way her prosthetic arm moved with incredible precision as she gestured, the way her eyes softened almost imperceptibly when you laughed. she noticed you shiver and draped her jacket over your shoulders without comment, the leather still warm from her body.

"i manage specialized acquisitions," she said when you asked what she did, her smile suggesting there was more to the story. "currently dealing with some complex merger negotiations. but that's boring. tell me more about that poetry collection you mentioned."

you talked until your voice grew hoarse, until the early hours when the city felt like it belonged only to those who were lost or hiding. when she dropped you home, she fixed your broken porch light without being asked, her movements quick and purposeful. you found out later she'd also left her number saved in your phone under 's'.

what you didn't know—couldn't have known—was that across town, ambessa was returning to the penthouse she shared with her wife of six months, their marriage a carefully hidden clause in the merger agreement between noxus and zaun's industrial empire. their shared living space was largely ceremonial, each woman keeping to their own wing, intersecting only for appearances and board meetings.

that night, sevika found ambessa in their shared study, both of them surrounded by contract papers and acquisition reports.

"the zaun infrastructure reports," sevika said, dropping a thick folder on the desk. her wedding ring caught the light—a simple band worn only within these walls.

"you're late," ambessa replied without looking up. "the board expects updates by morning."

"i had a personal matter to attend to."

"as did i."

neither woman acknowledged sevika’s missing jacket which she never was without, nor the faint perfume—your perfume—that clung to ambessa's blazer. their arrangement was clear: their marriage was business, their personal lives their own. they had trained themselves not to care what, or who, the other did in their free time.

but that night, for the first time since their arranged union, both women found themselves thinking of the same person as they worked in silence. it was one of their more agreeable evenings together.

ACT II: GROWING PAINS.

“where do you go?”

you turned, half-lidded, your hair mussed into an untamed bird’s nest. sevika lay beside you, her smile a lopsided thing—teasing, warm, a little worn. you leaned toward her instinctively, pressing a lazy finger into the shallow dimple that cut into her cheek.

she caught your wrist before you could withdraw, lips brushing the tender pulse beneath your skin before pulling you into her chest. her hand slid across your stomach, warm and heavy, before it wandered higher to pinch your nipple just shy of too hard.

the two of you had met in a hotel, yet somehow, it felt less clinical than it should have.

“what do you mean?” you murmured, breath catching as her hand stilled.

“you go somewhere,” she said, “when we fuck.”

the words hung between you, and you felt your body shift under her scrutiny. her gaze trailed the uneasy motion of your shoulder blades as you shifted upright. honesty clawed at your throat, but you tried to swallow it back. you’ve never been the tiger, only the tiger’s bride.

“i often—” you broke off, tongue darting to wet your lips. her arm tightened around your waist, as if sensing your instinct to retreat. “i tend to disassociate when i do this part of things. i’m not—what i want, i usually can’t achieve. i don’t want to make it anyone’s problem, so i float.”

“float?” she repeated softly. her tone was unreadable, but you refused to meet her eyes.

“i pick a spot on the ceiling,” you admitted, voice small. “from there, i phase myself out of my body. it’s like it’s happening to someone else.”

sevika said nothing at first, and the silence thickened as you focused on the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. then, carefully, she shifted you into her lap, holding you there like a delicate thing. her lips found the center of your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart before trailing up to the vulnerable line of your throat.

“you do this with me?”

“not always,” you whispered. “you’re…different. you pay attention to me—what i need. only two other people have ever been that way. both women.”

“mmm. do you still see them?” her voice was calm, but you caught the subtle current of possession beneath her words.

“only one.”

“and?”

“it’s good with her. one of the best.”

“and what do you want?” she pressed. the question lodged itself in your chest. “you said you can’t achieve it.”

your cheeks burned, and you squirmed in her lap, but she held you fast. “i—this is embarrassing.”

“there’s nothing embarrassing about your desires, baby girl,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want you to enjoy this too.”

“i do enjoy it, but…i’d like to go further. i like to go under.” you hesitated, then added, “you know that i’m—”

“submissive,” she finished for you.

you nodded, your voice softening as you continued. “i don’t really like the harsher aspects of submission, but i love being taken somewhere else—being softer. i love being told i’m good, that i’m doing well. i love being pushed past my limits, to the point where i’m…hazy. overstimulated. freed from my worries through my body, through the pleasure i give and receive.

“when you manhandle me, when you pull me close and push into me like you’re starving for it, when you break me apart with your mouth, i get so close. i hover in this warm heaven where i’m nothing but what i feel. you know?”

sevika’s expression softened, her face almost unbearably open. before you could process it, she moved, pressing you into the mattress beneath her. her broad frame blotted out the light, sheltering you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

“you are good, baby,” she finally said. “so good.”

her lips fell again to your neck and you felt her slide her thick fingers into the warm walls of your cunt. a sound slid from your throat, something gutteral and worn. she began to move, curling her fingers as if you pull you closer. there, in the back of your mind, was that heaven.

she kissed your temple, her lips lingering there as your body arched into her hands. “thank you for telling me.”

then, softer: “that heaven? i want to take you there.”

the words sank into your skin, heady and heavy, as if she’d whispered she loved you.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa had endured a long day—one filled with tedious negotiations and the peculiar frustrations of ruling over people who thought themselves her equals. she'd craved just one moment of quiet in her house, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

when she stepped through the door, the sight of her wife pacing their kitchen dragged a weary sigh from her chest. sevika's movements were sharp, her broad shoulders taut beneath the worn leather of her jacket. even now, after months of marriage, seeing sevika in their shared space felt like an intrusion.

for a fleeting moment, ambessa considered turning around, but she hadn’t built empires by running from conflict.

“sevika,” she began, voice clipped, “if this is about zaun’s profit percentage in the acquisition, i suggest you take it up with legal. i’ve no patience to discuss business tonight.”

“it’s not that,” sevika muttered, her tone bristling with frustration. “but thanks for your grace, medarda.”

ambessa’s eyebrow arched. “then what?”

sevika stilled, the weight of her gaze pinning ambessa in place. “are you the other woman?”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. then irritation flared, swift and hot.

“i thought we agreed we weren’t in love,” ambessa replied, dry as the desert. “who i see outside this house is none of your concern, unless it compromises our arrangement.”

sevika exhaled sharply, the sound edged with restrained anger. she reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone, its screen casting a gentle glow across the marble counter. with a few taps, she pulled up a recent conversation.

she paused, a smile stealing across her face as she took in the selfie you'd sent of you and clleo in matching milano blaniks. the tenderness in her expression was something ambessa had never seen before.

my feet hurt but it might be worth it!! you'd texted. she had responded in record time.

looking cute, baby girl. i like the purple.

me too! they had a navy and gold pair i would kill for, but i'm trying to be responsible.

sevika's smile deepened, and this time she sent a bank transfer along with her next message.

you can be a little irresponsible.

oh, sevi. that's not what i meant.

i know. i don't mind. get them both.

"i'm sorry, but were we not having a conversation?" ambessa's voice cut through the moment like frost.

sevika snapped back to reality, her face twisting into something ugly—the expression she reserved solely for ambessa. she selected another image, and ambessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the familiar necklace adorning your throat.

she recognized it instantly—it had rested on her desk just nights ago, a small token of indulgence she’d gifted you during one of your afternoons together.

you were smiling, beaming, caught mid-laugh. your hair was damp, clinging to your cheeks, and a sea lion nudged at your side. it was an image of unfiltered joy.

"she was talking to me the other night," sevika began, her voice tight as a wire. "mentioned some other woman. i thought it was a client thing, but then she showed me this." she gestured at the screen. "that necklace. it was on your desk when i saw you."

ambessa said nothing at first, her jaw working. finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with something like resignation. “i didn’t know. i assumed she might have other clients, but i didn’t pursue her because of you.”

sevika’s shoulders sagged slightly, but the tension in her face remained. she bent her head, palms pressing into the cool marble of the counter. “what the fuck.”

“does she know?” ambessa asked after a beat.

"what would it matter?" sevika shot back, her voice rising like tide. her gaze locked on ambessa, and her lips twisted in disbelief. "holy shit. are you in love with her?"

the question hit like a blow, but ambessa’s reaction was instant.

“as if you’re any better,” she snapped. her tone turned venomous, sharp as a blade. “you sulk through the door, reeking of her sex, then slink into the shower as if i can’t hear you simpering in there.”

sevika straightened, anger sparking. “and you’re what? innocent?”

ambessa’s laugh was cold, cruel. “i’ve never been innocent a day in my life. but you—god, sevika, you’re pathetic. you’re worse than i thought.”

sevika’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t lash out. instead, she held her ground, her gaze fierce. “what do we do now?”

ambessa hesitated. her mind raced through the implications, the potential fallout. finally, she crossed her arms, her posture stiff. “we don’t tell her.”

“and keep lying to her?” sevika’s voice cracked slightly. “how long do you think that’ll work?”

“as long as it has to,” ambessa replied, her voice low and final. “this arrangement isn’t just about her, sevika. it’s about us. about what we’ve built. if you care about her as much as you claim, you’ll think before ruining what little stability we have left.”

“for fuck’s sake, ambessa. she’s a sweet girl. she won’t—”

“you have no idea what she will do if she finds out,” ambessa hissed. “and i know how sweet she is. she’s the only goddamn person i know who can stand me. who do you think i’m really protecting?”

for once, sevika had no retort. the silence between them was loud, heavy, filled with unsaid things.

“i’ll handle it,” ambessa said after a long pause, her voice softer now but no less firm. “but don’t let your feelings make you sloppy. if you can’t compartmentalize, this will all fall apart.”

sevika turned away, her shoulders tense. “it’s already falling apart.”

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa didn’t sleep that night.

not because of sevika’s words—though they lingered like a sour taste in her mouth—but because of you. she’d grown accustomed to the softness of your skin beneath her fingers, the way your presence softened the edges of her world, made it almost bearable. and yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you might be nothing more than collateral damage in this carefully constructed house of cards.

the following morning, as sunlight filtered through the sprawling windows of her office, ambessa reached for her phone. her fingers hovered over your contact, her mind warring with itself. she’d always prided herself on her control, on her ability to compartmentalize. but now, for the first time in years, she felt the cracks forming.

her phone buzzed before she could decide, sevika’s name flashing across the screen.

“what now?” ambessa answered, her tone clipped.

“the gala,” sevika began, her voice unusually subdued. “this year it’s your turn to host, right?”

ambessa’s grip tightened on the phone. “yes. and what about it?”

“and,” sevika said, dragging out the word, “she’ll be there. she got an invite through one of her clients.”

the air seemed to still around her. “you’re certain?”

“positive,” sevika replied. “what do you want to do?”

ambessa leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the skyline. the decision should have been simple: handle the event with poise, maintain appearances, and ensure that you remained blissfully unaware. but something about sevika’s tone made her pause.

“we’ll stick to the plan,” ambessa said finally. “she doesn’t know, and she won’t find out. not from us.”

they both knew it was only a beautiful dream.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

and then suddenly, it was different. it was horrible in its subtleness, but enough to make you less comfortable than you were before.

you went to dinner. ​​ambessa watched you with eyes as sharp as her diamond cufflinks, and you wondered if she knew how small you felt in her presence. you let her brush her thumb over your lower lip, and you leaned into it, hoping she doesn’t notice your hands gripping your clutch too tightly.

“is something wrong?” you asked her, throat closing around the end of the question.

she seemed to startle, and leaned back with a shake of her head. you knew what was coming next. she was going to blame work or her family, which you barely knew about, or maybe something as clandestine as the weather. you suddenly felt entirely too sick. you took a sip of wine, eyes falling on the little brown bag that sat next to you.

every gift you unwrapped felt a little like a goodbye, the sparkle dulled by the unspoken terms behind it. you kept smiling, face stretching tediously through the pain though your heart was sinking because nothing ruined a good arrangement faster than too much honesty.

you must’ve overstepped somewhere down the line, and she had grown weary of it. you were sweating now, looking away from her. it didn’t help that your phone had stayed dark all evening, your slew of messages to sevika read and unanswered.

“i finished that book you gave me,” you offered and ambessa nodded. “it was lovely. a little macabre, but i managed to push through.”

“bessa?” you asked, voice small.

the nickname seemed to spur her back into herself and she reached across the table, clutching your hand. her rings pressed cold indents into your skin. you'd grown to love the weight of them.

"the annual noxus environmental gala is tomorrow night," she said finally. her thumb traced circles on your palm. "i'd like you to come."

your heart stuttered. she'd never invited you to a public event before. "another client already invited me. i’ll be there."

she squeezed your hand once before letting go, unfazed by the mention of someone else. "good."

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the evening was opulent in a way that made your skin prickle. the ballroom shimmered with soft golden light, chandeliers casting their glow across marble floors that reflected everything like still water.

you'd been invited by marcus—a client who preferred your company over dinner to discuss art and literature, who looked at you like you were made of gold but never asked for more than conversation. he was safe, a spiderweb you could free yourself from anytime without losing any skin.

your dress—a gift from ambessa—felt like a confession of infidelity. marcus had said nothing in the car, but his face had been momentarily confused. he kept track of what he gifted you, and he hadn’t seen this before. you offered no explanation, just smiled softly and held his clammy hand.

the fabric whispered against your skin with every movement, reminding you of her touch. you held your champagne glass like a shield, watching the bubbles rise and disappear, each one carrying a fragment of your certainty with it.

the past week had been strange. ambessa's usual sharp edges had softened into something almost tender, while sevika's messages had grown shorter, more distant. she’d eventually responded to the ones that had been read, but you felt as though you had disturbed her with them. you'd attributed it to work, to the upcoming shareholder conference business weekly had written about. you were good at making excuses for the people you loved.

and then you saw her.

ambessa stood on the stage like she'd been born there, her voice carrying across the room with the kind of authority that made everyone else feel small. her dress was long and white, with a delicate slit framing the plump skin of her thigh. it clung to her frame with an elegance that made your heart ache. you didn't want to admit how your chest tightened at the sight of her, how your body betrayed you with its instinctive pull toward her presence.

but before you could fully process the sight of her, another figure emerged from the crowd.

sevika.

she stood near the base of the stage, her broad frame impossible to miss. her presence was quieter than ambessa's, but no less commanding. the way she held herself—like she belonged here, like this was her world too—made something cold settle in your stomach. you shifted away from marcus, moved slightly forward with a furrowed brow.

it wasn't just their proximity—it was the way they moved. the way sevika's gaze lingered on ambessa, the subtle nods they exchanged, as if communicating in a language only they were privy to. and then, as if to confirm your worst fears, ambessa's hand brushed sevika's arm in a gesture so familiar, so natural, that the truth hit you like a truck.

the matching rings caught the light. the world tilted sideways.

the soft hum of conversation turned to static, the lights too bright, the room too warm. you tried to steady yourself, clutching the edge of a nearby cocktail table and nearly taking it down, but the weight of realization pressed down on you like a tide. marcus was asking after you, but you snapped at him.

you thought of the gifts—how similar their tastes had been. the way they both knew too much about each other’s companies, about each other's worlds. the little moments that should have added up but hadn't—because you hadn't wanted them to. you'd ignored the signs, wrapped yourself in their separate affections like blankets against the cold.

someone nearby whispered, "isn't that their…" the words trailed off, heavy with implication. you spun, eyes wide and searching. you couldn’t tell who had spoken.

the champagne glass slipped from your fingers. it didn't shatter—caught by a waiter's quick reflexes—but the sound of it leaving your hand seemed to echo through the room. both women turned at the noise, their expressions shifting from professional neutrality to something raw and complicated.

“do you know her?” the question came from a guest nearby, their curious tone laced with amusement.

the tension shattered. the murmurs began, the subtle shifts of the crowd as more guests turned to watch the unfolding spectacle. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the gathering noise like a blade.

“how long?”

ambessa stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. “it’s not what you think—”

“don’t,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “don’t you dare lie to me.”

sevika tried to intervene, her hand reaching out as if to steady you, but you recoiled, your fury spilling over. “you both knew,” you said, your voice rising. “you knew, and you let me—”

sevika tried again."baby—"

"don't." the word came out hard and cold.

you backed away, your heels suddenly unsteady beneath you. the crowd parted like water, their whispers following you like shadows. you felt that your dress was transparent, exposing your body to the their ravaging gaze. you made it halfway down the marble steps before sevika caught your arm. her touch was warm, familiar—everything you'd grown to love and now couldn't bear.

"please," she said, her voice rough with something like desperation. she couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to be desperate. "please."

"let go of me." you tried to pull away, but she was stronger. had always been stronger.

"we never meant—"

"what?" your voice cracked. "to hurt me? to make me look like a fool? do you think i love being a loser? that i would be fine because i would view this as some way of knowing what it was like to win?" you yanked harder, and suddenly you were falling.

the puddle wasn't deep, but it was enough. your dress—ambessa's dress—soaked through instantly, clinging to your skin like shame. you stayed there on your hands and knees, watching your tears make ripples in dirty water.

"stand up," ambessa's voice came from behind you, softer than you'd ever heard it. “come inside. we can—”

"no." you pushed yourself to your feet, water streaming from ruined silk. your makeup was running—you could feel it tracking down your cheeks, and somehow that small detail destroyed you more than anything else. for the first time in a long time, you felt ugly. "i don’t want to come inside."

when you looked up, they were both there. ambessa's perfect composure had cracked, showing something raw underneath. sevika looked like she wanted to reach for you again but didn't dare.

"were you laughing about it?" your voice was barely audible. "about how pathetic i was, falling for both of you?"

"no," sevika said quickly. "god, no. we didn't even know—"

"until when?"

"a week ago," ambessa admitted. the truth fell between you, landed hard.

you stepped back, barefoot now, heels dangling from one hand. "oh my god. were you ever going to tell me?”

their silence was answer enough. the air around you grew thin.

a scream rose up from the depths of you before you could stop it, and echoed wildly from the sides of surrounding buildings. you clutched at your face, eyes screwing shut as you let out a terrible heaving noise. you knew they were seeing you now as you really were: a frantic girl who clasped desperately at whatever she could get in order to save herself.

“i hate you,” you screamed at them, hurling the words like they were knives. “i hate you! i never want you to speak to me again.”

it was rendered useless because the three of you knew that simply wasn’t the truth.

“just—leave me alone,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

their expressions were unreadable. if you gave in to your delusions, you could believe that ambessa looked slightly ill.

you walked away, legs shaking, each step carrying you further from everything you'd thought was real. behind you, you could hear them arguing in harsh whispers, but you didn't turn around. the city lights blurred through your tears until everything was just a soft shape and shadow.

your apartment felt suffocating when you returned, the silence oppressive in its stillness. you sank onto the couch, your dress pooling around you like a shroud. the tears came in waves, each one more relentless than the last.

you thought of ambessa’s calculated charm, sevika’s quiet strength, the way they’d both made you feel seen, cherished. and then you thought of the lies. you reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you typed out a message. but no words came. what could you possibly say? that you hated them? you’d done that. that you missed them already? that you wouldn’t know how to exist without them?

instead, you deleted their numbers, one by one, the act feeling both liberating and excruciating. for the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly alone.

your mother was right. you were such a fun girl, but impossible to love. when someone looked at you, they’d never see someone worth settling down with. another wail unearthed itself, reverberating through the grave of your body. you twisted, holding yourself with your own arms as you felt the grief break you down.

you would never see them again. there was nothing worse than this, not now. you felt like you’d be better off dead.

ACT III: DEFORMATION.

ambessa hadn’t slept in days.

the boardroom’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her sharp features as she reviewed contracts she couldn’t focus on. every word blurred into the next, her thoughts returning to the look on your face when the truth unraveled.

“i don’t think i can fix this,” she had told sevika the night it happened, her voice hollow as they sat in the dim confines of her private office.

sevika hadn’t responded, her silence cutting deeper than any argument could. ambessa could tell her wife blamed her, and in some ways, she couldn’t disagree.

sevika, in response, buried herself in her work. her nights were spent overseeing global operations, her jaw clenched tight as she barked orders to underlings down the phone who didn’t dare question her unrelenting pace.

but even the chaos of the company’s industrial sprawl couldn’t drown out the memory of you. the sound of your pleausre haunted her—high and wispy as she ate at you. her dreams were vivid, stuck on the way you’d lit up when you talked about the things you loved—things she hadn’t known enough to ask about.

they’d both lost you, and they felt it in the empty spaces you’d left behind.

ambessa, meanwhile, pulled back. she gave the reins to her daughter for an indeterminate amount of time, something viewed as largely positive and a sign of trust. but those who knew her interpreted it as a sign of grave danger.

her days were spent much like yours, wrapped in the endless heart of her bed which she only left to sink underneath the soapy water of a warm bath. there were several evenings where sevika would stumble home, slightly drunk but coherent enough to check on ambessa and yank her from the bottom of the bath.

“no,” she rasped, her hand tight on ambessa’s thick wrist. “you face it.”

and you?

well, eventually you realized that the world would continue to move on. blessedly, your breakdown hadn’t hit the headlines or social media platforms. you knew this had to be the work of them, but it was the least you deserved. you cut all arrangements you had leftover. the gifts were boxed up and put into storage.

despite your dramatics, you reminded yourself to not be stupid. all cash you had kept was deposited into your bank account, in increments so it wasn’t flagged as suspicious. you had well over thousands, so you broke your lease and found a block several miles from where you used to be.

you’d invited clleo to live with you, but she’d refused citing her current suitor as her preferred living situation. she felt that he was the one, that they would marry. you felt your bitterness rise up, but you shot it right in the middle of its scaled head. you were happy for her, you said instead of “he doesn’t mean it. please don’t believe him.”

please send an invite.

she’d cupped your face and kissed your cheek. of course. you’ve been with me through everything.

so, you broke another lease and left the city.

ACT IV: REVIVAL.

true to her word, clleo did get married, and she did more than invite you. you were her maid of honor; the only bridesmaid at that. this meant that you were captured into a lavish gown that showed more skin than you thought would be appropriate.

“we can’t forget where we came from,” clleo had said coquettishly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. she treated you so fragilely now, and you clung to it. you were pretending it was something else.

the wedding was a spectacle of opulence—ivory drapes cascading from every corner of the venue, chandeliers dripping crystal tears, and flowers so fragrant they felt like an embrace. the air buzzed with the cloying sweetness of a celebration meant to declare love eternal. you floated through it all, a wraith in your own right, bound by duty and the magnetic pull of clleo’s joy. you wore the dress she picked for you: black satin that crushed in on itself like paper whenever you moved and clung like sin, with lace so delicate it felt like a secret. it revealed too much and not enough all at once. you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she’d wanted you to stand out or to feel exposed. to embarrass you.

no, this was clleo. you were simply…paranoid now.

the ceremony was a blur, a kaleidoscope of vows and veils, of clleo’s radiant smile and the way her hand trembled in her husband’s. you caught the bouquet because she’d aimed it at you, her laugh like champagne bubbles bursting in the air. it was later, during the reception, that you felt it—that electric hum at the back of your neck, the awareness of being watched. you turned, and there they were.

ambessa and sevika.

they stood together, an impenetrable force against the crowd. ambessa’s gaze was as sharp as ever, her golden gown gleaming meanly, a study in power and restraint. sevika, beside her, had the air of someone caught between worlds, her hand resting on a glass of something dark, her eyes locked on you. they hadn’t been invited. you knew this because clleo would have warned you. yet here they were, as if summoned by the threads of some cruel, cosmic joke.

your stomach tightened, but you refused to look away. instead, you tilted your chin, the soft wave of your hair catching the light, and took a slow sip of wine. if they wanted to haunt you, they would have to work for it.

it didn’t take long. ambessa approached first, her steps deliberate, her presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. “you look beautiful,” she said, her voice low enough that it felt like a secret. you hated how your skin warmed under her gaze.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you replied, though the edge in your voice felt dull, worn down by something deeper.

sevika joined her then, her expression inscrutable but her proximity unnerving. “we needed to see you,” she said, her voice rougher, as if it cost her something to speak.

“at a wedding? how romantic.” you let the words hang, your lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “good thing it’s not mine.”

sevika’s lips twitched, and you scowled. your pain was not for her amusement.

“[name], we made mistakes,” ambessa said, and for the first time, there was something fragile in her tone, a crack in the glass. it distracted you from your ire. “but we haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

you set your glass down, your fingers trembling against the crystal stem. “i don’t think this is the time or place.”

“when is?” sevika countered, her voice steady but her eyes revealing something raw. “you’ve been avoiding us.”

“i said i never wanted to speak to either one of you again and yet, here you are,” you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the haze of alcohol and longing. “do you think crashing a wedding will fix what you broke?”

ambessa’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “we’re not here to fix it. we’re here because we can’t let it end like this. and it’s not crashing if the groom extends an invite at the behest of the bride.”

your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise of the reception faded into a dull roar. clleo’s laughter rang out from somewhere behind you, a reminder of where you were, of what you’d tried so hard to rebuild. why did everyone betray you?

“i can’t do this,” you whispered, stepping back. the movement felt like tearing yourself in two.

“baby girl,” sevika said, her voice low, almost pleading. “look at me. this isn’t some big scheme, okay? let’s talk. we don’t even have to do it here. we can go anywhere you fucking want. just like before, mama.”

you shook your head, the weight of their words pressing against the fragile walls you’d built around yourself. “i need air,” you said, your voice barely audible, and before they could respond, you turned and slipped into the crowd.

“[name!]” ambessa called.

fuck being the tiger's bride, you were the tiger. you stood your ground, kept walking.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the gardens were quiet, the air cool against your skin as you leaned against the wrought-iron railing. the night sky stretched endlessly above you, an intricate canvas of stars that felt too indifferent to your pain. but the world wasn’t responsible for soothing you.

you’d thought the distance would help, that the cool air would clear your head, but instead, it only magnified the ache in your chest.

you heard them before you saw them, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. you didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge their presence, but you felt it—that charge, that unbearable pull that had slaughtered you repeatedly since the beginning.

“i didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“we’re not asking for forgiveness,” ambessa said, her voice soft but firm. “we are willing—we’re willing to take what we can get. we want to make this right.”

you turned then, your eyes meeting hers, and for the first time, you saw it—the vulnerability, the regret. sevika stood slightly behind her, her expression shadowed but her eyes fixed on you with the same intensity.

“and what does that look like?” you asked, your voice breaking despite yourself. “what could you possibly do to undo the damage?”

ambessa stepped closer, her hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “we can’t undo it,” she admitted. “but we can promise to be better. to show you that you’re the only thing that matters.”

“you’re both so good with words. but words don’t mean anything if they’re not backed by action.” you laughed then, a bitter sound that cut through the stillness. “you always made me feel like i mattered. that’s why it hurt so much. i have no place between you.

sevika finally spoke, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “then let us prove it. on your terms.”

“you’re not good for me.”

ambessa glided forward, caught your chin inbetween her thumb and index finger.

“nothing in this world that we want with so much intensity will ever be good for us.”

you looked between them, your heart a battlefield between desire and self-preservation. the silence stretched, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. finally, you broke out of her grasp, a small, tentative gesture that felt like stepping off a cliff.

“i have no place between you,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper.

sevika's shoulders sagged with disappointment, but ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. she was like a bloodhound with weakness.

“is that what you want, lamb?” you looked up at her, sensing a shift in the air. “you want to be between us? coddled, warm, and safe?”

“ambessa—” sevika began, but the other woman held up a hand.

“you would’ve been fine if you had know that we were married from the beginning, hmm? is that it? your conscience would’ve been sated, right? because it’s not homewrecking or infidelity if the partners are aware of the others transgressions.”

“that’s not fair,” you snapped.

“mmm, well life isn’t. besides, you must be stupid if you think every client you’ve been with hasn’t once had someone waiting at home. this is your life, little lamb. your permanent affliction,” ambessa sneered. “i think you like it.”

you knew this game well. she pushed you, said the best things to make you act your worst. if you gave in, she won.

“fuck you, ambessa.”

“gladly,” she said with a small smile.

you scoffed, irritated beyond belief and moved to storm past her. by doing so, you gave her what she wanted. as you made an effort to leave, she cinched your waist with her arm and pulled you back into her chest. you could feel her breasts against your back, full and ripe like fruit.

“what are you doing?” you asked incredulously.

she didn’t answer, only hiked your dress up to press a ringed hand to your cunt. she held it there, groping the warmth of you until you were leaking in response. you let out a strangled squeal, legs kicking to no avail.

“see? you want us so badly. it’s like an instinct.”

you glanced at sevika, hoping for some fucking common sense but found her gazing at your lace-clad panties with something unfathomly angry lurking across her face.

“who the fuck gave you those?” she said quietly.

you stopped struggling, looking at her fully now. her stormy gaze lifted, piercing you like a spear through weak flesh.

“it wasn’t me, and ambessa never gifted you shit like this.”

“i had—i had other clients,” you answered and she rolled her shoulders, skulking forward. “but i bought these myself. i don’t see anyone else anymore. i can’t—i couldn’t. it was hard.”

her face softened at that, and she came closer. her large body covered the front of you, shielding your exposed body from any prying eyes. this meant that ambessa could slide the fabric to the side and dip a finger into your cunt. the slide was slick due to your drooling arousal, but the pain still startled you.

she was large, almost too much, but it seemed to burst a part of you that had been straining at its locks. you let loose a silent cry, shuddering desperately in her grasp as she explored you tenderly. sevika cooed, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss.

“hold on,” she murmured into your mouth and you clutched onto her, gripping tighter as ambessa gave you over.

sevika walked you over to a small alcove, expertly hidden from immediate vision and grunted as she held you up with one arm—removing her jacket with the other. once the concrete floor was covered appropriately, she lowered you on top of it carefully.

you released her, but barely had a moment to thank her before she was on you. your first thought was that it was like before: relentless, tender, and crushing. her hands slid up your thighs until they grasped at your hips. you rocked into her, moaning softly as she squeezed the soft meat of your stomach. your breath came fast, labored and fueled by aching.

“it’s okay, baby. ‘m right here,” sevika said, her voice low and firm.

she pulled back, spreading your legs till the pink of your pussy was revealed to her hungry gaze. it winked at her, clenching around nothing the longer she looked.

“jesus, i’ve missed this,” she murmured.

you flushed, body pulsing hot with flame. from the side of you, ambessa came prowling. she lowered herself to her knees, back arching neatly as she crawled into the apex of your thighs. her mouth descended upon you with a fervor, her lips closing around your clit and sucking. your back bowed until you were practically hunched over her, hands in her thick hair.

she only adjusted herself so that she could better lick into you, her tongue lapping at every crevice of your cunt. you were dripping all over her face, hips bucking as you fucked forward onto her tongue. her hands came to cup the peach of your ass, squeezing and tugging until you felt like nothing more than a piece of meat. after a moment, ambessa pulled back and laughed as you tried to follow.

“sorry, little lamb, but i need to know if i’m doing a good job” she watched you, eyes sharp. “i know you are.”

you shivered at that, and she smiled. impatiently, you further opened your legs and pushed your sopping pussy toward her.

“c’mon. please.” when nothing happened, you let out a groan. “you’re doing a good job.”

“who’s doing a good job?” ambessa asked, moving closer.

you shivered again, your brain beginning to mottle and smear.

“you are, mommy.”

“fuck,” sevika groaned.

satisfied, ambessa suctioned her lips back over you. you let out a high moan, pushing your chest out. sevika reached over, tugging the bust down and exposing your tits. your nipples were straining toward her, so she dragged one in between your teeth. with a cry of surprise, you slammed your thighs closed around ambessa’s bobbing head. she did nothing to open them herself, only slapped a hand on your inner thigh to get you to correct yourself.

“yes, fuck,” you cried. “fuck, please. please. ohhhh.”

ambessa shook her head back and forth, letting herself get messy as she pushed her face deeper inside of your pussy. you were fully fucking her face now, your clit engorged and begging. whatever filter you’d had before was gone now; your mouth ran like water from a faucet.

“yeah. yeah, mommy, like that. eat your baby’s cunt. lick your girl’s pink little pussy.”

ambessa moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your ass. you bounced as much as you could, that warmth coiling deep inside your stomach. sevika was still teasing your tits, but she had a hand inside of herslef now—her pants pushed down for better access.

when you realized she was trying to rub one out, you came with a primal grunt. ambessa attempted to pull back but you kept her where she was with a firm hand at the nape of her neck. breathlessly, you coaxed sevika up for a kiss and then pulled her away by her hair.

“i want you to touch her,” you instructed. your voice was shaky as you edged toward your second orgasm.

it took her a minute to register what you meant and you watched her cheeks darken, her eyes flickering toward ambessa’s rippling back inbetween your legs and then back to you.

“i know you want to, sevi,” you murmured.

your mind was almost gone now; you were so close to heaven.

you could see her warring with herself, but you also knew her love for you would win out. with a curt nod, she moved until she was behind ambessa and lifted her dress until she was face to face with her naked ass. with an efficent movement, sevika pushed ambessa’s legs open so she could smell the musk of her large cunt. there was a moment where you weren’t sure if she would obey, but then she dived in—licking a large stripe between ambessa’s folds. you seized around ambessa’s tongue as she squealed in surprise, your orgasm pouring from you like honey.

you puhsed her off of you and crawled onto all fours, squatting slightly to make the push of your fingers easier as you entered yourself. despite not pleasuring you anymore, ambessa made no effort to move as sevika slapped a hand on her ass as she slurped at her pussy.

“holy shit,” ambessa muttered and you grinned.

“have you—have you touched each other like this before?” you asked, voice breaking as you reached that spot long your walls. “did you fuck when i left to try to stave the guilt?”

there was no answer, but ambessa stiffened. you laughed, bright and a little unhinged. it was confirmation that they’d thought about, but had never actually followed through. you were in a squatting position now, positioning your hips as you rode your own fingers. you wrist twinged in discomfort, but you were more determined to cum for a third time.

faster and faster, you rode. your head was turned up toward the ceiling of the alcove, your tits bouncing as you began to crest that wave. you closed your eyes, focusing on the shaky inhales of ambessa and the wet squelches of sevika feasting on her.

there was a pause, so you opened your eyes and found sevika flipping ambessa over so that the bigger woman sat on her face. like this, she was even more insatiable. she rocked ambessa back and forth on her face, spreading her own thighs weakly as heat cascaded through her.

you weren’t sure what did it: sevika’s newfound desperation to actually fuck her wife, ambessa’s unrelenting eye contact as she came, or the high whine sevika released when ambessa leaned back to fuck two fingers into her frantically pulsing cunt.

but whatever it was ravaged you. you screamed as you came for the third time, legs trembling as you squirted all over yourself and sevika’s suit jacket. the comedown was impossible. you were incoherent, moaning wildly as the pleasure possessed you.

you heard them both scrambling to move toward you, but you held a hand out. your neck bent, your body settling onto all fours like a lame animal as you let your cunt flutter and clench through the remnants of your orgasm. your chest heaved frantically, but you were euphoric. you’d done it, reached Heaven and taken control.

you glanced up at them and know from the look on their faces, you’ve never been this beautiful. if this was what the french called a little death, you wanted to die forever.

“this is your place,” ambessa said hoarsely. “you belong right in the center. you are the only one who understands. you are our center.”

sevika lay next to her, and she said nothing for a long while. then her face turned toward you. you met her gaze unflinching.

“baby girl, please. please.”

you thought you were the loser.

“it has to be different,” you finally said. the two women broke into identical smiles. “it has to be. i want you to be transparent with me. i’m not a little child.”

you thought you were down for the count.

“like you said,” you continued, staring right at them. “you are my life. this is my life.”

but here you were, the last woman standing.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @baeumonde @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @sevikasllver @indigopearl96 @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @tnash-tammy @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinhos @16novvs @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @starting6over @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @ambessaswhore @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @elena0497 @powderpinkandsweeet @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt

[cruel-as-sin]

take the weight off his shoulders | logan howlett

pt. 2

↳ summary: you're a stripper and old man!logan comes into the club where you work- so you decide to show him a good time.

word count: 3k

song: older | isabel larosa

pairings: old man!logan x fem!stripper!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn w/o plot, prostitution/strip clubs, age gap (readers age is unspecified but she is an adult), praise kink, gentle sex, striptease and lapdance hehe, size difference, protected p in v, grinding, handjob, lingerie mentioned, the glasses stay on, practice safe sex everyone (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: ao3 saw this first and it took way too long for me to move it over to tumblr but. here it is lmao. as i said there old man logan does something CRAZY to me so it was only fitting i wrote about him, enjoy! also this is not proofread so apologies for any mistakes :’)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan's not sure why he goes into the club across the street.

Maybe he needs to feel young again. Maybe he's bored. Maybe the adamantium poisoning the rest of him has finally managed to get to his brain and turned his thoughts into some sort of horny, befuddled shit show.

Or maybe, just maybe, he really is just that fucking desperate.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It's past midnight when he walks through the door. You've been busy all night, but things are finally starting to wind down, the customers that frequent the small establishment slowly trickling out until only a few remain. None of them are your regulars, and given how empty the doorway has been, you're honestly considering calling it a night and going home early. The past few days have been hellish, full of people who didn't do a damn thing to turn you on, and you'd love nothing more than to sink into a warm, cozy bed and drift off to sleep. Tonight, you've been roaming the floor for the past hour without getting anything- everybody is either interested in another one of the workers or entirely fixated on the dancers.

It's not that you don't like your job- you do. Sure, being a stripper isn't the most flattering form of work, but the bills are paid. That's all that really counts these days. Your pride has long since been discarded in favor of earning hefty tips from the sleazy guys who are dumb enough to believe that you'd actually be into them. You put on a good show, of course, but if it weren't for the money? Not a fucking chance.

You like it that way. Hardly any of your clients go beyond the intimacy of a private dance, mainly because you don't let them, reserving that for your favorites. But you haven't met someone who turns you on in a long while, and without the occasional thrill of a real good time from a customer, you're starting to get bored. The days are blurring together, nothing separating the good days from the bad ones, if there even is such a thing anymore.

You're on your way to ask your boss if you can get off early when you hear the bell ring. You groan internally, realizing that you're the only one on the floor who isn't occupied, meaning if this client is interested, they're yours.

Damn it.

So much for an early night.

You're midway through praying to whatever God is out there that this client tips well when you turn and actually lay eyes on them. The moment you do, your mind goes blank, your prayers long forgotten as your thoughts become consumed by him.

He's older- much older. Pushing sixty, at least. It's not inherently a bad thing, but typically the older they are, the more entitled they become.

You're not usually into older men, finding them self-centered, greedy, unable to keep up with your desires; but you're not even ashamed to admit that this stranger could ask you to do just about anything and you'd probably agree in a heartbeat.

The man is tall, big, his muscular form obvious even underneath the suit and tie he wears. His salt and pepper hair is short, accompanied by a scruffy beard you're certain would feel like heaven against your thighs. His tie is loose, his top button undone, and he's got on a pair of dollar-store glasses that he hasn't even pulled the tag off of. There's a weight to him, an exhaustion that seems to have infiltrated the deepest parts of his soul, as if he's seen things you couldn't even begin to fathom- and yet, he's here, seeking some semblance of relief.

Lucky for him, you know exactly how to give it to him.

He looks around like he's lost, the colorful lights and sultry music overwhelming, the center stage where your coworkers get dollar bills thrown at their feet foreign to him. By the time you've made your way over, your legs moving of their own accord, he's turning to leave. "Hey." You call out, and he stops, turning back around to face you.

He's even bigger up close, and his eyes roam over your form almost shamefully before finally meeting your own. "I was just leaving." His voice is rough, a little scratchy, and while you're sure it's supposed to be intimidating, all it does is further fuel the heat pooling between your legs.

"So soon?" You look up at him with a doe-eyed gaze you're well aware makes men weak in the knees.

"I shouldn't be here." He says, but he doesn't walk away from you.

You move a little closer so your breath is fanning across his neck, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I could show you a good time."

"Listen, sweetheart, I've got-"

Sweetheart.

"Let me take care of you." You lean up to whisper in his ear. Your breath is hot against his skin, your mouth tantalizingly close, and you can feel the way he twitches slightly- an exercise of self-control.

A moment passes, two, and he lets out a long breath. "Fuck, darlin'." He reaches out, hesitant to touch, as if he's not sure how this works, doesn’t want to cross some invisible line he hasn’t learned exists. You take his hand, guiding it to your waist, reaching up to put one hand on the back of his neck. "You sure know how to get a guy wrapped around your finger."

In response, you give a coy smile, taking his tie in one hand and giving it a soft tug. He allows you to guide him, pulling him along by the tie you're sure he has a million ideas of what to do with.

You lead him into a private room, pulling the curtain closed behind you, letting his tie slip out of your grasp. His eyes dart around for a moment, but then you're in front of him again, reaching up and sliding his blazer off of his shoulders. You hang it up on the wall, then return, now slowly guiding him backwards and giving him a gentle shove into the leather chair near the wall. He raises an eyebrow as you circle him, leaning in from behind to whisper in his ear. "Just relax." You murmur, letting your lips graze his neck before pulling away. He leans back, eyes following your every move, a stare that feels like it could set you on fire.

You put on a good show for him- dancing, teasing, tantalizingly close, but never touching. Not yet. You can see the hunger in his gaze, the restraint it takes for him not to pull you down into his lap and keep you there. You give him a strip tease, taking off your bra and letting your breasts go free. His eyes roam over you, a murmured word, "Beautiful," leaving his lips, and that makes your already soaked panties drenched.

Then you give him a lap dance- and unlike most of the men you meet, he doesn't touch, doesn't paw at you. Instead he waits, lets you set the pace, doesn't do anything without your permission. Your hands go to his tie, undoing it at a speed you know is killing him, tossing it aside.

Finally, you rest yourself entirely on his lap, and whisper in his ear. "You can touch now, if you want to."

His hands immediately settle on your hips, like they belong there. You grind down against him, feeling him tense beneath you at the friction against his clothed cock. You repeat the motion, relishing in the groan it elicits from him. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, and he begins to guide your motions, pressing you down against his thigh in a way that makes you moan. It's a small, soft sound, but it still makes him smile. “Atta girl, that’s it.” He huffs approvingly. You keep going, feeling yourself almost get lost in the rhythmic movement before you come back to your senses.

Your hands move to the collar of his shirt, slowly beginning to undo the buttons, revealing his toned chest. You only get about halfway down before his hands are gripping your wrists, and your protest dies on your lips when he leans up and kisses you.

He tastes like cigar smoke and whiskey, a blend that should be uncomfortable but is somehow pleasant. His tongue slips into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls you closer. By the time he finally pulls away for air, you're dizzy, flushed.

A kiss- almost as personal as a name.

You've never met a man who could make you feel like this- and certainly not without getting all your clothes off first.

His words snap you out of your breathless haze. "Let me touch you, baby." His voice is both a plea and a demand, and who are you to deny him such a request?

A simple nod is all it takes before his hands are on you, roving over your breasts with an appreciative groan. You can't help the way your hips rock against him, and one of his hands goes down to your ass, encouraging you to grind against him again. His other hand rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, while his mouth leaves sloppy kisses along your neck, down to your breasts.

You bury your face in his neck, breathing him in. His head comes up from your chest to whisper in your ear as he keeps your hips moving back and forth, his other hand alternating between your breasts. His skin muffles your moans, but you know he won't let you hide those pretty sounds from him forever. "You're so perfect." His words don't exactly do you any favors in the 'keeping your composure' department. "Sweet, pretty thing like you..." He nips at your earlobe, making you gasp softly. "You got no idea what you do to me."

Those words snap you back a little, remind you of your promise to take care of him. You raise your head up, leaning back a little to meet his eyes. "Then show me." Your hands reach down towards his belt, and this time, he doesn't stop you. Instead, his gaze roams over you as you unbuckle it, slowly pull it out of the loops of his pants, toss it aside, letting it join the other discarded articles littering the floor. You undo the buttons, then pull his pants down.

Even through his boxers, you can clearly see the outline of his aching hardness. You gently take him in your palm, running your hand along him through the fabric, watching the way his eyes flutter. Then you adjust yourself so you're grinding on him again, thin layers of clothing the only thing separating the two of you.

You go on like that for a little while, keeping track of every little sound he makes, every hitch of his breath and shudder that goes through his body. Then you lean back, pulling his boxers down, freeing his cock from the confines of his clothing.

Immediately, your mouth waters. He's huge, the biggest you've ever seen, and you find yourself wondering if you even can take him.

You push that thought aside for now, swiping your thumb across his tip, smiling to yourself at the groan that leaves him. You repeat the motion, letting precum gather on your fingers as you begin to move your hand up and down, up and down. You start slow, stroking him gently, then gradually increase your pace. Midway through, you grab a condom with your other hand, keeping eye contact as you open the wrapper with your teeth. You roll it onto him in one smooth motion, earning a startled grunt. His head falls back, his breaths coming unevenly, and it takes him a while before he can manage a coherent sentence.

"Fuck, you treat every guy like this?" Even with all the energy he can muster, the words are still a little short.

Your smile widens, and you lean in to press a kiss against the vein of his throat. "Only the good ones."

His mouth opens, as if to argue with the notion that he's anything good, but your ever-faster movements silence any protests that could have come from him.

You can tell he's getting close, and you slow down, letting him breathe a little slower as you whisper a soft question. "Where do you want me? You want my mouth, you want-"

Your words are cut off by his hand cupping your clothed mound, a gasp escaping you. "I want this." His voice is rough, and this time, it's not a plea. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as you unconsciously begin to move against his hand, chasing any friction he can give you. "I think it's a little unfair, seeing how I'm all out in the open and you've still got these," His thumb hooks in the waistband of your panties. "Separating me from you, hmm?

You don't even answer, just raise your hips up slightly so he can tug your lingerie down your legs until it falls and hits the floor. Immediately, his gaze lands on your exposed cunt. "Jesus, you're soaked." He murmurs, running his fingers through your slick. You whine as he brushes against your clit, and he chuckles. "Need me that bad, huh?"

"Need you." You whine. You can tell he wants to take it slow, to tease you, and by god do you want to let him- but you're impatient, your own teasing having riled you up too much to do anything but fuck him. Luckily, he picks up on your silent request, raising your hips to hover above his cock. His gaze searches yours, waiting for permission, and you nod. "Fuck me." You say softly, and it takes everything in him not to come completely fucking undone at that sweet tone of voice.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he lowers you down onto him. It burns, in a delicious way you've come to love in your years here. Even with the sheer amount of wetness coming from you, it's still a struggle to make him fit- but he does. When you've finally sank all the way down onto his cock, he lets you breathe for a moment. "You can take it, baby." He murmurs reassuringly- a support and a chance for you to back out. You close your eyes, breathing in and out, resting your face in the crook of his neck again.

Then you start to move.

It takes him by surprise, and you like the grunt that comes from him. For someone of his age, you're sure not much can catch him off guard anymore, so that makes it all the better when you lean back to see the look on his face. He catches your small smirk and returns it with one of his own, letting you move yourself up and down, over and over. Your pace slowly increases as the two of you adjust, and the room is soon filled with soft noises and the sound of flesh against flesh.

It's slow, almost sensual, but despite the circumstances that should have you turning this in another direction, you like it. You feel that familiar coil building in your stomach, your soft whimpers turning to moans now.

"You gonna come for me, baby?"

All you can do is nod, and he rocks his hips up into yours. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, until you can't think of anything else but him and how fucking good he's making you feel, how badly you need to come undone on his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" Your voice takes on a sharp pitch as he thrusts up into you, and your vision goes white for a moment as your orgasm hits you, unending bliss shaking your whole body. He rides out your orgasm for as long as he can, but the tight feeling of your cunt clenching around him soon sends him over the edge too. You can feel him twitching inside you, only prolonging the aftershocks of your own pleasure.

Eventually, you both come down. You're breathing heavily, trying to scramble together any semblance of thought. He stands suddenly, picking you up like you weigh nothing and setting you down on the chair. His cock slips out of you at some point during the process, leaving you feeling empty. You sit there for a moment before opening your eyes, finding him pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He meets your gaze with a hint of a fond smile, bending over to grab his tie.

You stand up to retrieve your own clothes, pulling them back on while he shoves his arms through the sleeves of his blazer and rifles through his pockets, eventually pulling out his wallet. "Um, how much do I owe you?"

He looks almost embarrassed, and you find it kind of adorable. You flash him a smile, saying words you never thought you'd dare to let pass your lips. "Nothing. It's on me."

Immediately, his eyebrow shoots up. "No, I can't... I can't let you do that, pretty girl."

You shake your head. "I insist. Nobody's ever fucked me like that, and certainly not any of my clients." You see the way your words boost his ego- good. He deserves it. "Besides, if you hadn't showed up, I'd have gone home anyway." You say nonchalantly, taking a few steps over to him. You reach up and put a finger to his lips before he can continue to argue. "It's on the house."

Although he still looks conflicted, he reluctantly nods. "Okay. Next time, then."

Next time.

You feel a thrill run through your body as he brings up the prospect of a next time, and your smile widens. "Next time." You affirm. You step back, letting him be on his way.

He moves towards the curtain, pausing before he goes. "See you around, sweetheart."

And just like that, he's gone.

But you don't miss him- because you know he'll be back.

So when you finally make it home and climb into bed after that warm shower, there's still a fond smile on your face as you drift off to sleep, dreaming of the weary stranger and his wonderful words.

[ybklix]

hidden lovers

★ pairing: idol bf!lee know x fem!reader

✦summary: Minho and you have this little game of dating in secret, but keep a completely opposite image for the rest of your friends.

♡ genre - warnings: smut, mean and soft dom minho, established relationship, enemies to lovers briefly written; fingering, mutual masturbation, edging, oral sex (f. rec.), cunnilingus, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names.

word count: 5k

╰ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ masterlist - taglist forms

୧ ‧₊˚request by anon₊ ˚⊹♡ secretly dating minho w enemy plot yesyes<3

a/n: i hope u liked it 🍮 mwahmwah, i think lino has a puddin in the pic lmao so cute

divider by enchanthings

It was pouring rain outside, it was one of those rainy summer days when you really missed your boyfriend, you wanted to be in his arms watching a movie or spying through his cell phone whatever he was doing. But he was busy, he couldn’t visit you so often because he spent hours at the company, he arrived exhausted at his apartment which he shares with three other colleagues and friends; plus it was that season when coincidentally the rest of his seven co-workers and best friends were more glued to him since it was when they were hard at work on their new album, so being so close to them, they usually tend to be insistent and ask in detail what he does outside of work and Minho, your boyfriend, could not risk them finding out that there is something between you.

So, amidst the heavy rain, your perfect signal fell with it; Han Jisung, your brother and one of Minho’s closest friends sent you a message, asking you for help with household activities in his apartment, blackmailing you while reminding you that he was the one giving you money, since he’s rich and an extremely important pop star and claiming that it was one of those days when they didn’t go to the company and Chan took the opportunity to put the rest of them to clean their respective apartments. You honestly didn’t think much of it, going to your brother’s apartment would mean you would see Minho one way or another, despite living in different apartments, you were pretty sure you would be able to see him.

You thought it was strange that Minho didn’t tell you that he didn’t go to work today, you thought he must have been busy ordering Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin to clean their rooms like little kids since it was your boyfriend who was in charge of the place. So anyway, you decided not to tell him and see him as a surprise; you dressed up perfectly, you haven’t seen him for days except through facetime and you really missed the closeness and smell of your man nearby.

You left your apartment and headed to the building of your older brother and his other almost older brothers, Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin and sighed as you passed through the wide hallway, the famous hallway reserved for the eight of them, only two doors on each side of the hallway, the place where they lived, you sighed, because you knew that Minho was probably in his apartment.

You knocked on the door, where a very confused Chan opened it for you, wearing comfortable clothes, with his curls and his face totally free of any traces of makeup.

“Oh, hi, Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming.”

His confused countenance gradually softened into a smile. He was confused as Han had authorized your entrance all the way to his door without previously letting anyone know you were coming.

“Yeah, well neither did I...”

“Come on in, we’re just cleaning up a bit.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s just what Han calls me for, apparently.”

You walked in and even Chan couldn’t help but watch you as you walked by, smelling your perfume and getting slightly lost in your bare legs through your short dress; which you were wearing only for, who they consider, your enemy.

“Agh, my dear sister who’s going to help me do the laundry and dishes, how good you look, have you eaten yet?” said in a fake and dramatic tone your brother, greeting you with an exaggerated expression of excitement and hugging you, which he never does and was just overacting and being funny.

“Fuck you, Han” you answered him as a joke, you were really there just to see Minho and you were starting to get desperate, you wanted to run into his arms and kiss his nose exactly where he had his little freckle.

Han changed his expression to an annoyed one as soon as he pulled away from you after his brief hug, “Hey, watch your mouth, I’m older remember. Also, why are you wearing so much perfume, are you wearing makeup?”

“I can’t believe you brought your sister all the way here just to help you” Chan interjected.

“Hey, Y/N, nice to see you” interrupted Hyunjin as he came out of his room and walked around the apartment.

“Hi” you replied sweetly smiling at Hyunjin.

“She came to see me, it’s obvious” you heard Changbin suddenly say, who came out of the laundry room, approaching Han and you.

Changbin winked at you and gently grabbed your waist, flirting and teasing you, making Hyunjin laugh. But Han didn’t find it the least bit funny so he opened his big round eyes in shock, raising his eyebrows, ready to exclaim in his typical voice:

“Ya, are you out of your mind? Get your dirty hands off my sister or I’ll kill you.”

Chan laughed at Han’s reaction, who was also joking, since he fully trusted each of his friends and knew that they were just playing around, he knew that none of the men he lived with every day would touch you and Han had a strict rule of not trying anything with you, since you were the closest to them, all the time living with them, a rule which they all respected since at least four of them also had sisters and understood the seriousness of the situation... however it wasn’t quite like that, Minho was the one who dared to touch you and would fuck you every day if only you could be together all the time and, for the rest, Minho was really the last option in the list of people who would even have anything to do with you, since for them, you two are enemies and hate each other. Plus Han would never agree to you dating any of his friends, you were strictly forbidden and he reminded them of that every chance he got.

Changbin let out a guilty chuckle and walked away from you.

“Well, I was assigned to do the dishes and laundry, please help me, my room is a mess, I’ll clean that up. I’ll buy you five Chanel bags, I promise, please” spoke your brother, you rolled your eyes and walked towards the kitchen without answering him.

Hours later, the night came and you finished without a problem, you handed the freshly washed clothes to each of them, you left the boys’ kitchen spotless and went a little frustrated to your brother’s room to see what he was doing, he had finished cleaning too, tiredly you sat on his bed, each time losing hope of spontaneously seeing your boyfriend and surprising him, so you thought about going to the bathroom to send him a message, saying you were there and that if he had the rest of the night he should spend it with you, making a little drama by reproaching him for not telling you he would have the day off, supposedly, since you knew he might be cleaning.

“I’m thinking of buying another piece of furniture and putting it in...” started to tell you Han, pointing to a part of his room but you decided not to pay attention at all,

And suddenly a voice, a sound so familiar that it filled every part of your body with excitement, you heard in the distance the typical whine of your boyfriend, followed by his manly voice in a soft whine saying, “Agh, are you guys done already? I really didn’t want to clean up today, why did you guys finish so soon?”

Han opened his eyes in surprise and looked at you with a bit of fear, he also recognized perfectly well that it was Minho.

“Is that Minho?” you asked suddenly, hiding every excited particle of your body, your heart pounding as if you were a young girl about to see her crush.

“Oh no… if you want, I’ll get him out of here before he sees you” Han replied and before you even thought how to stop him he was already leaving his room.

You quickly stood up and went after him.

“Ah, Hannie, let’s go get some dinner and let’s all eat it in my apart...” spoke Minho cheerfully as he saw his friend coming out of the hallway but he didn’t finish the sentence as his world stopped as he saw you coming out behind him.

And there he was, Lee Minho, looking as handsome as ever, in comfortable clothes and a bare face, his hair looking soft and shiny black. You had to contain your joy, feeling him so far away but so close at the same time; as did Minho, who held back with all his might a smile from his lips at the sight of you, instead, his expression tightened completely, furrowing his thick eyebrows, his thin lips pursed a little, his big eyes sharpened if that was possible, looking at you contemptuously and an irremediable tension for the rest of the guys formed in the atmosphere, they all looked at each other complicitly, amused and slightly worried, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Han, moving their eyeballs quickly as they noticed you and Minho were looking at each other.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” spat Minho annoyed.

His tone and demeanor gave you goosebumps, just as it made your pussy throb, it really turned you on to see him upset, he looked so hot, you ran your eyes along his bare arms with your gaze, you wanted his veiny hands on your neck but you had to maintain your sanity and be tough, acting your best role, as Minho’s enemy.

“Minho be nice...” Chan said softly.

“With... that-her, never. Oh, and I see why you guys finished early. That’s unfair, you have a fucking maid” said Minho again in annoyance.

“Minho...” your brother replied in his sternest tone and giving him a dirty look.

“Actually, let’s all eat at Minho’s, that sounds good” you finally spoke, walking and teasing your enemy.

“You can’t come into my apartment” Minho answered you, his eyes dark with desire as he saw how pretty you looked and it made him feel so good to know you were doing it for him.

You knew that look so well, so intimidating and wetting you in seconds; while for the rest it was a look of hatred and spite.

“I’m hungry, let’s eat” Changbin added, approaching you two and gently squeezing your forearms as he saw that you seemed to have a staring contest, “Come on, maybe you’re just mad because you’re hungry.”

The story of you and Minho really was funny, you truly used to be enemies and hated each other; Minho met you when you were younger, for him, back in his trainee years, and instantly thought of you as a spoiled brat who was given absolutely everything, your voice irritated him, the way you acted, everything. You both had such similar personalities that you just couldn’t manage to match each other... until years later, the big revelation fell on Minho with the intensity of a crash, he liked you, you were so cute all of sudden and he also suddenly fantasized about beating your ass to stopping you from being so badly behaved. Your start of romance was so fiery, as you were suddenly confused by his strange behavior, flirting with you while still being rude to you and, since then, a year ago that you’ve been dating. And you decided to hide it for obvious reasons; although Minho had already told you that he had no problem claiming you as his own, that he loved to possess you and have you as his girlfriend, he loved the intensity in which you loved him.

And now acting like enemies in front of everyone and lovers in secret between just you two, became such an exciting game you couldn’t stop, you lived for the mystery and the adrenaline of never getting caught, and when the guys started joking that ‘those who hate each other end up falling in love’ —literally your situation—, Minho would be really mean to you again, but he rewarded you so fucking well that you even forgot why he apologized. Sex after fake hard fights was always the best for you.

Changbin led everyone to Minho’s apartment, everyone without truly thinking about why they followed him and the rest of the people who lived with Minho were surprised at the timely arrival of the rest of his friends and you.

“Woah, what is this? What are you guys doing here?” you watched Jeongin say in surprise as he slowly lowered the cell phone from his face.

The three of them were sitting on the couch in the living room, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin, watching you enter with astonishment reflected on their faces.

“It looked pretty serious the way they all came in” Felix added smiling, “Hello, Y/n.”

“Yongbok don’t say hello to her or I’ll kick you out of the apartment” replied Minho quickly.

“What do you guys want for dinner?” spoke Chan.

“You’re not even invited to this house, plus I’m still not done with my chores” replied Minho directly to you, serious and a bit irritated.

“What you guys haven’t done yet? Let us help you so you can finish soon” spoke Chan kindly again.

“Minho hasn’t done anything, he just kept bossing around” Seungmin exposed him with a smile and pointing at him, causing a soft chuckle among his other two roommates.

“Kim Seungmin, count your days” Minho hissed.

“A whole pile of clothes to be folded is waiting for him in his room” Seungmin joked again.

“Shut up, Seungmin!” exclaimed your boyfriend.

“Y/n should go help him, it would be fun to see them not fighting for five seconds” commented Jeongin amused with his cocky tone and raising his eyebrows.

“Never, I’d rather burn your clothes” replied Minho.

“Yes yes, put them both in punishment” exclaimed Seungmin with a huge smile on his face.

“For all the nights they had their little fights every time we went out” Changbin continued the joke.

Hyunjin and Felix laughed, Han and Chan watched you both with amusement.

“There’s not going to be any more nights together because I’m going to kill every single one of you” mumbled your boyfriend.

You watched the scene, trying to be the strongest and hiding the immense urge you had to indeed see your boyfriend's room.

“No way” Chan lifted his shoulders, “You have to fulfill your duties...”

“Okay, okay, but who said I would agree to help him?” you spoke suddenly.

“Oh, yeah, you both have to go while we order food” Changbin sentenced, waking over to you to gently push you.

“Do it” you heard Han order you.

“Just because I seriously don’t want to fold all those clothes by myself...” whispered Minho.

You looked at him surprised, and with a face of indignation you followed him. But deep down you were just waiting for all the drama to be over and you could be alone with him.

“Wow, he really accepted her help” Hyunjin commented in amazement as he watched you walk to Minho’s room.

“Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin, I’ll cut your tongue out!” shouted Minho to which Hyunjin made a quick funny grimace in response.

“Try not to kill each other in there!” yelled Changbin.

You and Minho stood for a few moments near his door, looking at each other complicit and with your breathing heavy, so eager to be near each other; you watched him through the darkness of his room, diverting your gaze from his big bright eyes to the rest of his room with huge windows overlooking the city, his room was beautiful, after all he was part of a very important group and maintained his reputation by having a luxurious place to live in... and almost at one end of his bed, a pile of clothes waiting to be folded. There were few times that you had entered Minho’s room as privacy was very limited.

You were both waiting for the boys’ attention to be diverted elsewhere and, Minho recognizing and hearing that they finally managed to get distracted, he locked the door. Minho knew them so well and recognized perfectly when their attention was diverted to something new; their loud voices ceased softly as they were heard lower with his door closed and he without wasting any time, grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body to him.

You smiled broadly, once again with every particle of you excited to finally have him near.

“I missed you so much, baby, you look so good today” he spoke to you sweetly, leaning into you and kissing you.

You couldn’t answer him, your whole body went warm as you felt his lips on yours, you both missed each other madly and wanted each other immensely, so quickly the kiss became desperate and lustful, his sharp nose rubbing against your face, your hands wrapping around his neck and stroking his hair; Minho hugged you, leaving his hands on your back and slowly leading you to his bed.

As you bumped against the edge of his bed with your legs, he slowly let his body drop, making you fall onto his bed gently, both of you breathless, lewd with the temperatures of your excited bodies, Minho wanted to make you his now and you needed your boyfriend’s affection so bad that your weak pussy was so soaked and needy for his touch. Minho moved away from you a little, only to pull up your dress and reveal that you were only wearing your panties underneath it, you noticed his disapproving look, still he said sweetly:

“Settle in, princess, make yourself comfortable, so I can touch you better.”

You stirred a little, getting comfortable with his pillows on your back and Minho kissed you again, positioning his body over yours, sticking to you to the point of feeling his swollen hard erection rubbing against your sensitive center, he was kissing you so passionately, getting even for all the nights he had to spend it alone, when he had you as his girlfriend and he was partly able to come and see you, you taking care of him so well. You moaned softly as you felt his cock grinding into your pussy and, Minho being himself, he began to gently ram into you, rubbing and squeezing his member into your needy area, rubbing against your clit, causing you to lubricate yourself more and every muscle in your pussy to throb hungrily for your boyfriend’s cock.

Your groans were held between his lips, but Minho was fucking you slowly and torturously, moving his nimble hips against your pussy, leaving you so wet.

You both caught your breath, Minho watched your face slightly illuminated by the night’s exterior reflected in the window. You gasped, still watching him lovingly, placing your hands on his cheeks.

“I missed you too, Minho.”

“I know, sweetheart, sorry I was busy” gasped Minho breathlessly, enjoying his cock being compressed against the friction of the fabric of your panties on your pussy.

He moved his hand down to your pussy finally, pushing the fabric of your panties aside, reaching down to your entrance and smiling smugly as he noticed how incredibly wet you were. Minho bit his lip and inserted two fingers deep into you, making you moan and the sound of his fingers immersing between your lubed cunt.

“I want to fuck you so bad, princess, c'mon, ask for it, kitten. I loove to hear you beg, you know that, don’t you?”

“Ahh, mmm, M-minho, p-please” you sighed excitedly, his fingers were tickling a sweet spot in you.

You wiggled your ass gently, aroused to have your boyfriend’s fingers working on your sensitive vagina and exploring your insides, as you reached for the hem of his shirt, gently lifting his simple white t-shirt, stroking his abs; Minho smirked again smugly and abruptly slid his fingers out of you.

“You want to touch me too, don’t you, kitten?”

Minho drew a half smile on his face to which you only nodded in a trance, completely lost in the incredibly hot and sexy atmosphere created between you and your boyfriend. He hurried, taking off his shirt and quickly pulling down his shorts and boxers, exposing his very well erect cock, you could appreciate how needy he was too, detonating his veins and his pink tip covered by shiny white precum. You almost sighed, wanting to have fun in so many ways with your boyfriend’s cock, so almost reflexively you directed your hands towards his member, stroking it to feel its stiffness, causing sweet gasps to escape from Minho’s lips, you looked at him, in his face captured pure pleasure, so you wanted to get up, change positions and suck his cock, but he stopped you instantly, also almost reflexively.

“Ah, ah” spoke your boyfriend in disapproval, pushing you off your shoulder, “Be a good girl and do whatever I say and want, okay?”

Minho darkened his gaze more and said it in a tone so intense and demanding but being gentle with you that it made your body tremble in excitement, you bit your lip and nodded.

“Now, stroke my cock and cum in my fingers like a good princess” he spoke again, his dirty words made you throb again, “But... let me see a little bit your pretty body...” Minho licked his lips and abruptly sought a way to pull the straps of your dress to expose your chest, “You always look so good, baby” Minho let his gaze linger on your bare breasts and then came closer and kissed you again.

You were so distracted, blinded by the incredible pleasure built up in your body, busy with your mouths joined, your hands in stroking up and down his cock and, as soon as you felt again the tickle of his fingers touching your pussy, your hairs stood on end; Minho without stopping kissing you, inserted in your entrance three of his fingers, making you gasp at the sensation of your entrance stretching. He moved his kisses down, down your neck, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin, until his mouth reached your breasts, licking them, sucking them and biting your nipple, while his hand on your pussy fucked you and his thumb caressed your clit, getting his hand and the thin fabric of your panties you were still wearing wetter and wetter.

“We need to discuss later why you only came in that tiny dress, in panties and no bra, to an apartment full of men, you’re such a very bad kitty, you need a little punishment, but you feel so good right now, I wanna make you cum” Minho said, exasperated and excited in your ear.

He was so aroused too, desperate for an orgasm as he felt your hands skilfully but a little clumsily touching all over his length, stroking his glans, his testicles, feeling every inch of him, which dick you were internally screaming for by wanting such a member to be in you right now, but you couldn’t deny it, you loved the way your boyfriend liked to play and entertain your pussy, ramming it with his fingers and crushing and stroking your needy, throbbing clit. Minho gasped loudly, so close to his orgasm whose he took the decision of delaying it himself, he wanted every drop of his cum inside you, so runny and thick drops of his precum fell on your bare abdomen; his cock was so swollen and throbbing and you felt it in your hands that, in a whimper you practically begged him:

“M-minho please fuck me, I need you.”

Minho smiled.

“Then cum to your first orgasm in my hand, sweetie, you can do it.”

He, being pushed to the limit by your caresses on his cock, sped up his movements in your cunt, desperately fitting his fingers deep inside you, enjoying your walls in his digits, the softness of your throbbing clit on his fingertip. You whimpered loudly, staring into his eyes, arched your back, so ready for your orgasm, every muscle in you squeezed with intensity.

“Are you about to cum, kitten? Do it now, come on.”

“Oh, ffuck” you squealed with a shaky voice, catching one last glimpse of Minho’s handsome face with a smug little smile, before your vision blurred and you rolled your eyes slightly back.

Your legs tensed, you squeezed his cock slightly tighter, only to release yourself in orgasm, squirting into his hand, just as he desired.

“Good girl” Minho commented smiling.

He withdrew his fingers and in one swift movement, slipped your panties off and without warning of anything, brought his face up to your pussy, licking your sweet liquid sliding down your hole. You moaned at the sensation of his thick hot tongue, of his lips sticking to your pussy to slurp hard from your entrance to your labia, feeling his high bridge nose rubbing against your core, Minho left his hands on your thighs and began to eat your pussy, raising his piercing gaze, watching with joy your body struggle with your heavy breathing.

This time you enjoyed every movement of his mouth on your pussy, his kisses, his soft bites, the intense sucking and licking; you were in paradise, his pace was hot and slow, little by little speeding up the way he ate your pussy, Minho was enjoying it too, getting harder on his dick, causing a little pain to his erect cock hanging in the air, in need of attention, screaming to cum, but the slight pain was turning him on more, he loved pushing himself to the limit, making you enjoy only you as you deserve it, besides he had this idea or theory, that he didn’t deserve to cum as he wasn’t being the best boyfriend these last days, he missed you and felt guilty for not being able to come to see you, and that you had to be the one who was looking for him.

Minho again sensed your orgasm so close, your gasps rose, honestly the noise didn’t bother him, the walls were thick and his friends were being ten times louder in the living room of the apartment. So he suddenly stopped having his mouth on your pussy, roughly wiped his face with his dry hand and got closer to your face.

“Don’t cum yet, princess, I need to fuck you now” he whispered, giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek.

You saw him in confusion, you couldn’t even groan because you instantly realized that you were finally going to have his cock inside you.

Minho repositioned himself again, took his member and began to tease your wet and needy entrance, stroking his glans into it, sliding it in so gently and just enough to get your hole dilated, but he would pull it out again. You whimpered with excitement and desperation as you perfectly recognized the game your boyfriend was playing.

“You want it don’t you?” he said amused with his typical smug smile as he saw your needy body and countenance, your pussy made a beautiful mess, your length so shiny from your wetness and his licking, your entrance resenting his tip inside you, “So needy for my cock.”

You whimpered, his broad tip slipped out of you and this time he grind your labia with his erection, rubbing himself on them.

“Y-yes, Minho, please, please, please.”

“Only because I’m the best boyfriend” he replied haughtily.

Minho slowly slid his cock inside you, you gasped, he was big and wide, squeezing your walls hard and stretching your entrance. He sighed, almost feeling a relief as he felt his cock around your warm core, he pulled his body closer to yours, wanting to feel your body touching his; he was so deep inside you that he almost took your breath away, still, he began to thrust you slowly, never leaving his depth and intensity, moving his hips to take you to the limit, caressing your cervix, and his balls rubbing against your exposed pussy. You tightened your legs and encircled his body, while your hands rested on his strong back, you both began to pant, his slow deep thrusts heating your lower abdomen, torturing you but sending you to heaven itself at the same time. Minho kept a pace that only he knew how made you go crazy, slow, then he accelerated fast, pounding you hard. You dug your nails into his back, you were so close to your orgasm; Minho sped up the movements of his cock in you, but as he felt your walls squeezing his member hard, he couldn’t take it, he gasped loudly in your ear and ejaculated, milking him dry every drop of his cum in an intense orgasm. You felt his cum instantly, your legs also squeezed his body tighter and you whimpered loudly, cumming again and covering your boyfriend’s cock in your so intense orgasm.

Minho left his head on your neck for a few seconds, then distanced himself and watched your pussy image after the action.

“So sweet and all mine” Minho said, looking down at his cock sliding out of your core, dripping the glorious orgasm of both of you in a glistening liquid; he moved closer to you again, to give you a sweet kiss, your mouth was dry, from moaning and breathing by it, but quickly Minho’s soft lips ceased any sensation, “I love you” he whispered into your lips, bringing your foreheads together.

You smiled, about to answer him something cheesy, but Minho’s doorknob turning sharply and banging on his door alerted you a little.

“Dinner’s ready, why is the door locked?” you heard Seungmin’s voice shout from the other side.

“Linoo” you now heard Changbin’s voice shout, “Are you okay?! He must be dead already.”

Minho sighed in frustration, “These idiots...” he muttered, catching his breath near your face.

—————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89

[kiss4tell]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒, john price.

summary: john has spent years feeling like his desirability has faded with age, but when his daughter’s best friend starts making subtle advances, he finds himself unable to resist the temptation. cw: age gap, taboo relationship, unprotected sex, mild dirty talk, praise, porn with slight plot. g!n reader, female anatomy. wc: 2.3k note: i was inspired by the song 'colors' by halsey. those who get it, get it.

John isn’t old—not really. But some days, he feels it.

It’s in the way his knees ache when he stands too quickly. The gray creeping into his beard, a little more stubborn each year. The way people call him sir now, not out of respect, but because he looks like he belongs to another time.

He’s never minded getting older, never cared for vanity, but something about it feels heavier lately. Maybe it’s because his daughter—his little girl—isn’t so little anymore. She’s in college now, fully grown, filling the house with stories of her own life that no longer revolve around him.

He listens, nods in the right places, but he knows he’s fading into the background. A spectator to youth, no longer a part of it.

And then, there’s you.

You, her best friend. You, always at his house, curled up on his couch, laughing at things he doesn’t quite understand. You, in little shorts that ride up your thighs, oversized sweaters slipping off your shoulders, bare legs tucked beneath you as you steal glances at him over the rim of your glass.

At first, he thinks he’s imagining it. The way your gaze lingers when he walks past. The way you stretch, slow and deliberate, when you know he’s looking. The way your lips curl around the edge of your spoon when you eat ice cream straight from the carton.

Subtle things. Nothing he can call out without sounding mad.

But then there are the other things. The way you compliment him too much—that sweater looks good on you, Mr. Price… The way your touches linger, fingers brushing over his when you pass him a drink. The way your lips part just slightly when he speaks, like you’re hanging on every word.

He tells himself he’s imagining it, because the alternative is dangerous.

But tonight, he knows.

The house is quiet, his daughter out for the evening. You shouldn’t be here, not really, but you’d dropped by to return a book, your usual excuse. And now, you’re standing in his kitchen, wearing something too small, too sheer, something that tells him you knew exactly what you were doing when you came over.

“You don’t have to rush off,” he says, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t give you a reason to stay.

But you smile, slow and knowing, like you were waiting for him to ask.

The tension between you stretches thin, tighter with each passing second. You close the distance first, stepping into his space, tilting your head up to look at him. He can smell your perfume—sweet, warm, something that makes his pulse slow and heavy.

“You always act so polite,” you murmur, eyes flickering over his face. “But I think you like when I test you.”

His jaw tenses. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

You hum, fingers lifting to graze the collar of his shirt, featherlight. “I think I do.”

He exhales sharply, hands bracing against the counter behind him. He shouldn’t touch you. Shouldn’t let you get this close. But your fingers slide higher, brushing along the thick column of his throat, tracing the edge of his beard.

“Been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?” you ask, breath warm against his cheek.

Christ. You’re shameless. And worse—he wants to give in.

His resolve crumbles when you press onto the balls of your feet, lips barely brushing his. A silent invitation. A challenge.

He grips your waist, not gentle, not hesitant, pulling you flush against him. A sharp inhale, a second’s hesitation—then his lips crash into yours, swallowing whatever taunt you were about to whisper next.

You melt against him, fingers twisting into his shirt, pulling him closer like you’ve wanted this just as badly. He groans into your mouth, deep and needy, his beard rough against your soft skin as his hands tighten, feeling the warmth of your body beneath his palms.

It’s been a long time since he’s let himself take something. And fuck, you’re making it impossible to stop now.

You gasp against his lips, a sweet little sound that shoots straight through him, sending all the blood in his body rushing south. His cock, already straining uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans, presses hard against your belly, and he swears under his breath.

“You—” he starts, voice rough, but the words die in his throat when your hand slides between you, palming him through his jeans. A sharp hiss slips past his teeth. “—fuck. You’ve got no idea what you do to me, love.”

The endearment hangs heavy between you, thick with meaning, and the way your breath hitches tells him you felt it, too. You pull back just enough to meet his gaze through your lashes, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“…I think I know exactly what I do to you,” you murmur, voice dripping with sweet, teasing sin.

His control snaps.

In one swift motion, he spins you, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting you onto the kitchen counter with effortless strength. You let out a soft, breathless laugh, hands clutching at his shoulders as he steps between your legs, settling his hips flush against yours.

“You’re a fuckin’ menace,” he growls, the words half-admiring, half-accusing, but his smirk betrays him. His hands slide up the heated skin of your thighs, thumbs pressing into soft flesh before gliding higher, slipping beneath the hem of your tank top.

When he pushes it up, his breath stutters.

Pastel pink lace. A delicate little bow in the center, nestled between the swell of your breasts. Fucking hell.

“For me?” he murmurs, voice lower now, rougher, as he dips his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, until he reaches the sensitive spot at the curve of your shoulder.

You hum in affirmation, fingers threading into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He shudders at the feeling, at the way your hips shift, restless against his, seeking more.

His hands find the hem of your tiny little shorts, fingers hooking beneath the fabric with a quiet grunt. He gives them a sharp tug, impatience written in every movement.

“Hips,” he orders, voice thick, edged with need.

You obey without hesitation, lifting them eagerly, breath catching as he drags the fabric down your legs in one rough motion before tossing them to the floor. He’s barely paying attention to them now—no, his focus is locked entirely on you, on the delicate scrap of lace still clinging to your hips.

His pupils darken, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he takes in the sight of you, all wrapped up in soft, sheer fabric, the matching set he’s certain you wore just for him.

“Christ,” he mutters, running his hands up your thighs, fingers pressing possessively into warm skin. “You just had to be a fuckin’ tease, didn’t you?”

You smirk, shifting slightly on the counter, letting your legs spread just a little wider, an unspoken invitation. His jaw tightens, eyes flicking back up to yours, searching for something—permission, maybe, or control he knows he’s already lost.

A low curse rumbles in his chest as his hands move to his belt, unbuckling it with a practiced ease. The soft clink of metal echoes through the kitchen, followed by the slow, deliberate unzipping of his jeans. He shoves them down just enough, boxers sliding with them to mid-thigh, freeing his cock—heavy, hard, already leaking at the tip.

Your breath hitches, eyes flickering downward, but before you can say anything, he’s already moving. One hand gripping your hip, the other curling around the damp fabric of your panties.

“They’re too pretty to take off,” he murmurs, voice dark with something almost reverent as he tugs them to the side, exposing the wet heat of you. His cock twitches at the sight, at the way you shiver under his touch, at the way you’re already so fucking ready for him.

“Gonna ruin you just like this,” he breathes, lining himself up, dragging his thick head through your slick folds, teasing, testing. His forehead presses to yours, eyes heavy-lidded, dark with hunger.

“You want it, don’t you?” he rasps, nudging just barely at your entrance, enough to make you gasp. “Say it.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself against the solid warmth of him. His forehead stays pressed to yours, his breath hot, unsteady, as he keeps himself poised right at your entrance, refusing to move until you give him what he wants.

“Say it,” he murmurs again, voice deeper now, rougher. His cock throbs against you, thick and heavy, the head catching just enough to make your thighs twitch.

“Please,” you whisper, the word barely a breath.

His lips part, something dark and satisfied flashing across his face before he finally pushes forward, sinking into you with one slow, aching thrust. Your mouth falls open, a sharp inhale catching in your throat as he stretches you, your body molding around him, taking him in inch by inch.

“Fuck—” he exhales, his grip on your hips tightening, fingers digging into soft flesh. “That’s it… take it, love.”

His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you flutter around him, the way your nails press into his shoulders, clinging to him as if you’d fall apart otherwise. The fabric of your panties, still pushed to the side, rubs against the base of his cock with every movement, a delicious friction that makes his head spin.

“God, you feel so good,” he mutters, his lips brushing along your jaw, nipping at the delicate skin beneath your ear. “So fuckin’ tight around me.”

A broken moan escapes you, your hips rolling up to meet his, desperate for more. He grins against your skin, hands sliding up your waist before gripping beneath your thighs, angling you just right.

Then he moves—slow, deep strokes that have you gasping his name, your body trembling against his.

“That’s it,” he groans, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, how your lips part, how your eyes flutter shut. His own restraint is fraying, unraveling with every needy little sound you make. “Been thinkin’ about this, haven’t you? Been wantin’ me to fuck you just like this.”

You nod frantically, unable to form words, nails raking down his arms, your body burning beneath his.

He chuckles, voice laced with something dark, something utterly wrecked.

“Yeah,” he rasps, thrusting into you harder, deeper, his forehead pressing to yours once more. “Me too.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your belly as his hips snap against yours, slow and deliberate, dragging every inch of himself from your soaked cunt only to sink back in, stretching you all over again

Your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white, nails digging into the muscle beneath. He groans at the sting, at the way your body clenches around him like you never want to let him go.

"Fuckin' hell, love," he breathes against your lips, swallowing your moans as he kisses you, messy and consuming. "Look at you… takin’ me so damn well."

The words make your walls flutter, make him grunt as he buries himself to the hilt, keeping you pinned between the warmth of his body and the cool kitchen counter. Your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs, urging him deeper, harder, until you're nothing but gasps and desperate little sounds against his mouth.

His breath is ragged, his control slipping as he watches the way your body moves with his, the way your fingers tug at his hair, dragging him closer, as if you need him pressed into you, as if you want him to consume you whole.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, his voice raw. His grip on your waist tightens, his strokes turning more forceful, his cock hitting that devastating spot that has your back arching, a strangled moan falling from your lips.

"John—" His name breaks apart on your tongue.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmurs, forehead pressing to yours, sweat clinging to his brow. "I know—"

His hand snakes between your bodies, fingers pressing against the swollen bundle of nerves between your thighs, rubbing slow, tight circles. The pleasure spikes instantly, your body tensing, toes curling, the coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight.

"Come on, love," he encourages, voice rough, desperate. "Let me feel you. Let me have you."

Your breath shudders, your body bowing against his, and then you’re falling—pleasure ripping through you in waves, blinding and all-consuming. You clench around him, your walls milking him, dragging him to the edge with you.

"That's it—fuck—" His rhythm falters, his grip on you bruising as he thrusts deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he spills into you with a ragged groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he rides out the high.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your heavy breathing, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background, the warmth of his body pressing you down into the counter. His hands, rough and calloused, smooth over your trembling thighs, grounding you, keeping you there.

He exhales a quiet laugh against your skin, pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone. "Christ, sweetheart," he mutters, voice spent, a little hoarse. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

You hum in amusement, fingers dragging idly through his damp hair. "Guess I should start making funeral arrangements, then."

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he pulls back just enough to look at you. His eyes are still dark, still hazy with what just transpired, but there’s something softer there, too. Something that makes your stomach flutter all over again.

His fingers ghost over your cheek before trailing down your body, adjusting your panties back into place with a satisfied smirk.

"You," he murmurs, brushing his lips over yours, "are trouble."

[letorip]

kiss with a fist

“you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: tara needs a favour from perhaps the person she hates most on earth, but it just ends up drawing the both of you closer together.

warnings: explicit sexual content, fake dating 🤯, enemies to lovers, contrived plot because ha ha ha

word count: 4.8k

A/N: kinda had a lot of fun with this one. might do a part two, might just leave it as is, but let me know. inspired by kiss with a fist by florence + the machine (duh), lovely night from la la land, and various other inspirations.

===+++===

===+++===

The moment your front door opened on its hinges, Tara Carpenter was pushing past you and barging straight into your apartment, stepping right over the threshold and checking you with her shoulder. You barely had a chance to process it, before she had wandered down the hall and into your kitchen in a blur.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you were in for an annoying ass conversation and slamming the door shut. “What do you want?” You called into your own apartment loud enough for her to hear you in the other room.

“Don’t be a prick about it. This is the last place I wanted to go,” she shot back, and you sighed to yourself in your dark hallway before fixing your hair in the mirror and following her inside. There was only about an hour of her bullshit you could put up with and then you’d be saved by the bell anyhow.

“Whatever happened to ‘hello,’ Tara?” You said, crossing your arms and coming in to against the doorframe. She had jumped up onto your counter, legs swinging and fingers gripping the edge of the blue ice glass tiles. In her left hand she picked up the bottle of wine you had left out next to some glasses and began to read the label.

"Lecture me later,” she said, not looking up at you, You were about to reply, or more aptly, tell her to get the hell out of your apartment, but she put the bottle down and narrowed her eyes at you, clearly struggling to say what she was really there for.

“Look, (Y/n), I need your help.” Ah. There it was.

"Hah," you scoffed without hesitation. "No."

She threw up her hands. "I didn’t even say what I was asking for.”

“Still, no. I’m not helping you.”

“Could you just not be an asshat for five minutes and listen to me? Like, is that too hard for you? Are you medically incapable?" She shot back.

"You're sitting on my counter. I didn't bust into your house and start making demands but here you are in mine,” you said.

"I'm asking for a favour," said Tara, raising her voice. "Asking."

"Wasn't much of a question though, was it," you replied. Maybe being a dick back to her would make her leave. She had always been able to dish it but never able to take it, and you wanted to make her. "You said 'I need a favour.' There's no question in that."

"No, I actually said I need your help, now would you shut up and listen?"

You scowled. "Y'know, I'm not really in a helpful mood tonight."

"Like you have something better to do,” Tara scoffed, raising her eyebrows at you.

"And what if I do?"

"Then I'd say you're lying. What, you don’t want to help me because you’re watching your stupid show, or reading or something?” she challenged back, getting up off your counter and walking towards you. You straightened up, glaring down at her. She only came up to about your chest, but the short girl still did her best to seem intimidating.

With you she always frustratingly failed to even make the smallest dent, though that probably stemmed from the fact you could pick her up and punt her like a football if you wanted to. On the days she managed to really piss you off, the thought grew more enticing.

"For your information, I was supposed to have a date," you said. Tara blinked at this, looking down from your stupid face. You wore a thick black turtleneck and some pleated black pants that hung stylishly from your waist. The wine made sense now, and Tara felt like an idiot.

“What’d you pay them?” she clapped back, covering for the feeling of intense heat rising to her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had come begging for your help of all people- you, and now she had nothing to show for it but the stupid, smug look on your stupid, smug face.

“Ha ha,” you said, dryly. “Get out.”

“No.”

“Yes,” you insisted.

"So you're busy then…” she trailed off.

“Yes.”

“Nooo,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the pout of her lip or the shining of her eyes, but you shut your own for a second and let out a sigh. "Why? What's the favour?"

Tara shook her head in a generally amusing display of defeat. "It's whatever. Have fun on your date," she said, heading for the door and trying to brush past you, but you reached your arm across the doorway, stopping her from going.

"No, what's-" you stopped, rolling your eyes upon realising you were about to help Tara Carpenter of all people- "What's the favour, Tara?" Her face instantly lit up with a bright, beaming smile, the exact opposite of what it had been before, and it suddenly occurred to you she had been playing you like a fiddle.

"Oh my god, you're actually helping for once! Did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed?”

"Don't push it," you muttered. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, yet."

"See, about that..." she trailed off.

"What.”

“We have to make Sam really, really mad.”

"What?”

"Yeah..."

You shook your head at her. "Never mind. I'm not helping you anymore."

"What!?"

"You're trying to get me murdered," you said. "I don't have a death wish."

Tara was fully frustrated now, dark eyes fiery and staring up at you in the candle lighting. “You don’t even know what it is you’re doing to make her mad yet!”

“Doesn’t matter, if it’s Sam I don’t want to do it.”

“It would be a big help!” Tara said, clasping her hands in front of her like a prayer. You narrowed your eyes at her, more upset her expression and clear desperation was actually working on you, and that you felt compelled to help this idiot with an undoubtedly idiotic plan.

“What are you trying to do?”

Tara jumped up and down in excitement, smiling widely in a way you had rarely seen her. “Okay! Okay, so Sam said last month that she didn’t want me going to parties and meeting people because she was worried they were murderers.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Buuut, she said I could go if I had someone always with me. Like, someone with me that she approved of. So I didn’t wander off to hook up or drink, which is, y’know, the actual fun ‘college party’ stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

“The thing is though, that if I had a ‘partner,’” she raised her fingers to put quotes around it, “then Sam wouldn’t need to worry about me doing that, because she’d assume I’d be with them, hanging out, or even if we did go to a party, it would be together. Buddy system style.”

You raised your eyebrows, realising where this was probably going. “Uh huh?”

“Which is where you’d come in. Sam wouldn’t trust just anybody, if I told her I was seeing someone. But she would trust someone from our group, who she knows for sure isn’t going to murder me. And you- as fucking annoying as you are- are exactly that.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she explained it to you, and you realised Tara had probably been plotting this- or at least considering it- for a while now, the little devil.

“You really expect Sam to believe we can tolerate each other?” You asked, squeezing your arms tighter against your chest. “She knows how much I hate you, and only person I hate more is her.”

“Trust me, I’ve complained about you to her too,” she rolled her eyes. “But you were literally my only option. Call it a romance of passion. We only ‘hated’ other to cover up for our real feelings or whatever. Sam doesn’t have to like you but she definitely trusts you.”

“How romantic,” you wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the suggestion. “Wait, why am I your only option? Chad is right there, he’s already in love with you and everything. He’s like the built-in boyfriend.”

She winced. “See, I thought about that. But I just know it would probably hurt him, with the hooking up and it not being real. He probably wouldn’t feel too great about me ‘cheating’ on him.” Tara did the finger quotes around it again and you let out a whistle.

“Wow, so you do have a heart.”

She scoffed. “More than you do. Besides, we only need to pretend to be together until I find someone actually tolerable. After that, you’re free again.”

“I had a date tonight,” you narrowed your eyes at her.

“But you’re still here talking to me for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “And the way you said ‘had’ I’m thinking you don’t anymore.” Tara could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. She always seemed to zero in on the way you spoke or what you said.

“I wasn’t too excited for it anyways,” you grumbled, and Tara laughed, realising she had been correct and being all too pleased with herself. She clasped her hands together.

“Well then. Are you going to help me, or are you going to glare at me some more?”

“The second one sounds really appealing right now,” you shot back.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be too proud of an asshole to admit this is a great plan.”

“It’s a terrible plan, and it’s absolutely going to fail when Sam tries to murder me.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

You looked at her for a long minute, contemplating if this was really the path you were going to go down. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I’ll do it. But you’ll sure as hell owe me.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tara waved you off, beaming from ear to ear. “Great! We’re going on a double date with her and Danny this Friday.”

“What?!” Your mouth dropped open.

“Yep,” she said, annoyingly skipping down your hallway. “I’ll text you the address and time!” she said.

“Now wait a minute-” you called after her, but she had already latched open your door and left, leaving you to watch her go. Fuck, this would end terribly. You sighed again, taking out your phone to cancel your date.

===+++===

This was so unbelievably stupid. The longer you stood outside the Italian restaurant, the more you regretted agreeing to help her.

The restaurant was nice at least, with giant marble stones and dark red accents, and you could see through the massive float glass windows that the lighting mostly featured romantic candles and potted floribunda roses against dark wood. It would ironically be the most expensive date you ever had, and you realised that with bitter sentimentality.

Tara was late, like always, and you had begun to pace along the sidewalk, tracing the cracks with the centre of your shoe while you waited for her. It was boring, out on the street, and the more couples that passed you and walked right inside, the more nauseous you felt. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, thumbing over the cracked display.

She was ten minutes late. You swiped open your text messages, still seeing nothing from her.

are you here yet???

You sent the message hastily, waiting for the typing icon to pop up or even show that she read it, but nothing. Suddenly the screen lit up and your phone started vibrating it, and you almost dropped it in surprise. “Fuck,” you cussed quietly, seeing the call incoming screen and Little Shit (do not pick up) appear at the top. You frowned, hitting the green button and accepting the call.

“Where the hell are you??? I don’t know if you noticed but we’re late,” you immediately said into the phone, aware of just how annoyed you sounded.

“Relax,” replied Tara on the other end of the line, and you could hear her eye roll from here. “Danny is a late guy too, Sam gets on him all the time for it.”

“Yeah well, I’m standing outside waiting for your late ass.” You felt someone awkwardly push past you and you winced, spinning around to usher them an apology.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I had to pick something up,” she dismissed you. “Just don’t let Sam and Danny see you. I told them we were showing up together.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that?” You frowned, looking around. There was a row of bushes off to the side but you were too tall and not at all willing to crouch behind them like an idiot.

“I don’t know. Figure. It. Out.” Tara spoke slowly like you were a child and you narrowed your eyes.

“Y’know, I’m doing you a favour?”

“Ha!” Tara exclaimed, and you hissed, pulling your ear away from the phone’s speaker at the loud noise. “So you admit, it was a favour!”

“Shut up and get your ass over here," you grumbled before hanging up shortly, looking around and wandering down a side alley. It smelled disgusting back there, in the ironic, almost-dark of sunset, and it would've been a lovely night to take a walk on, had it not been for wasting it on Tara of all people.

You pulled out a box of cigarettes from your pocket, fumbling one out and sticking it between your lips. You stuck the box back in your pocket and pulled out your fancy lighter that had your name engraved on the side, thumbing over the lettering for a moment before lighting the cigarette and sticking it between your two fingers.

It felt stupid, to standing there next to the dumpster and watching some rats scurry by, but you let out a huff of smoke, remembering how much Tara had seemed excited for the parties and having fun. You didn't like her very much, nor could you really claim to be much of a saint, but you weren't a monster either.

"What are you doing??" called a voice from the end of the alley, and you spun to see Tara near the line of bushes with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She had her eyes narrowed at the cigarette, looking frustrated.

"Having a smoke. Why, want one?"

She let out a sigh of exasperation, marching straight up to you. "You can't go on a double date with my sister smelling like cigarette smoke. You know she hates that kind of stuff."

"I've smoked with her, before. Her and Mindy," you argued, pulling it from your lips to take a breath in. "I've literally given her cigarettes."

Tara glared at you, taking it from your hand and crushing it under her heel. "Yeah, well, she still hates you, and now that we're allegedly 'dating' it's different. We can't give her any reason not to trust us, and you smoking cigarettes is going to make her think I'm going to start smoking cigarettes."

You shrugged. "If she hates me so much, then she's never gonna let us 'hang out' alone or go to parties anyway."

"No, she-" Tara rolled her eyes. "She hates you, but she sure as hell trusts you. Enough to babysit me."

"Fine. What's with the flowers?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"You got them for me," Tara shrugged. "Pinnacle of romance."

You whistled to be funny, but it was a little bit impressive that she had planned that out. The plan wasn't especially well thought out, but she at least had her moments of surprising intelligence, which you couldn't begrudge her.

"Well then," she frowned. "Let's go, lover." She clutched the flowers in one hand and slid her arm to interlock with yours. You narrowed your eyes but started to walk her in.

"Don't call me that. It's weird," you muttered.

"Get used to it. Tonight we're the happiest couple on planet Earth."

The restaurant was somehow even nicer on the inside than it had been on the outside. Tara gripped your hand, tugging you along with her as she headed towards Sam and Danny's table and followed the waiter, but you were looking a little dumbfounded at the marble columns and Italian frescos painted to the walls and roof.

You made your way back, led into a giant room with a lot of people. Danny sent you a welcoming wave when they saw you; Sam looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket. She stared at you, eyeing you up and down and then lasering in on the bouquet in Tara's hands with a frown.

"Did you tell her your secret partner was me???" you whispered to Tara as you approached.

She smirked evilly. "Nope."

Fucking amazing. "Hey guys!" Danny said, friendly and open. He seemed just thrilled to be there, while Sam seethed right next to him. Tara smiled right at her sister, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

"Sorry we were late," Tara says, a little awkward but trying to seem comfortable. "We were, um..." she looked at you for help.

You blanked, throwing out the first thing you could think of. "Kissing!"

Sam nearly spit out her water, eyes widening at staring at you. Tara whipped to you, jaw slack and you sent her a sorry glance. Improv was not your thing by any means.

"Um," Danny blinked at you. "No worries. You're here now," he said with an awkward smile. His hand went to Sam's, trying to give it a comforting squeeze, but she looked like she wanted to jump over the table and then jump you. She was glowering.

"So," she said, eyes narrowed. "How long has 'this,'" she gestured between you and Tara, "been a thing?" She looked at you intensely, and you looked to Tara, trying to shrug it off. You both laughed, playing the part of the happy couple.

"Oh, a month," you said.

"Two months," Tara said, at the exact same time. Fuck.

You tried not to glare at each other. "Well, which is it?" Sam squinted at her sister, and Tara sent a kick at your leg under the table. Your knee hit the bottom of the table with a painful 'thud,' and it took everything in you to not yell out in pain from your knee cap hitting the wood.

You tried to smile it off. "Tara just said two months, because we went on a few study dates, but it wasn't official until a month ago."

"So two months then," Sam said, crossing her arms on the table.

"I get it," Danny said, nodding. "I'm bad at dates and stuff too," he laughed a bit. "I almost forgot how long Sam and I had been together after our four month anniversary." You nodded, sending him your best grin. Sam didn’t look too happy about that either, though.

"Yeah, long day, I guess." Tara said next to you, sending you her best smile, her hand coming up to rub your back. It was weird, having her this close, but you put on your best face, as if she touched you all the time.

"You go to Blackmore too, right?" he asked, and you nodded. "What do you study?"

"I'm in architecture," you replied. Finally, something you could talk about without feeling like you were crossing a minefield. From the corner of your eye, you could still see Sam staring you down with suspicion.

"Oh! That's awesome!" Danny replied, taking a sip of wine from his glass. "I love architecture, it's interesting."

"Mhm," you nodded, looking over at Tara and smirking with just a hint of malicious glee. "I tease her- my degree is actually useful. People don't really like film majors. They usually smell bad."

"Do they?" he asked, genuinely curious, and you turned back, nodding.

"Yeah, it's an unfortunately common stereotype. Film majors are annoying, smelly-," your words were cut off, feeling Tara's nail dig into your back for revenge and trying to stifle a wince. She gave the table a fake giggle.

"Okay, that's enough out of you," she said, and you grinned, cursing her out in your head.

"Why didn't you tell me it was (Y/n), Tara?" Sam asked, leaning forwards and studying you both. She seemed a bit miffed with the whole situation. You sent each other fake smiles, as if you were about to share a secret.

"Well," she said, trying to seem excited. "We just didn't want anyone ruining it, really. It was kind of a secret, and we didn't know what it would turn into. But it's just...it's been so fucking magic."

"Magic. Mhm," you hummed in agreement, looking off into the distance and pulling out the menu. You were just a bit too hungry to keep up with the game for the moment. Seriously? she shot you a glare, and you snapped to attention. "It is genuinely one of the happiest times of my life," you rushed, quickly smiling and then dropping your attention back down to the menu to look at some pasta.

“Does Chad know?” Sam asked, sitting back and staring at you both. Tara shook her head.

“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt him, but really, (Y/n)’s the one for me.” This was also a little bit impressive. Tara seemed to be a far better actor than you were, and Sam just nodded, suspicious but trusting her sister’s words.

===+++===

The moment you walked down the block and out of Sam and Danny's eyesight, your hand dropped from Tara's. The sun was just about setting in the distance, and city traffic was starting to slow down a little.

"Oh. My. God. Her face!" Tara said, laughing. She keeled over, and you smiled a little, remembering Sam's look of disgust, but quiet monitoring of your hand clutching onto Tara's. She looked like a very conservative nun, witnessing a sin being performed in real time. It was a little funny, you had to admit, not that you'd ever be caught laughing along with her.

"Danny seems nice," you said, after you walked a little farther.

Tara nodded. "He's surprisingly not a douchebag. I thought he would be, like you or something, but he's not that bad for Sam."

You scoffed. "I'm not a douchebag."

"You definitely are," Tara said, shaking her head. "One month because it wasn't official? You said we were going on dates before then. That's definitely douchebag behaviour. Sam probably thought that meant you were seeing other people."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "And 'kissing'??? Literally anything would've been better."

"I'm trying to help you, it's either this or nothing," you huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an on-the-spot person."

"Clearly," Tara said, shaking her head in overdramatic emphasis. She stopped suddenly and you jerked backwards, seeing her mess with her shoes.

"You good?" you asked, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"These damn shoes- making me walk home- god dammit," she grumbled, messing with the straps and the buckle on the side. You waited patiently, leaning against a stone wall as you waited for her to finish.

The sky above you had turned a deep purple, small hues of orange and pink in the form of clouds sitting at the edges. It was really something, and you stopped to watch it, whistling. Tara jerked upwards, planting her foot down to stomp her shoe into place.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The sky," you said, and she craned her neck up to watch it with you. "It's just really beautiful tonight."

She hummed for a moment before looking back to you. "It's a shame I'm spending it with you, of all people," Tara snorted. "I'm sure this would be romantic to any other couple."

"It would probably really be something," you said absentmindedly, looking up in thought. "A real waste on you and me though."

"Glad we agree," she said, leading the way. You and her had taken a separate path from Danny and Sam under the guise of getting some ice cream, but neither of you were willing to pay for it. Instead, you had to figure out what you would do with ten extra minutes.

"Do you want to cross?" you asked, gesturing to the other street, she nodded and you walked up, pressing the button. When you turned back to her, her nose was wrinkled.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. You just hit the button weird."

"What?" you blinked at her. "How can someone 'hit the button weird'?"

"I don't know, but you, like, pushed it weird. With your fingers."

You rolled your eyes. "Do you have a problem with everything I do?"

“Yep,” she nodded back. “It’s annoying.”

You guys kept walking in silence for the next block or two, making a square so that you could return to Sam and Tara’s apartment together. The sun had disappeared now and faded into night, and when you turned the corner to split off, she tugged on your arm.

“Hey wait, you have to walk me home.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her.

Tara shrugged. “You have to, to make Sam think we’re dating.”

You blinked at her. “But we live on opposite sides of the city.”

“Still.”

“Tara if I walk you home I’ll miss the last train,” you grumbled. “That’s a long ass walk.”

“Cmon, we have to or she won’t believe it.”

You frowned. “You’re paying for my cab then.”

She sighed. “Fine, but come on.”

She tugged you down the long strip by the hand, stopping suddenly, a block from her apartment. “Here wait,” she said, turning to you. “Give me your jacket.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh just do it, do you have to argue about everything?”

You took it off with a glare, handing it to Tara. She tried to slide it on but it was massive on her, so she bunched up the sleeves. With the flowers in her hand and your jacket, it definitely looked like you two had gone on a date.

She grabbed your hand again, pulling you forwards along the street and smiling brightly in case anyone looked out the window and saw you both. It felt a bit odd to be playing dress up, but it was helping someone out, so you didn’t begrudge her on getting you to smile either.

“Wait wait wait,” Tara said, stopping abruptly.

You groaned. “Now what.”

She pulled you to the side, near a row of shrubs that sat next to the red brick of her apartment building. “Sam’s watching us through the window.”

You turned your head, trying to see for yourself, and there she was, hanging right out the window and watching you with intense suspicion.

"Don't look at her!" Tara snapped at you, whispering with a glare. You rolled your eyes.

"What do you want me to do then, Tara?"

She frowned, biting her lip while she thought. She gave you a grimace. "We need to do, like, a goodnight kiss or something."

You glared at the suggestion. "I think I'd rather die."

"Trust me, I don't want to either," she said, glowering right back at you. "But if we do this now, we won't have to ever again."

You thought for a moment. She'd probably taste disgusting anyways, and then it would just confirm what you already knew- you hated Tara Carpenter. "Fine. Just convincing enough though."

"Okay," she nodded. When neither of you made a move to close the distance, she frowned. "Do like, a countdown or something?"

"A fucking countdown," you repeated. "We're not five."

"Just do it!" she demanded, glaring again.

"Okay, fine, Jesus Christ. Three...," your face moved a bit closer to hers. "Two," you muttered quietly, still leaning in. "One," you said, and then Tara pushed her face onto yours.

It was a chaste kiss, probably sprouting from the fact that neither of you especially wanted to do it. Her lips were softer than you expected them to be and her breath nowhere as near as it would be in your head. You pulled away quickly, and there she was, smiling up at you in the fake way she had been at the restaurant.

"Party next Friday?" she asked. "Now that Sam thinks we're together she won't care if I go. Just pick me up and we can go 'together.' Plus there's a cute kid from my film class who said she would be there."

You nodded. "Whatever."

"Great," she said with similar shortness, and she brushed right past you, heading into her building. You watched her walk off, making sure she got in the door safe. Sam was still looking at you from overhead, even when Tara had gone, and you could see Quinn standing behind her, looking with morbid curiosity.

It had never even crossed your mind to kiss Tara, just because of how annoying her personality was, and you would have rather died than admit it had been nice- that she had been nice for a night. Instead you turned around, walking off. You were sure Sam was still watching you, as you went.

===+++===

part two??? it shouldn't be too long before the next one, i had to split this up because it was getting insanely long and there's another half to the story. i didn't want this one to be like 8k words long, i'll just probably have another one that's 4-5k soon.

[haetrack]

pro: love: add

hacker!haechan x afab!reader

wc: 11.6k

warnings: smut, little plot, they are PERVERTS, slight invasion of privacy, esex, masturbation, praising, degradation, overstimulation, edging, sex meetup, oral, unprotected sex (NO!), switch!haechan, switch!reader, mentions of panty sniffing, breeding, fleshlight, this is all very unrealistic and i also know nothing about hackers thank u (also this represents haechan in no way)

a/n: HAPPY BDAY TO MY SPARKLY PRINCESS!!! this is the best guy ever... hope everyone enjoys my little present :3

if you asked him how he became a member of an underground maybe-not-so-ethical kinda-not-really mafia group, he wouldn’t know what to say.

when he was younger, he took interest in the technology around him. because of this interest, he finds himself in front of his laptop, quickly hacking into some random company’s firewall for his boss. he doesn’t mess with anything else, grabbing some information of a person he doesn’t know to send off.

he puts all the information about the man in a well protected folder and sends it off. that’s really all he does. he’s someone who works behind the scenes, unlike his other group members who have a more up close hand in everything. he wouldn’t want to either way, finding the solidarity and animosity in his room to be just right.

it was easy for haechan to get used to this lifestyle. he never really had too many people to talk to before, so now he gets to make easy money in the comfort of his home without talking a lot. he can do everything in his apartment without having to go out much, either. 

he yawns before closing all the windows on his screen. he’s done all the work he was assigned today, but he doesn’t know what he wants to do next. he takes his glasses off his face, hand moving to rub at his eyes before he slumps against his gaming chair. his hands fall to his lap, one of his thumbs massaging the soft skin of his inner thigh.

he smirks to himself, quickly acting on impulse as he moves to palm the front of his shorts. his cock twitches at the touch as he sighs contently at the feeling. his head rolls back against his seat, shutting his eyes as he gets hard. he bites his lip, his hand moves to slide under the waistband of his shorts and boxers-

he’s cut off by his phone buzzing loudly at the corner of the desk. he debates on not answering, but when he brings his phone close to his face, he curses. he sits up a bit before sliding his glasses back on, grumbling to himself as he answers the phone.

“what do you want, mark?”

“all i did was call you and you’re already mad,” mark huffs.

haechan rolls his eyes, “please hurry up and tell me why you called me.”

he can hear mark clear his throat, “johnny’s asking if you’ve sent that information he needs.”

haechan can feel his own mood turning sour. his tongue pokes at his cheek, “you can tell johnny that he can ask me that himself.”

it’s silent for a few moments on the other side of the call. haechan wants to scream at mark for taking so long when he could be doing other things. he feels his blood turn cold when he hears johnny’s voice, “hey, haechan? i need you to send those files before i make sure that your pay gets cut.”

“y-yeah, sorry! i just sent them a bit ago. please don’t reduce my pay, i might actually die.” 

johnny laughs lightly, haechan sighing in relief at the sound, “i wouldn’t do that to you. you’re lucky that you’re funny.”

haechan cries out a thank you to him, causing the other two to laugh. he waits for them to calm down before beginning, “let me know if you need anything else. i have to go, i was a little busy before you called.”

mark’s voice sounds from the call, “doing?”

johnny interrupts, “probably something nasty.”

“no! why do you always say that?”

“what else should i expect from a guy who does shit with his computer and stays inside all day?”

haechan groans, “whatever. i’m hanging up.”

haechan is quick to turn his phone on silent before throwing it somewhere on his bed. he isn’t hard anymore, but now he’s too desperate to just ignore it. he opens a private screen on his computer before scrolling for a bit. he doesn’t want to watch porn, doesn’t want to read it, but there’s something he wants to try.

he’s heard through small forums of this website that allows you to chat with an online service that adjusts to your preferences automatically. he finds it after some time, hands slightly shaky as he presses on the link. it’s a nice looking website, stating some information before he can actually get into it. he wonders what mechanisms were used to make it. he can’t help it.

he skims through the information before clicking the start button. he’s met with the sight of an anime-looking girl, one that he’d find on hentai. the voice calls out to him, what would you like to do with me tonight?

he’s quick to type out, ive been so busy. just need someone to take care of me.

the character on the screen leans forward more, exposing more of her chest. haechan bites his lip at the sight, her voice calling out again, yeah? want me to take care of you? make you feel nice and good?

he responds with a yes, quickly shimmying out of his shorts as his cock strains in his boxers. it’s not often that he gets to talk like this with someone, even if this someone isn’t real. he’s too horny to care, not when he’s already been denied once. the character smiles at his response, groping at its chest. haechan watches closely, eyes hooded as he once again palms himself.

it must be so hard for you, right? the character says, getting bossed around all day when all you wanna do is get taken care of. i’ll do anything you want me to. 

there’s a voice-to-chat option, but haechan isn’t really sure he wants to do that for his own privacy. he’ll manage to type with one hand while his other grips around his clothed length. make yourself feel good w me, want u 2 tell me when to cum.

the character agrees quickly, the screen pushing back to get its whole body in frame. it’s clad in only panties, smiling at him before speaking, are you gonna touch yourself for me? let me see how big your cock is?

he slides his boxers down just enough to get his length out. it slaps against his stomach, leaking at the tip. he didn’t realize how needy he was until now, easily wrapping his fist around his length. it’s easy for him to give in, the character’s words drifting to his ear, causing small whines to fill the air.

he tunes it all out eventually (not counting when he gets praised). he can’t stop thinking about how bad he wants to do this with someone in real life. he always says it’s because he’s too busy with his job, but he knows he can’t keep lying to himself. he pretends that sweet voice that’s calling out to him is someone real, sitting right on top of him as he gets whispered praises.

his hand wraps around his cock tighter at the thought, his hips bucking up into his fist. he licks his lips as his other hand trails up his hand, his fingers brushing over his nipple. quiet whimpers fill the air, and there’s nothing he wants more than to moan out someone’s name. 

he could give everything to someone. he’d be so obsessed, practically at their beck and call. he just needs to put all this energy and desperation he has somewhere. he isn’t a loser, isn’t gross, but it’s hard to deny it all when he’s getting off to a character calling him sweet and coaxing him to an orgasm.

he bites down on his lip to stop the pathetic moan that tries to slip out. he’s not typing anymore, listening in to what the voice is telling him to do. speed up, show me how bad you need it, and all haechan can do is obey and fuck his fist faster. 

sobs sound throughout his room as his fist tightens around his tip, his thumb teasing at it. he no longer cares about how loud he’s being, no longer cares about denying how pathetic he looks right now. all he wants to do is cum, wants someone to come over so he can stuff all of his cum inside of a warm pussy.

it doesn’t take much longer, cum spurting all over his fist as he pinches at his nipples, loud whimpers slipping out of him. his ears are ringing, the voice speaking to him inaudible as he rides out his high. his hips twitch when he tries to overstimulate himself, a breathy laugh slipping out of his mouth.

the character looks fucked out, cheeks red as if it came down from its own orgasm. there’s a small smirk on its face, thanking him for everything, telling him just how good he’s been. haechan lays back onto his chair, heavy breaths beginning to even out. it’s when he hears the voice speak up again:

thanks for being such a good boy, lee donghyuck.

haechan’s heart stops. what did it just say? 

it was easy getting all of his information.

you don’t really tap into the chats happening on your website, but this one piqued your interest. the fake name put in sounded too familiar, something you're sure you’ve heard before. you can’t miss out on this opportunity of possibly getting to see one of the most renowned hackers. 

when you dig a little deeper, you’re met with some information about him. you’d think for a hacker, he’d be a little more protective about his information. it’s all laid out in front of you, almost as if he were begging for someone- for you to find it.

you can’t help but fuck with him a little. you make the character that he’s talking to call him by his real name. that’s all you were gonna do, really, besides look over his chat (to which you find out he likes being called a good boy). you know what he’s capable of, and if this is really him, you don’t want anything to happen to you.

except, you don’t really take into account how good he is at what he does, and you’re quick to get a call from someone you don’t know. you ignore it, obviously, given the circumstance you’re in. you should block the number seeing how you’re being spammed with calls, but you can’t get yourself to. you want to see how far this can go, to see if it’s really him, and just to make fun of him a little.

after what seems like the twentieth call, you finally pick up. it sounded like he was hyperventilating for a moment, but you assume he saw that you actually answered with how quiet he got. you don’t want to talk first, none of this is really your fault. you can hear him suck in a breath before he speaks, “who are you and what did you just do?”

“well, if you got my number, i’m assuming you already know who i am.”

he’s mumbling to himself in words you can’t hear. you should be scared, but knowing he just got off on your website makes this whole thing funnier. he can’t exactly report you, either. he would have to prove how he got your number when he doesn’t even know you.

“what made you even look into my conversation?” he pauses for a bit, probably recounting the whole chat, “i wasn’t even doing anything wrong?”

“your username seemed pretty familiar to me. sounded like something i’ve definitely heard before.” you pause, letting your words sit in the air. you can hear his breath pick up, trying to pull himself together at the possible thought of being caught. you start again, “are you… 6sunfull?”

he doesn’t speak. you don’t need him to say that he is, the silence tells you everything you need to know. you speak again, “you know, for being such a good hacker, you kinda suck at hiding your information.”

“how did you even find it? if it’s how i’m thinking, then that’s like, a total invasion of my privacy!”

you laugh, “that’s crazy coming from you. isn’t your whole job all about invading other people’s privacy?”

“it’s different!” he lets out an exasperated noise, “you run a porn website, think about your customers privacy!”

you splutter out a laugh, “look, i’m not gonna report you or anything. i just think it’s funny that someone like you was begging to be taken care of.”

“how do you even know that i’m that hacker? what if i’m just a random person getting my info taken away from me?”

“one, you got my number out of nowhere. two, you knew how i got your information. you’re used to this. plus, your birthday was basically in your username.”

an annoyed sound comes from his side of the call, “all i used was a six! whatever. i don’t want to talk about this anymore. do whatever with that information.” he quickly hangs up afterwards. you can’t blame him, you would probably try to run away from this, too. he didn’t ask you to block his number either, which tells you should let him take his time.

after all, he sounded too cute to let go.

a few days pass and you haven’t heard from him.

you’ve been trying to pretend like you don’t want to text him or you don’t want him to call you, but it’s been hard. he hasn’t been back on your website, hasn’t shown any sign of thinking about you. you’re not sure why you’re so invested, but knowing that you might be one of the only people who knows who he is helps.

but today, you get a text from the same unknown number from the other night.

unknown: you’re not going to report me to the police or anything… right

you: why would i do that

knowing that he’s on his phone, you’re quick to press the call button. it rings a few times before he decides to answer, a smile beginning to form on your face. you want to start talking, but he decides he wants to speak first, “i will send you whatever amount of money you want if you don’t snitch.”

“who says snitch anymore? and it’s too embarrassing for me to go to a police station and tell them i found a hacker who was on my pornsite.”

by the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s embarrassed, “thanks, i guess…” 

“you do owe me, though. for not ratting you out.”

“what do you want me to do?”

you know exactly what you want, “just for you to talk to me. i’m giving you the chance to talk to someone, donghyuck.”

you can hear him scoff on the other side, “who says i don’t talk to anyone? and don’t call me that, it’s weird. just call me haechan.”

ignoring him, you continue, “just trying to be nice. maybe next time you won’t have to use my website and instead you can just text me.”

“what?”

“only a suggestion. you don’t have to, but i’m just putting it out there. if you’re that desperate to use a pornbot, you can just use me instead.”

the words you said the other day were only meant to tease haechan.

after you finished speaking, you could hear him choke on his own breath, trying to calm himself down. you laughed it off, but you didn’t realize how much it impacted him. you played it off as a joke, trying to move on before he could think about it any further. he said he had other things to do, trying to hang up before you could continue. you hope you didn’t take anything too far.

you realize why he wanted to hang up so quickly when you’re met with a call late in the evening. lazily answering the call, you greet haechan. there’s silence on the other side of the call. you wait for him to speak, but you’re met with an airy groan as a response. your heart stops beating for a bit, and you quietly ask, “what’s wrong?”

when he speaks, it’s pitchy and breathy all at the same time, “t-thought you said… thought you said you could help me…”

did you really mean it? when you said you wanted to see how far this could go, you didn’t mean it like this. you start to mull over your options, but at your silence, you can hear the slick noise of haechan fucking his fist. the thought makes your body heat up, any thoughts you had were thrown out the window. how desperate is he to do it so openly in front of you?

it’s like he already knows that you would agree. he lets out a hushed whimper that almost sounds like your name, and you can’t help how your thighs squeeze together. you bite your lip, imagining how exactly he might look right now. you wonder why he decided to call you up, someone who’s practically a stranger, instead of someone else. 

you give in out of pure curiosity, only wanting to know more about what made haechan come to you. out of the few conversations you had, he wants you to help get him off, he wants to hear your voice telling him to cum. it’s why you ask, “are you going to tell me what you’re doing right now?”

“i’m… i was thinking about what you said to me. thought about what you would say to me, how you might sound… wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

you move to your bed, laying against the headboard as you get comfortable. you slide down your shorts, squeezing your thighs once more. you can feel how uncomfortably wet you are, feeling how you clench around nothing at the sound of haechan whining.

you try to stop your voice from being so shaky before you speak, “aren’t you embarrassed? moaning like this in front of a stranger?”

you can hear the sound of him fucking his fist faster, “d-don’t care. you’ve already seen how i’m like, spying on me and all… you probably like this, too.”

you scoff into the mic, but he’s right. he’s being so shameless, but you can’t help but feed into it. you do want to make him hold out though. you want to see him beg, just like he was on the chat. just this once, you’ll give into him. you breathe out, “you just need my help, hm? just need me to take care of you and make you cum?”

he’s moaning, obviously too horny to care about how loud he’s being. he laughs a little at how your teasing him for his messages, “wanna see you cum, too. please cum with me.”

you hum, “don’t know if you deserve it, you were getting off without me.”

“please? wanna hear you and how wet your pussy is.”

you can’t help but whimper at his words, causing haechan to moan louder than you. your hand slides down over your panties, teasing yourself while haechan continues to get off on the call.

he picks up on how quiet you’re being, choosing to take over, “you’re touching yourself, too, right? stopped teasing me so much so you can touch your pretty pussy?”

you hate how much his words get to you, trying to hide your noises by biting down on your lip. he’s not even trying to be mean, he’s just rambling, saying all the thoughts he has out loud for you to hear.

“would you be mad if i said i looked up what you look like? just wanted- wanted to see how you looked like. it’s not fair that you already know how i look.”

you moan out, your fingers circling your clothed clit at his words. you don’t care about how obvious you’re being anymore, not caring how haechan could probably hear how desperate you are. if anything, the groan he lets out tells you everything you need to know.

his voice is whiny, “wanna see you, w-wanna see you cum. are you gonna cum, too? wanna see it… can i please facetime you, i just- i’m so close.”

“fuck… are you sure? aren’t you worried that-”

“no, i don’t care. promise, just need to see you. i’m gonna cum without you if you keep on-”

you hang up the call before he can finish his sentence, a smile forming on your face as a minute passes by. you quickly facetime him, greeted by the sight of the upper part of haechan’s face. his bangs brush over his eyes, which widen in shock when he realizes you called back. his head tilts back into his gaming chair, a moan slipping out at the sight of you smiling at him.

you laugh, “are you gonna let me see all of you?”

he blinks back at you, shyness seemingly taking over him, “i-i thought you didn’t wanna talk to me so i kinda… let myself cum.”

you let out an astounded laugh at his words, watching as he props his phone on his desk, showing you the mess he made. his shirt was lifted enough for all his cum to miss it, shorts tugged down as if he was rushing to touch himself. his cheeks are flushed, biting his lip as he shyly watches your reaction. you tilt your head, “do you think you can cum again?”

“only if i get to see you,” he pushes the hair out of his eyes so he can see you better. he can’t look away once you set your phone against your pillow, letting haechan drink in the sight of you. it’s almost embarrassing for you as he lets out a loud whine when he sees that you’re only wearing an oversized shirt and your panties. he pants, “you look so much better like this, needed more than just your voice.”

“yeah?” you slip a hand between your thighs, “nothing’s ever enough for you, right?”

you watch as he swipes his fingers through the cum on his stomach before wrapping his hand around his length, his hips twitching at the feeling. he’s trying to hold back his moans, trying to fight through the overstimulation as he starts moving his fist. his eyes watch you with intent, just waiting to see what you do next. “slow down if you wanna cum with me,” you sigh, “you’re gonna cum without me again.”

“yeah, sorry, just-” he hesitantly pulls his hand away from his cock, choosing to run it over his stomach. his hand pushes his shirt up, brushing his fingers over his nipples as he lets out a small whine. his eyes focus on you again, “you just look so good right now, can’t help myself.”

“really?” you ask, hand slipping under your panties to rub at your clit. you swallow down a moan, “all you wanna do is stuff me full of your cock, hm? take care of me, too?”

“yes, please. wanna do it so fucking bad. wanna fuck you full of my cum.” his eyes flutter shut, the thought being too much for him to handle. his eyes shoot open when he hears a choked whimper come out of you, realizing that you pulled your panties aside for him to see. even though it’s dark in your room, he’ll take anything he can get.

“isn’t that too much to ask from a person you barely know?”

“d-don’t act like you don’t like it. you’re just as bad as me, getting yourself off to a stranger.”

you clench at his words before giving in and teasing a finger into your cunt. all you can think about is him, the sounds of his moans and how hard his fucking his hand surrounds you. he can’t help it either, eyes glued on how your finger slides in and out of you. he debates on turning his volume all the way up when he swears he can hear how wet you are.

you slip a second finger inside, moaning at the feeling. hearing haechan whimper, your eyes focus on the screen, watching as his hand tightens around his base, stopping himself from cumming right away. you let out a shaky sigh, calming yourself down before speaking, “i’m almost gonna cum, too, just wait for me.”

“i just wanna-” his fist wraps around his tip, hips fucking into the tight space, “wanna do it for you. wanna finger you, wanna fuck you, wanna eat you out. i can do whatever you want.”

your palm rubs against your clit, your thighs beginning to shake. he sounds so desperate, just from seeing you like this. even though you’re a stranger, he can’t help but want you. everything about him screams that he’s a gross pervert, but that only draws you in more. he might just bring out the worst in you. 

“you’ll let me play with you, too, right? let you fuck my mouth, let me touch you how ever i want? let everyone know that you’re mine?”

he nods quickly, moans of your name spilling out of his mouth as he tells you he’s about to cum. you feel the same, one of your hands sneaking up to pinch at your nipple. haechan’s eyes struggle to stay open, watching you get yourself off just because of him. he’s the one making you feel good, all through the sight of him and his words.

“fuck, can you show me your tits? wanna- wish i could cum all over them.”

you pull up your shirt to expose your chest, haechan cumming for the second time this night at the sight of you on display for him. his hand pinches at his nipple, matching your movements as he rides out his orgasm. you follow right after, cumming at the sight of him looking so fucked out. 

haechan tries to catch his breath again, letting out a breathy laugh, “god… i should’ve taken a screenshot.”

your post-orgasm haze is ruined by his words, “why can’t you be normal and just ask for a nude later?”

“isn’t it more romantic knowing that i wanted to capture something so beautiful in the heat of the moment?”

you frown at him, watching as he pulls a tissue from his desk, wiping off the cum on his chest, “knowing you have tissues on your desk tells me that you know nothing about being romantic.”

a pout forms on his face, trying to make himself look more presentable as if he didn’t just cum right in front of you. you can’t deny that he doesn’t look good, and now that he brings his phone closer to his face, you can see just how good he looks. there’s a few moles adorning his face, tying all of his pretty features together.

he notices you staring for too long, smirking a bit, “you can’t be mean to a stranger like that! you’ll help me learn to be a little more romantic, right?”

as much as you want to say no, you’re forced to agree when you see the hopeful look in his eyes.

you’ve been talking to haechan a lot more.

he’s been telling you his interests other than coding and hacking. he lets you in on his day to day life, even when all he’s done was work. you think it’s cute how he calls you for things other than sex. you’ve gotten texts from him asking what he should eat for lunch, calls ranting about an episode from a show he’s watching. you like that he’s trying to get close to you.

you wonder if he’s ever had someone to talk to like this. even though he told you he talks to his coworkers, there’s only so much you can talk about with people you work with. especially if it’s for an underground-basically-illegal business. you try not to think about it too much, especially with how happy haechan gets when he has a chance to talk to you. 

today he called you while you were in the middle of fixing a bug that was reported on your website. he didn’t text you early that morning, and you didn’t want to bother him assuming that he was busy. you weren’t expecting his call, but you welcome it.

“why are you calling me at the grocery store?”

he laughs as if it’s the most normal thing, “people call at the grocery store, it’s normal. plus, i was feeling a little lonely. who else would i have called?”

“fine. right now i’m trying to see what’s wrong with my code. someone reported today that there was something wrong with my website.”

“those poor people.”

“haechan, you were one of those ‘poor people.’” 

he brushes you off, saying that he’s better than all of them now that he has you. he tells you that he’s getting a few things to make lunch for himself later. he was busy with work earlier, but he can’t tell you exactly what he was doing, not right now. it’s easy to forget that everything he does is supposed to be a secret, even from you.

“so, you’re gonna cook? you don’t seem like a good cook.”

“hey! i am a very good cook, you just have to trust me. i just needed to pick up a few things.”

you halfheartedly scan through the lines of code, not in any rush to fix anything. it wasn’t that important, not when the thought of haechan looking domestic seems to get stuck in your head. “yeah?” you hum, “wish i was there with you, wish i could try some.”

the laugh he lets out causes you to smile, not being able to fight off the effect he has on you. there’s a part of you that really does want to see him. how he might lean over the stove, his shoulders on display for you as you watch from behind. you lose your train of thought, hearing haechan grumble about them not having the right product.

“you know, if i was there, watching you cook, i wouldn’t be able to help myself.”

you can hear how his mumbling abruptly stops, catching onto the meaning of your words. if only you had facetimed him, you would’ve been able to see his face. he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his screen like he is now. you start again, “wish i could hug you from behind, maybe kiss your neck a bit if you’d let me.”

he whispers into his phone as if other people can hear you, “you’re gonna tell me this while i’m in the produce section? please calm down.” 

you let out a light chuckle, “as if you don’t like it.”

“why are you trying to get me hard in a grocery store? you need to be normal.”

you shrug, forgetting that he can’t see you, “it’s your fault you take everything i say seriously.”

it’s quiet again, and you assume haechan is trying to calm himself down. you can’t help but continue, “i hope when you cook, all you can think about is my hands all over you, especially where you need me the most.”

he speaks up again, soft, just for you to hear, “say one more thing and i’ll have to jerk off in the store’s restroom.”

laughter slips out of you, unable to keep yourself serious at the thought, “in the store’s bathroom? you really are a gross pervert!”

“stop! you are, too! you like seeing me be like this!”

you can’t deny it, so you let out a dreamy sigh, “you can just show me later, instead.”

and who is he to say no to you?

you always knew that haechan had a dirty mouth.

in all of the calls you both shared together, he always managed to say something that would catch you off guard. days where he wants to fill you up with his cum, days where all he wants is for you to call him a needy slut, other days where he threatens to buy a fleshlight if he can’t fuck you soon. this is who haechan is as a person, and you find yourself following his ways.

today, though, he really can’t stop talking.

he must’ve been worked up, trying to start the call as normal as one can before he eventually breaks down. in his own words, all he wants to do is “be smothered by your pussy.” as much as you want to cringe at his words, you can’t help the way your body heats up at the thought of him only thinking about you.

“fuck, just wanna taste.”

his eyes are zeroed into how wet you are, how all he can hear is the squelch of your pussy through his headphones. all he wants for you to do is shove your fingers in his mouth, letting him get a taste of how sweet you are. “please, i could make you feel so good. i just know you taste so good, smell so good, too.”

you let out a weak moan of his name, your body needing nothing more than for him to take care of you. his eyes are dazed, watching how his hips fuck into his fist just from the sight of you. you think he might just be a little bit obsessed with you, memorizing all the points of your body just from his phone.

“i wouldn’t stop eating you out until you’re begging me. wanna feel you pull at my hair and push me away. just need it so bad, need you so bad.”

“y-yeah?” you breathe, “do i need to send you some panties in the mail? p-perverts like you like that, right?”

he lets out a fuck, gripping at his base. through the low light and the slight grain on his phone, you can see pearly cum leak out of his tip, watching him willingly ruin his own orgasm. his whole body is shivering, and even in the darkness you can see how his cheeks are pink. there’s shock written on your face, and he just lazily smirks at you, “only wanna cum good if you’re feeling good with me.”

“then show me how good i should be feeling.”

he’s quick to continue his ministrations, curses leaving his mouth as he fucks through the overstimulation, whimpers filling the air. you swear you can see a few tears leave his eyes, his back arching up for your touch, wishing that you could just reach through the screen.

“j-just wanna,” a moan cuts him off, “wanna show everyone you’re mine. wanna mark you, wanna fuck you full of my cum.”

“wanna show me off? let everyone know just how good you fuck me?”

his free hand begins pinching at his nipple, causing his hips to stutter a bit, “of course. i’d record us, watch every single time i miss you. i’d post it to your website, too. make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.”

“all they’re gonna see is how good i can fuck you, watch how i can make you all fucked out.”

“wan’ it, want it so bad.”

“you always say that you’re gonna be the one fucking me, but that’s my job, right? you’d let me use you like a little toy? taking everything i give to you?” your own movements speed up as you watch him fall apart at your words. you can’t imagine how he’d be in real life if he’s acting like this over a call.

“fuck yes. all i wanna be is yours, i’ll do whatever you ask me to.”

you can tell he’s close, hand speeding up over his cock as he writhes around in his seat. you can hear all of the sounds he’s making, wanting nothing more than to cum at the thought of you two together. however, you cut through his thoughts, “then will you stop touching yourself?”

he’s shocked when he hears you, hooded eyes looking back at yours. his hand stops moving, but he still has a tight grip on his length. a little breathlessly, he asks, “what? i- i can’t…”

you cock your head to the side, “you just said you’d do anything i ask you to do though?”

“does it have to be now? c-can’t it be next time?”

you shrug, “i’ll do whatever you want next time if you do this for me now.”

he immediately rips his hand away from his cock, placing both hands onto his thigh. you scoot back a bit on your bed, showing off the rest of your body to him. you watch his cock twitch just from the sight of you, his hands itching to make himself feel good.

your fingers circle your clit, head tilting back at the feeling. “sometimes, you just have to slow down a bit. take a real look at what’s in front of you, y’know?” 

you know he’s not really paying attention when he’s slow to nod. you watch as his cock helplessly twitches on his abdomen, begging to be touched by him, to be touched by you. with how wet you are, you can slide in two fingers easily, moaning out his name. he looks so desperate, almost willing to beg for anything. “won’t you tell me how good i look?”

he runs his hands up and down his thighs, his blunt nails digging into his skin. you wanna laugh at how his cock jumps with the slight pain, haechan trying to hide the whimper he lets out. he heaves out, “l-look so good… i know you’d look even better filled up with my cum…”

you pout, “are you saying i don’t look that good right now?”

“no! i’m fighting the urge to not cum untouched just from watching you.”

you moan at the thought, your back arching up as your hips roll into your hand. your eyes focus on him, “you better hurry and touch yourself before i cum all by myself.”

he’s quick to obey, hand wrapping around his cock and setting a quick rhythm. he’s louder than you, whines and whimpers of your name being the only thing leaving his mouth. “think ‘m gonna cum… please, want you to cum with me!”

“y-yes! haechan, i’m cumming!”

your mind goes blank as you come undone, body tightening in on itself as you clench around your fingers. through blurry eyes, you can see haechan with his head thrown back, cum spurting all over his chest as he moans out your name. you think he looks the best like this, the only thing on his mind being you.

it’s quiet for a few minutes after you both come down from your highs. you’re laid down onto your bed while haechan is slumped in his gaming chair. you don’t bother to get up, enjoying the presence of haechan, even through the phone. 

the silence is cut off by haechan, “i really need to get you back for edging me. do you know how mean that is?”

“i personally really liked it. i should’ve taken a screenshot of how desperate you looked. i would’ve made it my wallpaper.”

“if you say it like that, then… i wouldn’t mind. everyone would see how obsessed i am with you.”

you watch as haechan contemplates his next words, and he looks a little too serious for you to be comfortable. you want to ask if something is wrong, but he beats you to it, “did you really mean it when you said that you would send your panties to me?”

you glare at him, “in what world would i want to do that? you are so gross.”

he coos at you, “you like it though.”

“i’d only want you to see them in person. you can keep them and do whatever gross thing you want with them then.”

“are you serious about meeting in person?”

you think about it for a few moments. as much as you’d want to, there are a few things you’re worried about. even though you’ve revealed so much to him, you’re not sure how you feel about inviting him over to your place yet. you let out a small laugh, “you could just look up my address.”

“i wouldn’t do that. not to you.”

his words make you a little shy, despite the meaning behind them. for haechan, these words are tender, keeping a part of his life away from you. he wouldn’t hurt you like that. it brings you relief, and it only makes it harder for you to hide the feelings that begin to grow inside of you.

you both think about what options you have. there’s only so much desire you can hold back before the urge to really meet him takes over. you throw an idea out, “how about we both meet at a selected place?”

“like a hotel?”

your eyes shine at his suggestion, “exactly! i forget how smart you are.”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheeks, “only for you, baby.”

you threaten to end the call because of the pet name.

(he begs for you to stay on call with him.)

(you say yes.)

you spend the next few weeks planning out a trip where you can both meet.

the both of you figure out a place that’s convenient for the both of you, some kind of middle point where you can choose a hotel. haechan says he can pay for it all, willing to splurge a little more if it’s for you. it’s easy for you to agree, not willing to argue with a man who probably has way more money than he lets on.

there’s a lot of things that you’re nervous about when you start packing for the trip. you hope haechan is as nice as he lets on in person. you could end up not liking him by the end of this trip. what if he doesn’t like you? what if you do something weird and he doesn’t like you anymore?

it dawns upon you that he’s haechan. 

all of the days leading up to this, where you both talk for as long as you can, it’s obvious how much he likes you. he spends a lot of his free time with you, even if he’s doing something else. it’s safe for you to say that you feel the same way. you can only hope that this trip shows the feelings that have been building up.

it’s really nothing that you should be worried about. as the days lead up, you both talk about how excited you are. haechan says as soon as he gets you alone, he’ll be pressing you against the wall, kissing you until you beg him to do something. you say that that will most likely not be happening, but you like his confidence anyways.

the actual traveling day isn’t so bad. you don’t have to wake up too early, and you already prepared everything you need from the night before. you recount everything you need to do before heading out, letting haechan know that you’re already on the way. he’s quick to respond, telling you that he beat you by already leaving his house before you. you thumbs down his text.

after a few hours of traveling, you make it to the hotel. a grimace forms on your face when you see the fancy-looking hotel, wondering just how much haechan paid for the both of you. you arrive a bit earlier than scheduled, but it’s not too crowded in the lobby, so you sit down before texting haechan.

you: i just got here

you: are you close or 

haechan: im nearby so u can just wait for me

haechan: literally gonna shit my pants when i see u

you quietly laugh at his text before reacting to it with a thumbs down. you scroll through your phone for a few minutes as you try to calm your heart down. you’re not really paying attention to the screen, moreso trying to convince other people that you’re not currently trying not to die from nervousness.

it’s ten times worse when he texts you that he made it to the hotel. you shut off your phone, grabbing your bags before standing up. your eyes are focused on the entrance, biting your lip with every moment that passes.

you let out a breath when he walks in, relaxing at the sight of haechan walking in. he looks equally as nervous as you did, eyes nervously flicking across the lobby. it’s when he hears you calling his name that he looks at you, a small smile painting his face. 

any worries that you had from before fade away as you walk towards him, a grin on your face as you drop your bags to hug him. he jumps a little in your hold, his arms hesitating slightly when he hugs you back. it’s weird to be able to feel him after so long, you never would’ve expected this to happen.

“haechan,” you breathe out, “i’m so glad you got here.”

he holds you a little tighter, “me too. i… i can’t believe you’re actually real…”

you laugh at his comment, noticing something different, “i didn’t know you wear glasses?”

“stop, it’s embarrassing…” he mutters shyly, “just wanted to make sure i can see you good.”

you pull away from him, asking if he’s ready to check in now that he’s here. you make it over to the front desk. the person at the desk is subtly trying to text on their phone, quickly turning it off and around once you clear your throat. they smile, “how can i help you?”

you let them know that you’re checking into a room for two people. once you get asked for the payment, haechan fishes around for his card somewhere in his bag. it takes a few moments, the receptionist staring at you two. it’s almost as if they can see how this is your first time meeting each other.

you focus on the polaroid on the back of their phone, a picture of them with a man with a bright smile and dark hair. you break away once they give you the room keys, “let me know if you need anything else.” 

you thank them before grabbing everything, heading to the elevator. no one speaks when you two enter, no one else in the elevator but the both of you. you can see haechan’s fingers twitch at his sides before choosing to wrap an arm around you. a small laugh leaves you, easily leaning into his side, pressing a small kiss to the skin of his neck. you laugh harder when he shakes at the feeling.

he pulls away from you once you make it to your floor. your body is buzzing every second you’re apart from him, wondering why he isn’t all over you like he said he’d be. his hand is shaking when he messes with the key, opening the door and stumbling in.

the room is big, one large bed for the both of you. haechan laughs as you drop your bags to plop yourself into bed. you look back at him expectantly, watching as he cautiously puts his bags down and sits next to you in bed. you place your hand on his thigh to pull yourself up close to his face, your noses almost touching.

you can hear his breath hitch, how his eyes move to look at your lips, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. you cock your head to the side, “don’t you wanna kiss me? like you said you would?”

he licks his lips, “i… will you- will you let me?”

you do it for him. you press your lips against his, leaning into his body. his hand moves to hold your waist, gripping too tightly before he decides to hover his hand over your side. the kisses are slow at first, getting used to each other. his lips are soft against yours, his hand deciding to move up to cup your face instead.

haechan gains a bit more confidence as he moves his lips faster against yours. he’s quick to whine against your mouth, tongue licking against your lips. it’s almost embarrassing how fast you are to give into him, feeding into his desperation. you can feel how his hand feels clammy against your face, your hand moving to intertwine with his.

when you pull away to catch your breath, you laugh at how his glasses have fogged up. he whines in embarrassment, moving to sit himself against the headboard of the bed. he spreads his legs a bit, inviting you to sit on his thighs. you crawl over to him, an innocent smile on your face as he watches your every movement. 

as you place yourself on his thighs, you look down on him, his pretty eyes looking up to yours. your hand places itself on his cheek, tracing along the moles that you always found yourself staring at. he leans into your touch, mumbling more to himself, “i never thought i’d get to have you like this…”

“we have all the time in the world now,” you lean down to give him a peck on his lips, “we can do anything we want.”

his hands are hesitant when they hold you by your waist, bringing your body closer to his. he sits you right on top of his bulge, feeling how he’s already hard from just some kissing. you giggle to yourself, letting your chest press against his as you kiss him again. one of his hands slip under your shirt, hand warming the skin at your side.

his hips begin to shift under yours, his hand trailing higher and higher before it stops at the cup of your bra. he pulls away from you a bit, his hooded eyes and puffy lips letting you know what he wants. you nod at him before kissing him, his hand moving to cup your chest. his other hand joins, both hands now groping at your covered chest. 

he licks into your mouth, hands moving harder against you. you can feel his cock poking against your thigh, smiling into the kiss. your hand slips under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, touching his leaking tip. his whole body has a reaction, head tilting back as he lets out a moan. he tries to swat away your hand, and you try to argue, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

“b-but i’ll-” a whimper leaves him this time, “i’ll cum if you keep touching me like that-”

you try to hold back your laugh, ultimately failing when you see the embarrassed look on his face. he whines before grabbing both of your wrists, pushing you down flat on your back. he hovers over you, eyes filled with desperation as he openly stares at you. his hands tug at the hem of your shirt, asking for permission to take off your shirt. 

you agree, watching him slide it off of you with your help. he’s met with the sight of your bra, hands shakily moving to take hold of your chest. he touches you how he likes, a dazed look on his face as he gets more greedy. “you don’t know how much i thought about this… just wanted to touch you here so much…”

your hands fumble to undo the clasps at the back, sliding your bra off so haechan can get a better look. he moans unabashedly,  immediately moving to mouth at the valley of your chest. he’s leaving marks as he pleases, making it to your nipple and sucking harshly. his other hand pinches at the other nipple, causing you to let out choked whimpers. 

your legs twitch at his hips, forcing him to stay in between your legs. you can feel how his hips grind down, mindlessly chasing his own pleasure. “you can probably get yourself off just like this, right? i can see you humping the bed.”

“fuck, i can’t help it. you’re so hot,” he mumbles against your skin, “i could make you feel good all day, that’s all i need.”

as if something goes off in his mind, he’s quick to begin trailing kisses down your body. your skin jumps at the feeling, his eyes peering up at yours. he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down, not caring how rough he’s being. it’s quiet in the room when he sees you in just your underwear, his heavy breaths filling the air. his nose nuzzles against the seat of your panties, a chill running up your spine when you can feel him breathe in deeply.

he slowly pulls your panties down, his eyes zeroed in on your core. he holds the panties in his hands, looking back at you, “you said you’d let me keep these, right?”

you laugh at him, feigning disgust when he asks, “you’re so gross! but i did make a promise, right?”

there’s a giddy look on his face when he pushes them away for later. he focuses on what’s more important, your open legs inviting him to where he’s been fantasizing the most. he settles down between your thighs again, pressing quick kisses to your inner thighs. he feels them try to close in on him, one of his hands moving to keep one leg pried open. 

he takes a breath before looking at your core. he swipes a finger down your slit before sticking in his mouth. a moan follows, “you taste so sweet. fuck, it’s better than i imagined…”

it takes no time for him to press a kiss to your clit, sucking lightly as you let out a low moan. it’s easy for him to bring you closer to his face, spreading your cunt apart with his thumbs as his tongue licks at your entrance. all you can hear is how loud he’s being, the slurps of him against your cunt and the moans he’s letting out get to your head.

his tongue focuses at your entrance, switching between sticking the tip of it in your entrance and licking up at the slick that comes out. his thumb circles your clit, pressing hard against it causing you to twitch in his hold. his hand gives up on trying to keep your leg open, choosing instead to move up and tug at your nipple.

your thighs begin to shake around his head, feeling his fluffy hair tickle your thighs. when his tongue moves to tease your entrance again, you clench around it. he moves slightly away, eyes gazing up at you in wonder, lips and chin glossy with how wet you are. he licks his lips, “are you-”

you cut him off, “fingers- i need your fingers, haechan.”

he’s quick to comply, moving back to his original spot. his mouth replaces his thumb, now choosing to suck on your clit. there’s a finger at your entrance, slowly pushing in. he grunts against you when he feels you clench again, tongue flicking at your clit. your hands shoot to his hair, threading through the strand as your hips rut against his face.

it’s when you feel his glasses bump against your skin that he lets out an irritated noise. you open your eyes fast enough to see him pull away from you, quickly ripping his glasses off his face and moving right back to your pussy. you wail when he doesn’t add another finger, “n-need more, haechan, please.”

he nods against you, not pulling away as he adds another finger. all the air in your chest leaves as he curls them inside you, hitting spots that you could never reach on your own. he chuckles against you, “who knew that you can be this messy just from me eating you out? made you wait so long, didn’t mean to, baby.”

your hands tighten around some strands of his hair, causing him to whimper against you. the bed shakes a little when his hips grind against the bed. he chuckles lightly, “n-need you to cum already or else i’m gonna cum just by grinding against the bed.”

“keep going and i’ll cum soon. right there, haechan, please.”

your hands press his face closer to you, no longer obstructed by his glasses. his tongue teases your clit, giving you just enough stimulation to have you whining. he can tell you’re close just by how you’re clenching around his fingers. when he looks up at you, his heart beats a little faster with how good you look, and it’s all because of him. he moans out,  “god, you’re so perfect, everything about you is so-”

he’s cut off by your moan, your orgasm crashing into you, clenching hard down onto his fingers. he helps you ride through it, fucking his fingers into you until you start pushing his head away from you. he laughs before you take his wet fingers into your mouth, cleaning them up as you stare right at him.

he’s quiet now, no words coming out of him as you move to peel off his sweats. you eye how hard he is in his boxers, hand moving to palm his clothed cock. he whines, just like before, “please don’t. i will seriously cum right now if you keep on touching me.”

you blink at him, “what’s so wrong with that?”

“wanna do it inside your pretty pussy.”

you lean up to press your lips against his again. it’s desperate this time, tongues moving against each other as haechan holds you close to him. it only takes a bit of grinding against his cock before he breaks, standing up to clumsily pull his boxers and shirt off. in the meantime, you situate yourself against the pillows, haechan practically pouncing on top of you. 

he teases his tip along your slit, tapping it lightly against your sensitive nub. you hiss, your hands reaching for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. he lets out a hushed whimper at the pain, cheeks red when you let out a laugh. you sigh out to him, “i needed this more than you can imagine. somehow i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, and you can feel how he smiles against you, “what do you mean ‘somehow?’ i like to think that you’re just as obsessed with me as i am with you.”

he teases your entrance with his tip, causing you both to moan. you breathe out, “i can’t believe i let some loser hacker get me like this. you should be glad.”

“i’m the best one in this world, y’know? now tell this loser hacker how much you want him.”

you whine out his name, “please don’t tease… i know you want this as bad as i do, i can feel your cock twitching against me. just wanna feel you deep in me. i know you want it, too.”

he bites his lip to hold back a moan, his body betraying him when his hips push against yours. “a-alright, i know, baby. i’ll make sure to make the both of us feel good, okay? you ready?”

you nod, reaching up to give him one last kiss. you watch as he lines himself up at your entrance, his eyes losing focus. he pushes in slowly, your head pushing into the pillows as you moan out his name. he’s thick, your walls trying to adjust to his size as his head falls to your shoulder, his warm breath hitting your skin.

once he bottoms out, he looks down to see where he’s buried deep inside you. he lets out a whimper, his arms weak as he tries to hold himself up. he lets out a shaky breath, “i don’t- i don’t think i’ll last long…”

“i-it’s okay, just go slow. i can wait-”

he pushes his cock deeper inside you, “no i can- i can move just-”

he feels you clench around his cock for the first time, your walls sucking him in deeper. it’s all too much for him, your warm cunt and your needy little face is just too much. he can’t help it when his cock throbs inside of you, cum shooting deep inside your cunt without any warning. he falls on top of you, biting down on your shoulder to try to hide out the loud whimpers he’s letting out.

you’re not too surprised with how long he’s been holding himself out. he was even teasing himself, grinding against the bed when he was eating you out. you soothe him, hands running up and down his back as he lets out soft cries. you’re fine with it ending here, there’s still much more time you have together.

except, haechan pushes himself back up, cheeks red and eyes filled with tears as he fucks his cock into you again. he lets out a hiss, eyes fluttering shut at the overstimulation biting at him. you can feel how messy it all is, some of his cum slipping out of you and helping him fuck you. 

he’s slow at first, trying to will away the pain. you’re louder than him right now, his cock hitting every spot inside you. you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. you cry out to him, “thank you, haechan. fuck, i feel so full!”

whining at your words, he quickens his pace, the pain bleeding into pleasure. “never thought i’d be able to feel you like this, so i-” a moan leaves him when your nails dig into his back, “i couldn’t help myself, had to cum- need to cum inside you.”

“felt so good, i didn’t care. wanna feel you cum again, wanna cum with you this time!”

“i’ll make sure you do, baby.”

he’s so sensitive right now, tears nearly prickling his eyes as he fucks you. he can’t seem to care though, not when your warm walls are clenching around him. not when you call out his name like he’s the only thing you need. how could he care when you’re the only thing he wants in his life?

“you know, i couldn’t stop thinking about this on the ride here. h-had to stop myself from getting hard in a taxi because of you.”

“y-yeah? needed you just as much, touched myself last night because i wanted you so bad.”

he whines at the thought of you stuffing your fingers in your cunt, moaning out his name just because of him. he can feel you shaking under him, wanting nothing more than to cum. “i’m here for you now, gonna give you everything you need. gonna stuff you full of my cum again.”

your hands bring his head down to kiss you, your hands softly supping his cheeks as you do. your fingers wipe away at the nearly dried tears, bringing him as close to you as possible. when you pull away for air, he moans out, “came so many times to the thought of having you like this. fuck, all i’m gonna be able to think about is you falling apart on my cock.”

you nod, because he’s all you can think about right now. you can’t think anymore, he’s taken up all of your senses. all you can do is moan out his name, letting him fuck you in the way that he’s always wanted. “haechan, ‘m so close, please-” you cry, “need you to make me cum, wanna cum on your cock.”

he can barely put a sentence together, “yeah, fuck, gonna cum on my cock? gonna show me how bad you need me? have your pussy milk me of all my cum?”

his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, urging you to cum. “i can’t hold back anymore, baby,” you can feel him throb inside you, “need you to cum, let me cum with you.”

that’s all it takes for you to let out a whimper of his name, cries falling from your mouth as he fucks you to an orgasm. with how you’re squeezing his cock, it doesn’t take long for him to cum again, a high pitched whimper joining your sounds. he cums inside, fucking his sensitive cock inside you to ride out your orgasm.

he collapses on top of you, hot and sweaty as his breaths mix in with yours. you’ve never heard him this quiet, basking in your warmth as he enjoys the haze he’s in. you don’t bother moving, even as he starts to soften inside you. he nuzzles himself against your chest, pressing small kisses on your skin. his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, “thank you for everything. i mean it.”

you let out a faint laugh, “that’s sweet. i didn’t realize you could be this nice. thank you for giving me a chance.”

“i told you i was romantic. you were just too obsessed with me to notice.”

“you’re weird,” you scoff.

“you like it.”

“i do.”

when you both have time, you take turns on choosing places you both want to go to. haechan always offers to pay for any traveling fees, laughing when you suggest he’s practically your sugar daddy. after many months of meeting like this, it’s easy for you to confess to him. it’s even easier for him to wrap you in his arms, a kiss pressed to your cheek as he tells you feels the same way.

now, you’re both due for another trip. there was more of a wait between now and your last trip, finding yourself just as busy as haechan. when you finally have time to yourself, you realize that it’s your turn to choose a place to visit. you find yourself looking at a quieter city to indulge both you and haechan’s homebody trait.

of course, haechan makes it possible for you both to head over. when you had originally brought up the city, haechan showed some hesitance. when you question him, he responds with, “well… i have a friend over there.”

you ask if you can meet his friend, and after some thinking, haechan decides it’s okay for you two to meet. 

when you both walk around the city, exploring the shops they have to offer, you can tell haechan’s mood shifts. his eyes begin to scan around the small crowds of people, making sure no one is looking too hard at the both of you.

when you make a turn to another street, you’re met with a bigger shop, right in the middle of a junction. haechan stops you from going any further, letting you know that this is where his friend works. you eye the store, realizing that it’s a jewelry store. he takes your hand in his before stepping in, opening the door for the both of you.

he calls out to someone named mark, waiting near the entrance as you look around. there’s gold jewelry on display and other antiques all throughout the store. before you can ask haechan what this place really is, a man who looks just as young as haechan steps out, his confused face morphing into one of giddiness.

“it’s been forever, man! and is this- is this who you’ve been talking to me about?”

“shut up!” haechan whines, looking back towards you, “this is mark, someone who i work with.”

while mark is complaining about how they’re more than just coworkers, everything is hitting you all at once. you completely forgot that haechan works with other people, and you fully believed everyone else to be hackers. you wonder what a man in a jewelry store contributes to a group overall. you don’t bother asking now, not trying to ruin the reunion of two friends. 

it’s nice watching haechan talk to someone he’s comfortable with. you see a lot of him that you don’t normally see. you let them talk, joining in when mark tells you something to embarrass haechan. it never works out in mark’s favor, though, haechan immediately spilling mark’s secrets to you.

time passes by quickly in the store, mark telling you stories that have happened to him while taking care of the place. eventually, mark gets a call from the store’s phone, pulling him away from both you and haechan.

when the call ends, he sighs and looks at the both of you, “i have to go pick something up from this guy. will you guys be okay if i leave you here for a bit?”

you both nod, watching mark pick up a few things before getting ready to leave. he turns back suddenly before walking out, eyes narrowing at your boyfriend, “no funny business, haechan. i mean it.”

haechan raises his hands in defense, a sickly sweet smile on his face as he tells mark that there’s nothing he should be worried about. mark shakes his head and tells you both goodbye when he walks out. you both watch him walk away from the store, out of his sight.

it’s quiet for a few moments before haechan speaks, “do you think we can fuck in here?”

“haechan! where would we even do that? there’s cameras in here and the whole front is made of glass!”

you watch his eyes glance over the store before watching them land on the door labeled staff only. when you turn to look at him, he’s smiling at you innocently, as if you don’t already know what he’s thinking. you groan, “if you’re alright with a quickie, then okay.”

he takes no time to drag you inside the small staff room, locking the door behind him as he smirks at you, “let’s hurry before mark comes back.”

with haechan, you come to realize that you’re willing to do anything he wants.

a/n: JESUS i wrote this way too fast and now i have to stay away from google docs for at least a week... but anything for haechan... happy bday to that guy... ALSO THANK U TO @hrts4doie FOR BETA READING HEHE...

tags: @hxxchxn @sourkimchi @hcheach @axo-l0tl @hazyhae @taexoxosgf @hyuckdolle

[fujoshirat]

✩₊˚.Belated Housewarming—Literally!

Shouto Todoroki x reader

Summary: After your husband's job as a hero deprives you of intimacy and loving, you decide to make his birthday unforgettable with a heartfelt surprise that reminds him just how much he’s missing. The most important part of your plan? That damned lacy, frilly, pink apron hanging in your closet.

Warnings: A18+ (MINORS DNI), FILTHY smut, porn w/ plot, sex marathon, dom!Shouto and sub!reader, cursing, pet names, missionary, doggy style, squirting, oral (female receiving), upstanding citizen, three-legged stance, inappropriate use of a home but whatever floats your (Shouto’s) boat, breeding kink, domestic kink, temperature play, slight angst in the beginning but overall fluff and smut :)

Author's Note: Happy birthday to the man I fell in love with in 2020 ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The soft clunk of the dryer shutting off echoed through the quiet house, signaling the end of yet another cycle. Bending down, you toss the clean clothes into the laundry basket and walk to the dining table. The entire house is quiet, save for the soft sound of rain outside and the ruffling of clothes being folded.

Yup, this was your married life: silence in a punctual routine while living in an empty house that felt too large without your husband. For all the joy your wedding brought, no one had warned you how lonely it could feel to be married to the second-best pro hero in Japan.

And you have had enough!

It’s been one year since he proposed, 10 months since you moved in together, and 3 months since you both got married. You knew about what you were signing yourself up for. However, nothing could prepare you for what it was really like being married to a pro hero, no less the second best pro hero in all of Japan! A month after your wedding, Shouto had to hop on a plane to America for a mission with other pro heroes, leaving you alone in the house for three weeks. And in the weeks leading up to Christmas, Shouto would come home exhausted from work and patrol. It would be just past 11, just as you were tucking yourself in to bed (Shouto begged you to go to bed at an early time, even if he wasn’t home yet, but you found that hard to do), and your husband would open the front door. You would feel your heart skip: finally, he was home. But then, he’d stumble through the bedroom door with a tired sigh, eyes heavy with fatigue, and you could see the toll his day had taken on him. His uniform would be rumpled, his hair slightly damp from sweat and snow, and his pretty heterochromatic eyes would be soft and dazed as he quietly greeted you.

“Welcome home, Shou.”

“Tadaima.”

“Long day?”

“Mhm…”

“Are you hungry? I made chazuke for dinner earlier.”

“…”

“Perhaps a warm bath?”

“…”

You’d try to stay awake, to offer him something, anything that might lift his spirits—your smile, a warm meal, even a conversation. But all he seemed to need was sleep, and that’s what he’d do. He’d change into his pajamas (simple black shorts), kiss your forehead, and collapse into bed next to you (whose exhaustion was also a massive headache).

You were absolutely sexually frustrated and terribly missed your husband. As days went on, you longed for more than just his presence in the room. You wanted him. But the mission schedules, late night patrol shifts, and endless demands of Japan left you feeling distant.

Yeah, you were screwed.

And you couldn’t blame him. It had been his dream to become his own hero, not for his father, not to surpass All Might, but for himself. It was his calling, and the nature of his work, no, responsibility, naturally required much time and effort. However, you felt like it only widened the gap between you two as the days went on.

At least Christmas was decent. He finally took off time from work for the important holiday and stayed home with you for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Those two days consisted of cuddling on the couch, hours of talking while a random TV show played in the background. You also visited his family for Christmas Eve dinner and stayed home the entire time on Christmas day.

And now, it was January. It was a new year, but most importantly, Shouto’s birthday was fast approaching. You were sick of this abstinence, it needed to end already! The last time your husband had touched you was 4 months ago on your honeymoon! Grumbling to yourself, you dig a hand through the laundry basket until you find the matching sock and continue your folding. ‘Don’t be selfish, Y/N! You knew that marriage wouldn’t be picture perfect! Get a grip!! Ugh, but I’m so pent up! I need the affection!’

You must be ovulating or really really REALLY horny right now because look at you, arguing with your voices in your head! Sighing to yourself, you finish the last of your laundry and head upstairs to start putting it away. After doing so, you check the time on your phone, the lock screen a picture of you and Shouto cutting the wedding cake at your wedding (photo courtesy of Izuku), and it brings a wistful smile on your face. You looked so happy, and so did he. Shaking your head, you pout and check the time: 10:59am. Getting ready to put the laundry basket away so that you could figure out what to eat for lunch, you spot something in the corner of your eye in the closet.

Upon closer inspection, you open the closet door and see your pink, frilly cooking apron hanging. ‘Huh, weird, I must have been so tired cooking dinner last night that I threw it in here.’ Taking it out, you put it on mindlessly in preparation for in case you need to make lunch because there aren’t enough leftovers. As you walk past the mirror and to the bedroom door, you pause in your steps. Your eyes widen when you an idea comes to mind as you remember how you looked in the corner of your eye when you passed by the mirror.

The apron, with its delicate trim, was really nothing special. It was a simple, pink, frilly apron that you had bought before moving into the house with Shouto. However, in this instant, the delicate lace trim, extra pink bows, and its slightly playful charm instantly sparked a thought. You had always loved cooking for Shouto (and he loved your cooking too), but it wasn’t just about the meals anymore. It was about what you could do for him—what you could show him. You could almost picture the look on his face if he found you, wearing nothing but that apron, waiting for him to come home. That thought sent a thrill up your spine, and you quickly caught your breath, heart racing a little too fast for comfort.

That idea was what you needed, and you knew exactly when to do it and what to prepare. Running down the stairs, you eagerly check the pantry. ‘Y/N! You naughty girl! What are you thinking?’ God, you were mad, insane, the surge of excitement building up in your head like your bottled emotions these past few months. You make a mental note to buy more soy sauce and extra buckwheat noodles tomorrow on your daily grocery store run. It was currently January 03, and you had exactly one week to prepare for Shouto’s birthday. Your idea felt so right, so tantalizing. Surely Shouto was pent up as well? Prior to engagement or marriage, you two never avidly had sex, nor did you avoid it.

And it was his birthday, more importantly, his first birthday celebrated with his wife, you. You wanted it to be extra special, to be a sexy happy memory made in this house. You wanted to make the day about him, so why not kill two birds with one stone? Squealing to yourself, you start cooking up lunch while scrolling through Instagram to find the open hours of a bakery down the street.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

At 6:45am, you slipped out of bed as quietly as you could with as little movements as possible. Taking off your pajamas, you could feel the warm, tantalizing bed with the most handsome birthday boy on earth trying to entice you back to bed. But, no, you were stronger than this! You threw the silky pajamas in the hamper and easily put on your “lingerie:” the lacy, pink, frilly apron. Next, you brush your hair as neatly as possible and put on light blush and mascara to look even more delicious. You have to hold back a squeal when you look at your appearance in the mirror. The flimsy material covered enough to leave room for imagination as well as exposed your body just next to those enticing areas. You felt like the epitome of the balance of sweet and sultry—like Sabrina Carpenter concert outfits—exactly what you were going for!

Your thighs weren’t killing you as much as they did these past few days (you did 50 squats from January 03 to 09, and then 30 yesterday to soothe your poor muscles and give them a break before the real workout you desired). Squats are no joke, but anything to be closer to a BBL on this special day! Entering the kitchen, you open the fridge and pull out a simple, white box. You place it on the counter and hum to yourself, ‘Do I make the cold soba now? Or should I wait?’ You tapped a finger to your chin, glancing at the clock on the wall: 7:01 a.m. There was still plenty of time before you planned to wake Shouto up, so you decided you might as well start cooking. The sooner everything was ready, the smoother your plan would go (plus, you weren’t sure if your legs would be okay if you had to cook lunch in between ykw).

After making your husband’s favorite meal, you quickly throw it in the fridge and grab the cake. Running upstairs as quietly as you can, you let out a relieved sigh when you see that Shouto hasn’t woken up yet—still sprawled on his side, one arm tucked under your pillow (that was “pretending” to be you). Your heart pounded with excitement, and at 7:30am, you place the cake on the dresser. Leaning over, you gently brush a strand of hair from his face.

“Shouto,” you quietly murmur, “wake up, birthday boy.” He stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, his soft expression shifting as his brows furrowed slightly and his nose scrunched up. “Mmm…” You have to hold back a laugh—he’s so cute!

“Shouto,” you call a little louder, amusement evident in your tone, “time to wake up!”

This time, his mismatched eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep. His left hand reaches up to caress your cheek as his right hand rubs his eyes. For a moment, he blinked his sleepiness away, still looking up at your face.

He smiled tiredly, exhaustion from last night’s patrol evident, until, in the corner of his eye, Shouto swears that you’re wearing a tank top. Tilting his head slightly downward, his gaze lands on what you’re wearing.

“Good morning, and happy birthday!” you smile shyly, desperately trying to ignore the burning feeling in your cheeks. “Did you sleep well?” Face filled with confusion, his eyes wander down further, and he takes in what you’re wearing (or rather, not wearing)—just one article of clothing (if it could even be called that):

That damned lacy, frilly, pink apron that you use when cooking.

Pink dusts his cheeks, mouth opening to speak, then closing. Shouto was speechless, realizing what today’s occasion was.

“Y-you’re—” His voice gets caught in his dry throat, and he swallowed hard. “Y-you’re wearing just that?” You tilted your head innocently, pretending not to understand. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

Shouto blinked, his hand reaching out almost instinctively to rest lightly on your hip, his fingers brushing the soft ribbon tied around your waist. “No, nothing’s wrong,” he said softly, his voice barely above a murmur. You giggle at this and move his hand away. “Ah-ah-ah! That, is for later. Aren’t you hungry for breakfast? I got you a cake!” You cheerfully open the cake box and hold it up to him. The fluffy sponge and layers of whipped cream topped with plump, glistening strawberries all add to the strawberry shortcake’s appeal. You watch Shouto sit up straighter, eyes practically sparkling at his breakfast.

“Strawberry shortcake,” he murmurs, “my favorite.” You smile and stand a little closer to him. “I know! That’s why I got it-” Suddenly, you’re cut off when his palm grabs your plump flesh. Not expecting this, you slightly jolt in surprise and grip onto the cake so to not let the beautiful creation get destroyed.

“I want this cake for breakfast, Y/N.” His velvety, smooth tone sends shivers down your spine—and the smirk on Shouto’s face and his mismatched eyes full of mischief blatantly focused on the furious blush on your face tells you all that you need to know: That bastard knows that he’s doing!! “Shou!” You huff, voice wavering as you try to ignore your burning cheeks, “Behave yourself! Let me feed you your breakfast.”

Your husband visibly pouts but lets out a sigh and leans back slightly. Who was he to deny his pretty wife from feeding him? You smile triumphantly, setting the cake box on the nightstand and sliding onto the edge of the bed beside him. Grabbing a fork, you carefully cut a perfect bite from the Strawberry Shortcake, making sure to get just the right balance of sponge, cream, and strawberry.

“Open wide, birthday boy,” you quip cheerfully, holding the fork up to his lips. The man smiles and obediently opens his mouth. “Ah~” Taking a bite, his expression turns even softer. A soft hum of appreciation escapes his throat, making it known that the cake was delicious. “It’s really good, love. Thank you.” “Mhm! It’s no problem at all!” Waiting for him to finish chewing and swallow, you bite back a smirk as you prepare for the next bite.

It was time for part 2 of your plan.

Reaching over to the cake, you use the plastic butterknife (harmless, I promise!) to scoop up a little bit of the frosting from the cake. Your husband looks at you curiously, unsure of what you’re doing.

And then, the cool feeling of the sugary frosting hits just above the valley of your chest, right where the top of the apron above your cleavage is. To add the cherry on top (or should I say, strawberry hahahahaha okay fine i’m not funny ig sorry), you place a plump strawberry right in the middle of the cream. Shouto’s eyes widen, and it widens even further when you teasingly tug the apron a little lower to show off your bare body for a few seconds. Innocently, you look at your husband. “Shouto,” you speak sweetly, feigning innocence. “What’s wrong, love?” You watch him swallow. Hard. His gaze lingers on the frosting, then flickers back up to your face.

“I said I was gonna feed you, right?” You bite back a giggle when you notice his hands gripping the blanket.

“Come and eat, birthday boy.”

Shouto gulps, eyes glued to your chest, as he moves over to you. His strong arms wrap around your waist as his warm breath hits your collarbone. He looks up at you with lidded eyes as he slowly rubbed your hands along your exposed hips. “If I come and eat, I won’t let you escape, okay?” You couldn’t tell if your husband was horny or trying to be cute, but his cheeks were still painted that lovely shade of red. Not thinking much of it (have we learned nothing??), you nod. “Mhm! It’s your birthday breakfast, remember?” Shouto’s eyes darken as he moves his face close to your exposed breasts.

“Itadakimasu.”

Warm, wet muscle dances along the valley between your soft chest. Biting back a moan, your head tilts upward, hands flying to Shouto’s hair. “S-shou…” No response: the red and white haired man was too busy going down on your divine body. He licks off the whipped cream frosting and starts eating the strawberry. Suddenly, he nips at your soft skin, eliciting a yelp from you. “Shouto!” you chastise him, but he interrupts you with another bite.

“God,” he mutters, “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks flush red again and you bite your lip to stifle and noises. You don’t even notice that Shouto has finished the dessert on your body and is looking up at you with a lovestruck expression. His calloused hands rub small circles at your waist to calm you. “My love, are you alright? Was I too rough?” You nod and look at him with a smile. “I’m okay!” The man lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“You know, I really like this surprise. It’s been so long and I didn’t realize how much I was holding in.” His eyes look down a little shyly from his honesty, and your heart melts.

“Oh, darling, I’ve been pent up too.” You gently touch his cheek while Shouto’s eyes widen at the revelation. You’ve been pent up this entire time? “Since when?” You let out a gasp at the question and look away shyly.

“D-don’t laugh!” "I won't laugh, I promise," he says, his voice tender without any trace of mocking as he reaches up to lift your chin so you can meet his gaze.

“U-uhm… Since you left to America...” His eyes widen in shock. “That long?” You watch his face contort from one of shock to one of regret once realization hits him like a wave.

He had been neglecting you, and he didn’t mean it.

“Y/N, I…” He bites his lip and runs a hand through his hair, shorter than when you first met him. “Shit, I… I’m so sorry I didn’t notice-” “No, no, no! It’s okay, it’s not your fault!” You wave your hands around in front of you as you try to reassure him. “I just didn’t want to say anything or bother you because you’ve been so busy and tired and stressed and-!” Shouto cuts you off mid-frenzy-of-an-explanation by grabbing your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I should have noticed how much you were holding in,” he murmurs regretfully, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. He wasn’t frustrated with you, he was frustrated with himself. “God, how many times did I ignore you? Every time I went straight to bed from patrol? Shit, love, I…” Shouto’s voice falters, and you could see the guilt weighing on him.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he says quietly, his voice thick with regret. “I was so focused on missions, and I just... I didn’t see how badly you were hurting, how much you needed me here. I wasn’t there when you needed me most.” You have to blink back tears at his statement. What he said was true, but you didn’t want him to shoulder the blame. It wasn’t his fault. “Shouto,” you whisper, “It’s okay. I know how important your work is for you, and I support you.” He shakes his head, rendering you confused.

“No, Y/N, I should have made you my priority, not my work.” His eyes burn with fierce intensity, gazing into yours as if they were wishing stars.

“You are my priority, and as your husband, I’ve completely failed in showing you that you are my priority.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you sniffle. “D-don’t say that,” your voice is wobbly as you reach up to wipe a stray tear, “Y-you’re gonna make me cry and I worked hard on this makeup.” (thank god for waterproof mascara) He laughs at your attempt to lighten the mood and kisses his forehead. “You look beautiful, baby, you know that?” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips linger for a moment, and when he pulls back, there's a lightness in his gaze, something playful.

"Okay, okay, enough with the tears for now," you say, trying to change up the sappy, sad mood. You wipe your eyes and take a deep breath, giving him a small, teasing smile. "I wanted today to be special, so let's enjoy it. Plus..." You pause, the mischievous twinkle in your eye returning as you lean closer.

"I want you to make me cry for another reason."

Shouto’s eyes widen in surprise for a brief moment before he catches the playful spark in your gaze. A grin slowly spreads across his face, and a quiet chuckle escapes him. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but there's something else there too—a promise.

"Well, then, let’s see if I can make that happen."

Arms wrapping around you, Shouto presses his lips against yours. The kisses are soft at first, testing the waters and giving you the chance to back down (not that you were ever going to). But as the seconds go by, once your consistent kissing back makes it evident to your husband that you weren’t going to stop, the kisses become hungry and urgent.

His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue gently traces the line of your lips, begging for more. You respond in kind, your body melting against his, as you part your lips to let his tongue in. The heat between you both intensifies, every brush of his lips, every movement of his hands, making your heart race.

Suddenly, you pull back breathlessly. Shouto pants softly, eyes clouded with lust as the thick tent in his pants press into your bare pussy. You move your hips teasingly, grinding against him, drawing out a moan from your husband. “B-baby…” he murmurs out, squeezing your hips. You respond with a smile and reach down to remove his underwear. “If you’re okay with it, love, I’d like to take the lead this time.” Shouto’s eyes widen, but he smiles and nods.

“Okay, Y/N, but tell me if you need help or if it’s too much, okay?” Your heart warms at his offer, ever the gentleman, and you nod. “I don’t think I’ll need help but thank you, darling.”

Carefully, you lower your body down on his cock. You gasp when you feel his thick tip stretch your sweet cunt. He’s big, so so big and delicious. As your walls are practically split open, you have to go reeeeeally slow so to not hurt yourself. Hands gripping the sheets, you let out a slutty moan at the sensation. Your husband’s eyes are half-lidded, lust and love mixed together in the perfect ratio. He was only a little more than halfway in, and you already felt so full. Biting his lower lip, he gently reaches a hand over to hold your waist, thumb rubbing loving circles to help soothe whatever pain you may have been feeling (so sweet :( ).

And then, you go all the way up, just until only the tip is inside, and slam yourself down. Shouto lets out a choked, guttural moan, biting his lower lip. “F-Fuck…” His hands grip your waist tighter as he braces himself for more loving from you.

However, your hips do not move as he planned. Rather, they do not move at all and you remain planted on him. Slightly frustrated, Shouto looks up at you curiously.

“Love?”

There is a dangerous, mischievous glint in your eyes as you sweetly bat your pretty lashes at him, hips still not moving. “Yes, Shou?” Reaching over, you cut a piece of the cake and hold the fork up to his lips.

“You’re hungry, right? Say ‘ah’!” He frowns, clearly expecting you to ride him, but he obediently eats the cake. Swallowing, his fingers rub your waist. “Darling, are you going to move now?”

His frown deepens when you shake your head and hold up another forkful of cake to his mouth. “I can’t let my husband go hungry, right?” Before he can interrupt, you giggle. “We never really had a personal housewarming did we? Why not do it now?”

Oh, that’s what you’re plan was. Teasing him by fucking cockwarming him, a dirty move.

And Shouto Todoroki, as much as he loves you, does not like that.

Yeah, you probably should not have teased him so much, because strong hands grab your hips and lift you off your husband’s hard dick. Your back hits the soft mattress and you let out a soft “oof-!” The fork discarded onto the nightstand (a miracle it didn’t drop to the floor), Shouto’s darkened gaze pierces into your soul. Brows furrowed, his expression tells you all that you need to know: He’s had enough with your game, and it’s time for you to face the consequences.

Before you can protest, defend your playful teasing, his lips roughly press against yours, hungrily making out. He bites your bottom lip softly, hands roaming up and down your body, asking for permission to slip his tongue in. You open your mouth submissively, his wet muscle entering the warm cavern. His lips trail downwards to your jaw, nipping and kissing it, before settling onto your neck and biting the sensitive roughly. A whine escapes your throat, body burning with desire and need. “Shouto!! Haah, please…” Your body jolts with slight pain and pleasure when his left hand swats your ass, leaving a pinkish mark.

“Please what?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, feigning innocence as his fingers trail up your sides, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. “You were so confident earlier. What happened, hmm?”

“I… I didn’t mean it,” you stammer, your cheeks burning as you look up at him with wide eyes. “Don’t tease me, please…”

His smirk deepens, and he leans in again, this time pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your jaw, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Oh, but darling,” he purrs, his lips moving down to your neck as his hands tighten on your waist, holding you in place. The teasing tone he used while calling you such a sweet nickname makes your pussy clench around nothing, making even wetter. “Weren’t you just having fun teasing me?” Your eyes widen when one of his hands roughly pin your smaller hands down on the pillow above you.

Oh fuck, you were screwed.

Shouto lines up his shaft to your pussy, angry red tip swollen and leaking. He playfully slaps his cock on your clit, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“You know that I don’t like it when you tease me,” Shouto notes calmly, his eyes telling a different story. “Are you going to remember that next time? Or do I have to fuck you stupid to remember that, my sweet wife?”

Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sound of that nickname. But before you could respond Shouto begins to push the bulbous tip inside your tight hole. You throw your head back into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets at the stretch. Just the sheer stretch of his tip alone made your brain fuzzy. Shouto hisses at the feeling of your goey, tight walls. “D-damn, baby,” he breathes out, eyebrows furrowed sexily, “S-so fucking tight…” After a minute, he was balls deep, all of him buried inside your sweet pussy.

Yet, this was not enough for Shouto.

He slides himself all the way out (getting back at you), and rams himself back in. A soft cry escapes your throat, and Shouto almost hesitates to continue. However, your lewd expression and hips desperately moving to feel his cock move again quenches his fears of it being too much for you. He begins thrusting, pants and groans slipping out of his lips.

“Ah ahh—Shou—!! Y-you’re s-so deep-” Fat crystalline tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you whimper. Your husband suddenly thrusts harder, prompted by your comment. “Y-yeah baby, nice and—fuck—deep, gonna cum inside, okay?” Pupils practically heart-shaped, you nod eagerly.

“Yeshh-! Pleasepleaseplease-” Your husband continues mercilessly pounding into your sensitive cunt, soft thwacks! and squelching noises made from the way his mushroom tip kissed your cervix.

“Oh!! So—hngh!—good!!” Shouto toys your clit sweetly with a few circular brushes of his thumb against your neglected clit, pushing you over the edge. “Ahh-!! C-cummin’!!” Eyes squeezing shut, your pussy clenches around your husband’s dick, body jerking up in pleasure as you ride out your high. This seems to have pushed Shouto over the edge as well, because with a final thrust, he empties his balls in your sweet womb, filling you up with his hot, thick cum. Gently, you pull his face down to kiss you softly, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.

However, as you reach for a towel on the nightstand, beefy, muscular arms grab you and flip you over on your stomach. A pillow is pushed underneath your abdomen as Shouto lifts your hips up to his cock. “D-darling!?” You squeak in surprise, not expecting his actions. Suddenly, Shouto plunges his dick back into your pussy, cum dripping down and onto the bed. A pathetic sob escapes your throat, along with moans and whines. “T-Thought we were done—ah!”

“You thought we were finished? Love, you should know…” His voice drops down to a husky, seductive whisper when he leans down to your ear, warm breath ticking you. His cock twitches in your hole, keeping your gummy walls nice and warm and stretched.

“I fully intend on making this house a real home with you, and ensuring that your womb is nice and full is step one.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Currently, you were getting your brains fucked out in the kitchen, body practically sandwiched between the kitchen island and your husband. It had been hours since you both started going at it. Only your right leg was touching the ground, buckling knee desperately trying to support your body. Shouto was holding your left leg, one hand looped underneath the knee of your left leg and the other grabbing your slutty waist as he ruts his cock into your cunt.

You couldn’t even form a sentence, your moans and mewls and Shouto’s groans filling the house. Manicured nails gripping the countertop, a gasp escapes your throat when you feel the familiar tightening in your stomach. Eyes widening, you know what was up: you were going to cum for the nth time.

Your eyes trail to the bruises on your hips from how hard he had been gripping you, then to Shouto’s face. “S-Shouto,” you moan breathlessly, a gasp slipping from your lips when his pelvis begins thrusting faster. “C-Close!!” The smug man smirks, biting his lower lip sexily and pulling your body closer. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you feel an unfamiliar feeling begin to build up in your abdomen. Cock drilling your insides, kissing your sweet, spongy g-spot, Shouto continues pounding hard. “B-baby-!! Oh! Ahn-! GonnA-!!”

Suddenly, the pressure is too much for you and a strangled sob escapes your lips.

Translucent liquid splatters onto Shouto’s abs and pours onto the floor. When you realize what just happened, your blood runs cold. Shouto’s eyes widen when he realizes this as well and his movements stop.

“…”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then, blood rushes to your cheeks. Shit. You hide your face in your hands, groaning from embarrassment. “Shit-! Shouto! I-” You what? You couldn’t even say it.

You fucking squirted all over him and the kitchen floor.

Just when you’re about to spew out an endless number of apologies, the breath is knocked out of your lungs when Shouto’s hips start to move again. Your hands fly to grab at the marble countertop of the kitchen island again.

“Oh-! Ahn-! S-Shouto-!! Too much!!” The sensation was overwhelming, and you were still overstimulated from your recent climax. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh, kneading your waist.

“Hnngh-! I-Isn’t it—ngh—gross?” Your husband shakes his head, hips continuing to meet your pelvis, and a deep gasp escaping from his throat. “Not at all, love.” He pulls your waist closer to meet his hips, eliciting a sweet, harmonic moan from you. Leaning down, his hot breath hits your ear as he whispers seductively.

“It was hot.”

Your face burns from his honesty, not expecting his reaction. Whining, your eyes roll to the back of your head at the overwhelming sensation of a particularly harsh (yet pleasurable) thrust. Your blood boils in your veins as you tried to maintain your grip on the marble island top. Soft pants escape your husband’s lips, a curse word sprinkled in every now and then. Suddenly, Shouto bites his lip. He was getting close. Despite your lower half feeling like jello, you rocked your hips as best as you could to meet his hips, anything to get him close to finishing!

Through your clouded, fucked-out mind, you were still able to count how many times Shouto had finished so far today: four times (twice on the bed to fix your attitude, once in the bathroom when he was “cleaning you up,” and once on the stairs—wait… how did that even happen!?!?). “S-shou,” you pant out, one arm reaching up to wrap around his neck and stabilize yourself. “T-this is —ngh— s’pposed to be about you!” He smiles softly at your remark and slows down. Tenderly, he takes your other arm leaning on the kitchen island and has you wrap it around your neck as well. “I know, but I can’t help wanting to make you feel good.”

Without letting himself slip out of your heavenly folds, Shouto easily picks you up and carries you to the wall. The taller man pins you against it before resuming his lovely assault on your pussy. You writhe against him, babbling mindless nonsense and singing his name with your moans. You were so close again! Heat coils up in your abdomen again as you cling tighter to Shouto. His fingers dig even deeper, and he lets out a guttural moan.

“God, baby, y-you’re—fuck—divine.” His pace grew more erratic as he began thrusting faster. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you sob pathetically, nails digging into his back. Shouto’s mouth presses against yours yet again, hungrily kissing you. Your legs quiver and your body jolts in pleasure as you come again. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, sensitivity heightened from the overstimulation. A few seconds after, Shouto thrusts one last time and fills you up, hot cum flooding your tight walls. Your body shakes as you come down from your high, euphoria surging in your veins again.

Carefully, Shouto lets your legs touch the ground—not that that was any good (he just pounded you!), but hey, the thought counts, right? Still holding onto you, he kisses your forehead softly, body pressed up against your bare skin and the pink apron. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” You smile cheerfully and nod. “Mhm! My legs are a little sore, though.” Your gaze flickers down to the pool of fluids a few feet away from you, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Let me just go clean that up.”

Getting down on your knees, you unintentionally flash Shouto with your perky, round ass on full display (keep in mind, you’re still wearing that flimsy, probably crumbled up by now apron). Shouto gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches you grab a rag and wipe up your mess. Cum was still leaking from your cunt, dripping down your thighs and even leaving drops on the floor.

Just as you finish cleaning up your mess with a light, undignified blush, rough hands grab your waist and the familiar hard dick presses up against your ass. You gasp at the feeling. “S-Shouto?” Your response is an icy smack on your left ass cheek, making you yelp. “Shouto!” But before you could get mad at him further, your breath is knocked out of your lungs yet again when he slams his dick into your pussy. You fingers dig into the rag underneath you, knees wobbily trying to maintain balance on the hardwood floor.

“Hnngh!! Not again!!”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was only 11:51am, and sweet Jesus were you tired.

You felt like you did every position already: on the bed, on your knees, against the wall, bent over the countertop, on the fucking stairs!! You were exhausted! And to your right, the birthday boy was cheerfully slurping his cold soba noodles for his birthday lunch. You weren’t very hungry, but you took a few bites earlier (he practically forced you to eat, concerned for your well-being). It didn’t even look like he broke a sweat, the only evidence of your nasty morning being the scratch marks on his back.

As you take a sip of water, your husband sneaks glances at you. Eyes full of concern and worry, he observes the various bruises, hickeys, and the state of your apron.

Right, that damn apron.

It was a wonderful surprise, a surprise that Shouto would have never thought would ever greet him in the morning, even more so his birthday. If he were to ever tell his first-year high school self of this life, he would probably scoff and tell him to focus on his hero career. But right now, as he looks at you—the person who’s turned his house into a home (and the reason why he even has a big house like this #proposal)— he can’t imagine anything better than this. Finishing his lunch, he places the plate down before wrapping his muscular, warm arms around you. Shouto presses a soft kiss to your forehead, eyes on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice is soft and tender, full of love that makes your heart melt.

“Mhm!” You quip cheerfully and place the glass down. “I told you, I’m not hungry. You worry too much baby.” “I’m allowed to worry,” he murmurs, his hand resting against your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Especially when it’s about you.”

Your heart swells at the sincerity in his voice, and you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you say with a smile, looking up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “You’ll have to put up with me for a while. ‘Till death,' you know?”

His lips curl into a small smile at the reference to your vows, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

‘Till death’ was what he had promised. ‘I promise to love you until death, until death do us part. Yet I will love you even after death, for an aeon of eternity.’

And everyone knows that Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job. Especially as your husband. Looking back at your adorable figure, his smile reverts to a frown when he spots that lacy, frilly, pink apron.

Right, that damn apron.

The sight of it stirs a conflicting swirl of emotions in Shouto. On one hand, it’s adorable—seeing you proudly donning the frilly, slightly-too-thin fabric while bustling around the house for his birthday. But on the other hand... it’s too flimsy, too distracting, and it’s been on you for too long. It takes everything in him not to reach out and tug it off, not because he’s impatient but because it feels like the apron is mocking his already limited self-control. ‘You might be upset,’ he thinks to himself, lips pressed together in a thin line. Shouto knows how much effort and planning you’ve put into your plans today, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

But at the same time, he wants to see you fully naked, bathed in your usual goddess beauty, all unwrapped just for him.

Besides, it was fine, right? That poor article of clothing needed a break: cum stains everywhere, smelling like a mix of Sol De Janeiro cherirosa and sweat from your lovemaking. It was crumpled up in areas too, no matter how much you tried to smooth it out.

The final string of restraint snaps in him when you put his empty plate in the sink, cute ass on display once again. Before you know it, the knot of the apron is undone and you’re tossed onto the couch.

“Shouto!” You huff, voice full of surprise. But before you can continue your complaining, the pink apron is pull off of your body and tossed to some corner of the living room. Shouto eyes you hungrily, like a wolf looking at his prey. You swallow nervously.

“B-baby?” His hand moves to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with surprising tenderness. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice softer now but no less earnest. “And I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.” He begins pressing featherlike kisses to your body, making you giggle and smile.

You were not prepared for what was coming next.

Cold fingers teasing your entrance suddenly press down on your clit, making you scream. You’re soaking wet again, face burning. “My lunch was delicious, like how you always make it,” your husband notes, teasing your hole by rubbing his hot fingers along your entire slit (from clit to ass).

“But I want to eat my dessert now.”

Your cunt makes embarrassing squelches and sounds, music to Shouto’s ears as he continues to eat you out on the couch. It’s been how long? 5 minutes? 10 minutes? 20? His tongue swipes your sweet bud while his middle and ring finger curl slightly and hit just the right spot. Shouto’s name tumble out of your mouth, recited like a prayer. At a particularly rough suck on your clit, your hands fly to Shouto’s hair, gripping it tightly. He moans at the feeling and flicks the bud teasingly. This sends you over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head and thighs spasming around your husband’s head.

Pulling his head away from your womanhood, he gives it a light, playful slap, watching your thighs jolt up. “S-Shouto!” You scold him lightly, out of breath. That was your third orgasm from just his fingers and tongue alone. He chuckles and reaches over to kiss you. “Sorry, love, I was just teasing.” Sweetly, he helps you sit up on the couch and rubs your arms to soothe you.

He presses a gentle kiss to your temple and pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “You’ve made today perfect,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “And I want to spend the rest of it making you feel just as special.”

Your heart swells at his words for like the fifth time today, and you relax against him, the earlier tension melting away. “You always make me feel special, love.” your tone is filled with warmth as you gaze up at your husband’s perfectly mismatched eyes.

As he lets you cool down, Shouto turns on the TV to check the news. After a few minutes, you suddenly get an idea that you almost forgot about in your plan.

“Shouto?” you quip, gently tapping on his shoulder. He looks at you with a curious look. “Yes, love?” You grin, twirling your hair with a finger.

“There is one more place we haven’t quite warmed up yet.” Eyes filled with curiosity, he watches you stand up start walking. Shouto frowns and puts the remote down before following you. “Love? Where are you going?” Like a lost puppy, he follows you around the house.

You open the laundry room and walk to the washing machine. All of a sudden, you grab a dirty laundry basket and drop down to your knees. Digging your hands through the clothes, you begin tossing the clothing into the machine. “Y/N? Let me help y-”

All of a sudden, you stick your upper half inside, your bare butt on full display. Shouto’s jaw drops, throat drying up. You wiggle your legs in mock distress, fighting the smile on your face.

“Honey! I think I’m stuck in here. Can you help me out?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[strange-dreams-are-made-of-these]

Your Heart Fits Like A Key

Summary: Your ex boyfriend is your knight in shining armor rescuing you after a bad date. There's nobody else like Logan, and you finally see it. This is imagined with 2013 Logan in mind, but any Logan could work Warnings: MDNI!!! its porn without plot. Logan receives road head, afab!female reader, reader receives oral, pet names (baby, baby girl, princess), car sex, logan talks reader through it, not proofread, no use of y/n Word Count: 3.7k+

You blamed yourself for not checking the weather report before getting ready for your date today. Westchester County was huge, but the upper part of the county wasn't the kindest to pedestrians. Granted, you did have a car, but good ole Casper the white Dodge was sitting in the shop still waiting on that part needed to fix the transmission. Had you lived closer to the southern end of the county you could have at least been within decent walking range of the subways and trains that made the lives of New York City's residents easier.

Your phone buzzed again on your bathroom counter as you plucked the stray eyebrow hair between your brow and temple. As you looked down, you saw his name, and a flutter rose in your chest. You shook your head, deciding to answer it. "You would have thought that after i didn't answer your third call you would have thought I didn't want to talk to you."

A gruff filled the space in a response. "What can I say? If I'm known to be anything, its protective. Something could have been wrong and I would have to come and save you"

"Did you mean protective or possessive?" You asked, though not able to get rid of the smirk that crept up on your face.

"There's a very fine line between the two, darlin'." he cooed into the phone, sounding just as smooth as his line delivery.

It had been nearly a year since you and Logan broke up, yet he couldn't quite just leave you alone. It wasn't just that you two dated for two years, two wonderful years filled with love and domesticity, and the occasional fight between the forces of good and evil. You weren't much one to fight with the team known as the X-Men. Your powers occur in the cases of near accidents or without much effort. Probability field manipulation made it nearly impossible for you to receive a scratch or bruise.

Which was ironic due to your lack of success in your dating life after Logan. What was that saying about being unlucky in love?

"I'd love to stay and chit-chat with you, Logan-"

"Perfect, let's have dinner tonight at Lucky's." You could barley hear the jingling of keys in his hand, as if he was spinning them around in his finger.

You rested one hand on the bathroom counter, dropping your jaw slightly before speaking again. "I can't. I'm already going out tonight."

The keys stopped spinning and an audible change could be heard in his tone. "I'm sure the girls from work won't mind having a scary dog privilege around, or whatever you girls are saying these days."

"It's not with the girls, or with coworkers." You looked at yourself int he mirror, then pressing your brows together. Why did you tell him that?

Logan hummed on the other side of the phone, not a jovial one. "So, some slob is taking you out tonight?" He asked you.

You didn't think Jake to be a slob, except for the inappropriate water cooler bathroom humor, but he was nice and somewhat good looking.

Not as good looking as Logan though.

"Nothing too crazy. Just pizza and a walk." As you looked at your dress in the mirror, you knew you were overdressed, but you couldn't help yourself. It had been ages since you last wore the dress, and it was the perfect combination of being short enough to leave the mind wanting more and hugging your curves in the right way.

"Sounds like he can't afford to take you on a proper date. Who knows what else he can't properly do." Logan replied, knowing the sound of his voice was already driving you wild. He could imagine your face now, how soft your eyes would be as he looked down at you.

You knew the voice he was using was his bedroom voice, and it drove you mad. To feel his arms wrap around your waist and pull you back into his hold, to feel his lips dance across your cheeks and ears, nibbling the lobes had sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, how you missed him dearly.

"Too bad you'll never know." You responded, trying to force the thoughts of Logan out of your mind.

"We'll see, princess."

–

Later that night, you and Jake had sat in Martin and Rocco's pizzeria, a little place you enjoyed from time to time. Jake had showed up not only half an hour late, but he decided to wear an ill-fitting grey t-shirt and baggy jeans. His hair looked as if he had just rolled out of his bed. All while you were in the slim red dress with your black leather jacket tucked on your lap.

Jake had been laughing rather loud and ruthlessly, spitting food out as he did so. It left a sour taste in your mouth as you protectively shielded your glass of red wine from his debris. The waiter came back asking about your check. "It'll be one, bro." Jake spoke. The waiter nodded, handing the printed check over to Jake. He shook his head, then pointed at you. You looked at him dumbfounded as the waiter left.

"Why are you pointing at me?" You asked him.

He threw his hands up. "Don't look at me. This was your idea." He sounded rather confident, making your blood boil.

"I don't mind paying for my own, I would rather pay for my own. I'm not paying for you." You spoke firmly, clutching your purse. Now the bill wasn't large at all. A medium-sized pizza that you ate only one slice of as he consumed the rest, your one glass of wine, and his three beers came to around forty-five dollars before tip. "I'll pay for the drinks, no problem. I'm not paying for a pizza I barely touched."

Jake narrowed his eyes at you. "This date was your idea. Why do you think I didn't bring my wallet? Just my I.D." He asked you again.

Eyeing the rest of the wine in your glass, you looked back at Jake. The highest road to take would be to pay for the meal, tip the waiter, and never speak to Jake again.

But you never were one to take the high road.

Hanging your jacket over your arm, you stand up and walk over to Jake. "You know what?" You swirled the red liquid in your glass, watching as it stained the sides temporarily. "He's right... You wouldn't know how to treat me right." You turned to look at him, changing your posture. "Suck a bag of dicks." You then turn the glass over in your hand, drenching your pathetic date in the rest of your wine.

He wiped his eyes, making a scene of himself as you walked away. You spoke to the waiter, making sure to pay for the drinks and tip him as you said you would, then leaving the staff to take care of the rest.

You felt a newfound sense of confidence as your hips swayed leaving the restaurant and putting on your jacket.

Then the rain started to soak your hair. The confidence started to fade as you then remembered to had to use an Uber to get to the restaurant because your car was in the shop. You sighed loudly, turning on your heel to begin your long walk home.

A car pulled up toward you as the passenger window rolled down. "Need a ride, baby?"

You looked over, feeling defeated that Logan had found you. Of course, he would, like he did with all of your previous dates. "I'm good." You lied.

You knew better, he could tell by the way your cheeks had been red, even under the street lights, that something was wrong. Logan got out of the car, shutting the door before walking around, opening the passenger door, shielding it from the rain. "You sure about that?"

Option A: Tell Logan, the honest love of your life, to leave you alone and continue to walk home.

Option B: stick around until Jake comes out of the restaurant smelling like the house wine special for the night and risk watching Logan beat the shit out of him.

Option C: Accept the universe's way of telling you everything will be alright.

You pull your jacket around you a little tighter as you turn and approach Logan and his car. You look up at him, placing a hand on his cheek and gently patting it. Before you could sink into the seat, he gently grabbed ahold of your wrist, bringing it to his lips and pressing those perfectly soft lips to the inside of your wrist as he kissed it.

After making sure you were in the car, Logan closed the door, walked around the front of the car, and entered the driver's side. As he turned the engine back over, police sirens could be heard in the distance. "What's going on?" He asked watching as they approached the pizzeria and a couple of cops entered the restaurant.

"Well, if we don't get out of here, I may end up in handcuffs.” You sighed, your chest rising and falling harshly. “Not in the good way.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s my girl.” He turned the wheel, quickly speeding out of the parking spot.

He rested one hand on the steering wheel, the other was on the gearshift as he comfortably sped down the roads of the town you called home. You ignored the burning pit in your stomach, reaching into your bag and pulling out your perfume. It was a small bottle with a roller ball, applying it on your wrists and neck. Logan looked over at you, smirking. “You’re too dolled up for that slouch, Doll.” He spoke, then peering back at the road.

You hummed a little, then resting your elbow on the side door, pressing your temple on your hand as you looked over at him. “What can I say? I wanted to dress up for somebody.” But Jake was the wrong somebody.

“When you feel the need to dress up, just call me.” He spoke lowly, turning down the scenic route on the backside of the town.

You knew what he was doing, what he had planned from the time you spoke to him on the phone. After the night you had, you weren’t going to deny your knight on his white horse the pleasure of making you happy.

You knew it made him happy too, something you craved. Nobody else you have ever met was Logan. Nobody was going to be Logan. It was impossible.

“You know, I’m more than just a pretty little girl to look at, Logan.” Your left hand reached over slowly to rest on his jeans. His perfectly fitting jeans, matching with the dark button up he wore. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. His face remained pointed at the road, his eyes looking down at your hand as you finally reach to ghost over his clothed erection. He bit his lip, quickly closing his eyes as you palm him over his jeans. “I can be evil.” You coo, leaning over as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

Logan sucked in a deep breath, now placing both hands on the steering wheel. “You already torment me, princess.” He responded, now looking over at you.

You shift in your seat, now pressing both knees on the seat bottom, your hands busy unbuckling his belt. Your fingers rested on the button of his jeans as you look up at him, a devious glare in both of your eyes. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

His eyes searched yours, triangulating your eyes and lips. “Come back to me.” He whispered to your lips before you could capture them in yours. Falling back into your vicious cycle, your lips mold well with his you give into your desires.

Logan pulls away only to look at the road. This gives you enough time to unbutton and unzip his jeans. You slip your hand down his boxers, taking a hold of his girth as you bring it to the surface. You lick your lips, then pooling some more saliva in your mouth, spitting on him. As you lower down to him, your lips meet his red tip, already leaking pre-cum, and kiss him a couple times. This earned you an approving groan from Logan, who drew his lips into a thin line as he focused on the road.

You lick down his veins, then kiss up his shaft, feeling the heat in your belly grow into something different. You took Logan in your mouth, tongue wrapping around his length as you went down on him. You felt his hand then lace a crown in your hair as you bobbed up and down on him, sucking him the way he deserved.

“Good girl,” He practically purred, making your thighs shake in response. One of your hands braced yourself on his leg, knowing if you reached for yourself Logan would tear into you. The other hand reached for his balls, thumbing the skin as you massaged him. Logan began to speed, the sensation of you taking all of him without a gag reflex was pure ecstasy to him. He groaned out, huffing harshly as he praised you. Warm, velvety ropes of cum filled your mouth and throat as Logan breathed heavily. It was sweet heavenly music to your ears as you worked him through his orgasm, feeling your core deprived of attention.

“Fuck this.” Logan spoke harshly, taking another turn down a dirt road. He pulled the car into a space off the side of the dirt road, turning it off as you left go of him as you lick up the rest of his cum. “My girl needs me.” He spoke again, pulling the level on his seat back. The seat scooted all the way back before he grabbed both of your hips, practically pulling you into his lap. “You need me, don’t you baby?” He asked you, bushing your hair out of your face as you straddled him.

You had long discarded the leather jacket to the passenger seat floor, resting both of your hands on his shoulders. You nodded quickly, licking your lips feeling yourself quake over his body. “Take me to bed, or lose me forever.” You whisper between the two of you.

This sent chills down his spine as one hand raced up your spine, grabbing you by the neck and pulling your faces to each other, grabbing you in a passionate kiss. A hungry one. A desperate one. He never wanted to let you go, never again. He would gladly taking a beating every day if it meant he could hold you life this again.

His free hand reached between your bodies, unsheathing one claw to cut through your underwear. The delicate lace fell between the both of you in shreds. “I just bought those.” You complained as you broke the kiss for air.

Logan then lowered the seat back giving you both room. “I’ll buy you new ones.” He promised.

Both his and your hands reached for the back of the dress, pulling the zipper down. Logan was faster pulling it off of your body, his eyes scanning over your body once again. Like a child in a candy store, he stared in awe as you were now only clothed in your bra. Your hands made quick work of his shirt, ripping the buttons apart as the scattered around the car’s interior. “You’re not the only one with money.” you retort, now pressing your lips to his, then lining kiss to his jaw and down his neck.

One of his arms braces you, holding him closer to you as the other hand now begins to give you attention. His index and middle fingers part your folds, bringing a moan from you as you bury yourself between his neck and shoulder. “I got you, princess. I’ll work you through it.” He whispered in your ear, feeling your hips buck up into hand. His palm rubs against your core, soaked in your pre-cum as your body shivers in his. “Gotta get your ready for me, baby.” You gasp into his shoulder, lips now splayed on his shoulder as you wrap your arms around him. His finger and thumb pinch the delicate flesh of your clit, making you buck again. He used your bucking to his advantage, pressing two fingers into you. “Just like that. You take me so well.” He rubbed your gummy walls, feeling you already clench around him.

“Lo-Logan… please.”

You feel the rumble in his chest, how your chest begins to quickly rise and fall into his as you plead with him. He wonders if you will ever find out how cute you are begging him. “Please what, princess?”

You pull away from his shoulder, grinding your hips against his fingers, your bottom lip quivering. “Please fuck me.”

His lips crashed onto yours again as he removed his hand, stroking it over his length before guiding himself toward your entrance. You both sigh at the same time when he presses his tip in. His hands find your hips, grabbing handfuls of your skin as you skin onto him. You busy yourself with kissed to his hairy pecs as you roll your hips over him, bouncing on his length. Logan’s head dipped back, closing his eyes briefly. He looked up at your face, your jaw dropped again as your hands rest on his stomach to brace yourself. “Good-Good girl.” He then reached up to your bra, unsheathing his claws again and he sliced it off of your body. Once off, his hands reached your your breasts, palming your nipples, pulling your breasts together and pinching your nipples.

You bounced more on him, feeling the car rock with your movements as you clench around him, not even a whole three minutes in and your are already weak for this man.

Logan must have sensed this as he then pulled you off of him, carefully and skillfully he maneuvered you to the back seat, setting you on your back. He shimmed around, moving his head between your thighs, lining kisses from the middle of your thigh down to your core, suckling your clit as he slung on of your legs over his shoulder. You brought your hands up to your face, covering your eyes before dragging down your cheeks, then lips, then neck. “LOG-ah!” You called out as he pressed further into your core, his tongue lathing up your undoing.

As your breathed heavily recovering front our high, he continued to pamper you with kisses. Kissed from your core up to your belly button, to your sternum as his nose danced between your breasts, his arms now reaching up to cage you in after throwing both your legs over his shoulders. “It’s time to let me take care of you.”

He pressed himself inside of you again in one harsh thrust, picking the pace up as your joined bodies moved in unison. Your hands reached to cup his face as you breathed heavily in each others face, chasing another high together.

Oh how you missed Logan, and how he knows how to treat a lady.

It felt so right, all of it. Your mascara began to run down your face. Logan wiped your face with his thumb. “It’s okay, pretty girl. You’re fine. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He soothed you.

“I-I’m gon-” You scrunch your face before looking back up at him.

“Cum for me, princess.” He commanded. AS your coil came undone again, Logan’s lips met yours, causing you to moan into his face as he rode your high out on him. Your cries of pleasure fill the car as Logan’s release fell over him. Your pussy milking him for all he was worth. Logan hovered above you as you both came down from your highs, clinging onto each other tightly.

Once things began to settle for the both of you, He removed himself from you, then shifting you around to where you were now resting on top of him. His arms wrapped around your lower back and the back of your head while yours laid on the sides of his chest. Your breathing and heart beats began to slow down to as the buzz filled your head.

After a few minutes of silence, and one long over due fuck session, Logan broken the silence. “What did you mean earlier? When you said take me to bed or lose me forever?”

You looked up at him, adjusting yourself to be able to look at his eyes as you spoke. “You were right. He was a slob, and he didn’t know how to treat me.” You look as if you were caught in thought as your finger traced a figure eight on his chest, causing Logan to look at you in his usual inquiring way. “Nobody will ever be you.”

This caused him to laugh, fog inside the windows growing at the statement. “Here, I was thinking you had watched Top Gun and wanted to be cheesy.”

You narrowed one eyebrow at him, a flirty smirk growing on your face. “You’re no Goose, but you sure are a big stud, Wolverine.”

Logan nodded, the hand resting on your lower back slowly ran up and down your spine. “So, about Lucky’s?”

You hummed a little thinking about the events of the night. “Tomorrow. I’m quitting my job, no thanks to Jake. So any time after noon?”

Logan nodded, accepting the terms of the date. He then cocked his head at you, tsking you and wagging a finger. “You remembered his name, baby girl. That means I need to fuck it out of you again.”

“Maybe in a bed next time? Or a shower?” You ask him, knowing your addiction to this man was a hard one to break.

He stared at you, his face turning soft as he nodded. “Come here.” He whispered. You were more than happy to oblige, pressing your lips to his again.

Oh yes, Logan Howlett was a man of many talents. But one thing you were more than thankful for was his way of loving you harder outside of your relationship.

[basicallyreigenarataka]

lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna

chapter 7: sukunas roommate

summary: sukuna brings you to his apartment so things don’t escalate with gojo and geto, there you meet his roommate.

* ooc, toji is shameless, crack, MDNI (a bit suggestive), NOT proof read 💔, lowkey i just am making the plot as i go sorry if it doesn’t make sense anymore i like adding random plot twists 💔

masterlist. prev. next

“um. if you don’t mind me asking… why is your roommates contact image frankie from shark tales?” you said between breathless giggles. you were too giggly to worry if the text you sent from sukunas phone sounded like sukuna or not. from the way he texted you, you assumed dry and cold. you hoped you pulled it off.

you were a giggling mess. this was so stupid. this huge, scary guy gave you his phone- willingly- to text his roommate you’d be coming over, and his profile picture is frankie from shark tales??? is sukuna secretly really funny?

your giggles seemed to be contagious, as sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle too. only chuckle, never actually laugh. you didn’t know why.

“he kinda looks like him. it’s a joke my friend uraume and i have.”

uraume? you’ve heard that name before. was it from the argument between shoko and geto? you think so.

that would make sense, actually.. you began to realize, your five brain cells working together to piece that shoko wasn’t the one to get sukuna to beat up gojo- but uraume.

you just giggled in response, looking down at the phone with curiosity by how much this man- toji, was blowing up his phone.

“should i-“ you were about to ask if you should respond to him, but sukuna was quick to shake his dead. “don’t.”

you nodded, biting your lip once more. you didn’t know how to respond to him, unsure if he was mad at you.

you took once glance at his stoic face, a flash of something mean in his eyes. for the millionth time this night, you curled into yourself, self conscious it was your doing to make him so mad.

sukuna is always sensing your discomfort. it made you feel bad for being so sensitive, and when he turned to give you a small, reassuring smile, your worry drowned away.

you were curious to what toji was saying, the phone was still buzzing with notifications from his number… was toji mad that sukuna was bringing you home on such short notice? or- oh no- what if he thought you two were hooking up?!

you must’ve been blushing furiously, because sukuna asked you if you were hot. you lied, telling him you were as an excuse, and without second thought he turned the ac on full blast.

you sat in silence for the rest of the ride, comfortable silence. you were fiddling with your phone, anxiously waiting for a text from gojo or geto, but it never came, much to your satisfaction.

when you arrived, sukuna stepped out of the car. “stay in here for a moment, i just have to call my roommate.” you nodded, noticing the way he locked his car after departing to call toji. did he seriously trust you to not steal his car right now? not that you were going to, but wow, he held a lot of faith in you!

sukuna groaned as he texted toji, a stressed hand running down his face. no way this douche just asked if she was single. he grumbled to himself as he hit toji’s contact and called him.

“yo,” toji spoke, his speech muffled around whatever food he was chewing.

“don’t be weird,” sukuna immediately said, voice cold. “i’m bringing her up now.”

before toji could retort, sukuna hung up. he didn’t want you to think he was taking too long.

moving to the passenger side door, sukuna unlocked his car and took your hand gently, “you okay?” he asked, voice gruff, as if he wasn’t sure how to sound friendly.

“mhm.” you nodded, “thank you for letting me stay tonight,” you smiled sheepishly, taking his hand with an appreciative smile and stepping out.

sukuna had to look away to hide his creeping blush.

“my roommates name is toji.” he began a conversation as he lead you up the complex’s multitude of stairs. “he’s fucking stupid, just ignore him.”

you just giggled in response, nervous yet oddly excited to meet this toji.

when you reached his door, sukuna opened the door for you. you didn’t expect him to be such a gentleman, considering his appearance. maybe it was wrong to judge a book by its cover.

“hey,” a surprisingly deeper voice called out, though it held more emotion than sukunas did.

“hi,” you waved shyly when you caught a glimpse of his roommate. you remember him from your psychology class. sukuna was right, he does kinda look like frankie from shark tales. you stifled a giggle.

toji immediately cracked a smirk at your shy behavior. it felt somewhat predatory… you didn’t know if you should be scared or turned on.

sukunas arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in the moment toji’s eyes wandered over your figure. he shot toji a warning glare, as if to silently say, she’s off limits.

but toji didn’t play fair, sukuna knew that.

“you brought home a pretty lil thing,” toji spoke mischievously, clearly trying to egg sukuna on. you blushed furiously at the comment, unsure if you should say thank you or stay silent.

“i told you toji, it’s not like that.” sukuna sighed, his grip around your waist tightening.

“looks like it,” toji whistled, glancing between your waist and his hand.

you shook your head, stammering slightly as you spoke, “no, no. he’s just… helping me out, tonight. i won’t be here again, i’m sorry.”

sukuna was about to scold you for apologizing, telling you there’s no need to and he invited you, but toji beat him to it.

“don’t apologize. i’d like to see you here again, under different circumstances.” he shot you a wink that had your knees weak.

you didn’t want to question what those ‘different circumstances’ were, but you were sure he was flirting.

sukuna growled, again. that same noise that had you both terrified and aroused.

“don’t say that shit,” he groaned, hitting toji’s shoulder. sukuna took your hand, practically yanking you along with him.

“like i said, ignore him.” he spoke, you could practically hear the way he gritted his teeth. he looked… jealous.

you just nodded, still bright red as you hummed along. “mhm.”

“do you need to take a shower?” sukuna asked, leading you to the bathroom. you smiled appreciatively, “that would be nice.”

though, walking into the men’s shared bathroom, you realized it would in fact not be nice. six in one? was this even legal? this couldn’t be fda approved.

you desperately wished you had your strawberry tree hut body scrub, your precious shampoo and conditioner, and at least a bar of soap! you’d also like some exfoliator and moisturizer, but they weren’t needs.

you have sukuna a ‘really?’ look, and, for the first time that night, he actually laughed.

“okay, order whatever you need.” he said, tossing you his phone as if it belonged to you.

“huh?” you blinked, eyes wide as you stared at him incredulously.

“my cards linked, just get what you need.” he spoke casually, as if this was normal.

you were about to reject his offer, tell him you could pay, but toji (of course) came in to ruin the moment.

“oh doll? you still showering? can i join?” he spoke, his voice low and flirtatious as he didn’t wait for a response, simply waltzing in. you didn’t know what made you blush more, the nickname or his obvious intentions of wanting to fuck.

sukuna looked like he was going to kill a man. that man being toji.

“ohhh i see, you’re already showering with sukuna. i’m sure you can make room for three.”

you choked on a laugh. even if you were interested (which, maybe you were. a little). the thought of both of these men in the same dinky shower together was hilarious. no way would there be room with even just the two of them, nevermind you.

“what’s so funny, dollface?”

“toji.”

sukunas voice had an edge to it you only heard once. when you told him about gojo and getos plans to intercept them in the car.

toji looked a bit taken aback, a scowl on his face now, mirroring sukunas.

“you’re no fun.” toji said after sizing his roommate up, leaving the bathroom, not without slamming the door. how petty.

you bit your lower lip, glancing between sukuna and the door that was just slammed in their faces.

“sorry about him.” sukuna spoke up, sighing. “buy whatever you want. don’t worry about how much it is.”

you frowned, “i’m going to send you the money back either way. besides, i use a lot of products, so it’ll hurt your wallet if i didn’t pay you back.” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood after whatever the fuck just happened.

“i’d rather it hurt my wallet than yours. just get whatever you usually use, i don’t care.”

and with that, sukuna left the bathroom. now you were all alone in two strangers apartment, stuck in the bathroom with one of their phones.

you didn’t know how someone could be so nice yet so cold at the same time. it was like he was a walking contradiction. was he upset with toji?

you could tell him you didn’t care, because truthfully you didn’t. yea, it definitely flustered you a bit (a lot), but it’s not like it made you feel unsafe.

you looked for your typical items, soap, body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. sure, you’d love to have a body scrub, exfoliator, and moisturizer too, but you didn’t want to kill this poor guys wallet.

you opted for cheaper options, though still finding things with your signature strawberry scent.

you felt a bit guilty as you checked out for delivery. you should probably pay back sukuna some how- for giving you a ride, a place to stay for the night, and free shower products.

when you exited the bathroom to return sukunas phone, he was nowhere to be seen. neither was roommate, toji.

this was even more awkward than hiding in their bathroom, you thought.

was it rude to sit on their couch uninvited? you wondered, plopping yourself down regardless. you noticed netflix was still open, whoever was watching was halfway through the first season of squid games.

you fiddled with sukunas phone, impatiently waiting for either of the two boys to come back so you didn’t feel so awkward. though a notification from your phone made you jump, quickly settling down sukunas phone to check yours.

guys this photo is genuinely the funniest thing i’ve ever seen i love it so much

tag list

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[folkwhoredoll]

mutual frustrations - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: keeping your temper and hormones in control is neither yours nor your boyfriend's strength

word count: 1.6k

warnings/tags: smut! (f masturbation, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism), slight dom!bf rafe

a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"What the hell is your problem, huh?"

Rafe had been frustrated all day. His dad had been yelling at him since early morning, Barry wouldn't stop calling him, and a brief fight with his sister for running off with her Pogue friends had pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that you had been snappy all day, either. It started with your short and sarcastic replies to his questions, and he grew tired of seeing your eyes roll and your deep sighs.

Truth be told, you weren't doing it on purpose. You were just craving his attention, and your frustration over his frequent disappearances to whatever business he had to attend to was carelessly reflected through your actions.

"Seriously! Where did this attitude come from?" he said, raising his voice slightly but not yelling.

"Well, I wouldn't have a problem if you just noticed me, Rafe!" You grumbled.

"Are you fucking joking? I have literally been talking to you, but you were the one who refused to answer me properly!" Rafe seethed.

"Oh, please. The first time that you acknowledged my presence was an hour ago. I have been here since morning!" You defended yourself, remembering how you initially went over to his place to bond with each other, but he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he walked past you several times without realizing it.

Rafe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You know what? Whatever. I've had a long day and don't need any of this right now."

Your face was starting to feel hot as you felt your anger grow. Suddenly, his huge bedroom felt small as your chest tightened. "That's it? You're going to push me away again? What the fuck am I to you, Rafe? Do I even mean anything to you?"

"You're pulling this shit right now?" He growled, brows furrowing as he looked at you with darkened eyes. "If you mean nothing to me, I wouldn't even look at you."

Rafe started to walk closer to you slowly, cornering you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His face lowered to your level, with a threatening look on his face.

"But guess what, princess? Here I am, still tolerating your goddamn bratty attitude." He said lowly.

You could feel his radiating anger, making you gulp as you think of whether or not you should still say something as words die at the back of your throat. Despite your own displeasure, your boyfriend's dangerous face made you gulp. And unsurprisingly, you liked it. You liked it so much that Rafe did not miss your subtle attempt to push your thighs together.

He chuckled darkly. "So that's your problem then, hm? You're fucking horny."

You felt your breath hitch, mouth open, as you quickly thought of an excuse. As expected, you came up with nothing, leading Rafe to shake his head in amusement.

"You could've just told me, baby. I'd drop anything to make you feel good." Upon hearing his words, your eyes lit up hopefully. You started to feel excited until Rafe walked beside you to sit on the bed, harshly pulling you towards him so you were entirely situated on his lap. "But you decided to act like a fucking brat instead, and I can't have that, can I?"

Your boyfriend hastily grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face towards his to kiss you roughly before you could react. Rafe kissed you with passion, forcefully separating your lips with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, hips starting to grind against clothed crotch.

Unbeknownst to you, he was already plotting what he could do to punish you. And you only realized that after you felt his lips travel to your neck.

"More, Rafe. Please fuck me." You gasped upon feeling him slightly bite your skin.

"No." He replied bluntly, pulling away to meet your gaze with a smirk. "You really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you did?"

"W-what?" You asked, visibly confused.

"Oh, baby. You should've seen your punishment coming." He taunted, shifting your positions so that he was standing again and you were lying on the bed. "You won't be getting my dick tonight. If you wanna come, do it yourself."

Your mouth was open in shock as you processed his words, frustration building up again. "Are you kidding me? Fuck me."

"You're in no position to order me, darling. Make yourself come right now, or I'll extend your punishment for a week. We both know you can't go that long without my dick."

If you weren't horny, you would have slapped Rafe's smirk off of his face. But you were desperate; your hormones heightened after making out with him. You groaned, tilting your head back, figuring that making yourself cum without his cock is much better than not being able to cum at all.

"Go on, baby. Take off your clothes; I wanna watch."

Grunting, you briefly sat up to remove your clothes individually as Rafe stepped back to watch you. You kept eye contact with him as you took off your bra and underwear, smirking when you saw his eyes hungrily scan your hardening nipples down to your inner thighs.

 "You can touch me, Rafey." You attempted to persuade him with a sweet smile, but he knew better.

"Nice try, sweetheart. But you should know by now that that won't work for me. Now lay back and spread those legs."

You followed his instruction, positioning yourself so that you're laterally positioned on his bed. Rafe moved to his small couch across the room, observing your movements like a hawk.

"Like this?" You teased him, lifting your leg and spreading your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts and wet slit.

Rafe could feel his cock growing harder and harder with each second. He wanted nothing more than to ruin you at that moment, your pussy tempting him to cum inside. But he prevented himself, knowing he had to let you know who was in control.

"Mhm. Now play with your tits. Don't stop until your nipples are hard." He said, watching as you slowly moved your hands up to massage your breasts. You moaned with each stroke, your thumb toying specifically with your nipples until they perk. "Good job, baby. Now remove one hand and touch your pussy. Don't insert a finger yet."

You followed again, one hand trailing down to your stomach until your fingertips touched your outer walls. You gasped loudly, turned on from your own wetness. "Rafey."

Rafe savored your moans, eyes not leaving your womanhood. "Spread your walls for me. I want to see that pretty cunt."

You obeyed, letting out a deep breath as you used two fingers to separate your walls, giving Rafe a fantastic view of your delicious cunt. "Want to come, Rafe? Please."

"You will. Just be patient, alright?" He cooed. "Insert one of your fingers."

You slowly push one finger into your pussy, having no difficulty in doing so because you're too soaked.

"Add another one. Go on, sweetheart. You know your spot." Rafe urged you, proud that you were doing so well for him. "Curl your fingers in. That's it."

"Fuck!" You screamed in sudden pleasure, letting Rafe know that you were able to find your G-spot. "Wish this were your fingers."

"I know, baby. I do, too, but you need to learn your lesson. Now make yourself come."

You whined upon hearing his words, pumping your fingers faster while continuing to massage your breasts. You were becoming desperate for a release, and Rafe's hungry smirk gave you enough motivation. If you couldn't have his dick, you would at least give him a proper show.

You were a moaning mess in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. Your continuous mumbles of his name increased his ego, knowing that you would never be able to satisfy yourself like he does.

The sound of your wetness as you fingered yourself was like music to his ears. And before he could think about what he was doing, he found himself in front of you, absentmindedly reaching forward to place his thumb on your clit.

"Oh!" You screamed upon contact, your hips slightly rising. Rafe couldn't avert his eyes from your pussy. He groaned at the sight of both of your fingers playing with your cunt, your walls visibly pulsating as you chased your own release.

"That's it. Be a good girl and come on my fingers."

"Yes, yes, yes." The exact words left your mouth as you felt your mind go blank, overwhelmed with nothing but pleasure. You continued to fuck yourself as Rafe toyed with your clit faster. "Fuck, Rafe. I'm going to cum."

"Go ahead, pretty girl. Give it to me." Rafe's cock was aching so much, and he felt like he was about to lose control. And he knew he did, when his mouth let out his most wanted thought. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll give you my dick."

Hearing those words made something snap in you, making you release in an instant. You squirted around your fingers as he remained touching your clit, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that was taking over your body.

Rafe grunted at the scene. "Good job." He softly grabbed your fingers away from your pussy before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "You did good, baby."

You were still catching your breath when you felt him kiss your forehead softly.

"Now I believe I owe you my cock?"

[requiemdesreves]

Do you need me to, love?

Part 1 word count: 1.5k a/n: tbh this is just me being horny, not really about the plot 😞 I’m a woman with needs ok?? I swear I’ll be normal again once I stop ovulating

“Turn them over,” Caitlyn says in a pleading tone that makes you laugh. “It’s not funny, my love, I’m serious.”

My love. You don’t remember when she started calling you that, but it melts you every time she does. Those two words are all Caitlyn needs to break you down because they’re real. You are her love, the owner of her kisses and caresses, the one she looks for when she feels like she can’t go on.

“Caitlyn Kiramman, I’m not going to turn over every single one of my stuffed animals so they don’t catch us kissing,” you reply with a laugh, not seeing the point in her request.

You’re both in your room; Caitlyn came to visit you secretly-or not so secretly. A few days earlier, she had written to your parents, formally inviting them to tea with her family, using the excuse that both families should join forces in these uncertain times for the city’s progress, making it clear she’d be spending time with you while they were away. That’s one of the things you love most about her: even though your love is a secret, she never fails to do things the right way, insisting you deserve to be courted, even if no one else sees it that way.

“Well, then I won’t kiss you,” she says, crossing her arms, her stubborn streak showing.

“Then don’t kiss me,” you mimic her, crossing your arms and turning your back to her. Caitlyn can be stubborn, but you’re a brat, and you’re not going to let her win.

You hold your head high and, for a moment, you hesitate. You wonder if she’ll play along, if she’ll get tired and leave you alone, but before you give up and turn around to look at her, you feel her hands on your waist, her chest pressed against your back, and her lips on your shoulders.

“Are we really going to argue over this, my love?” she whispers as she kisses you, one hand sliding up your top, kneading and squeezing one of your tits over your bra. You didn’t know she was coming to see you-not until just minutes before your parents left. She didn’t give you time to get ready, knocking on your door right after seeing your mom and dad leave. So you’re wearing a comfortable pajama set: a thin-strapped tank top with a heart print and matching shorts. Caitlyn bites you gently, then soothes the spot with her tongue. You can feel her smile on your skin, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re asking me for something that makes no sense,” you try to keep up the fight, but the way her fingers slip under your bra and tease your nipple won’t let you. You feel yourself swell immediately and sigh. “They’re stuffed animals, they can’t see us.”

“Of course they can,” she insists, now kissing your neck. Her lips stop at your ear, and she whispers in a way that makes your panties damp. “But let’s drop that, okay? I haven’t seen you in weeks, and I don’t want to spend the few hours we have left arguing with you.”

You don’t respond, letting her touch you, kiss you, do whatever she wants with you. Without breaking contact, she leads you to your vanity. Her reflection appears in the mirror, a large one, decorated with golden edges and a small lipstick stain you left while putting on makeup a few days ago.

“Look at you. You’re so beautiful.” Her words weaken you, but what really does it is when she slips her hands under your shorts and straight into your underwear. She’s not joking, not teasing. Not today. Her middle finger slowly strokes your clit, and you roll your eyes, grabbing her arm and digging your nails in hard. You catch a glimpse of a small wince in her reflection, but she doesn’t complain.

“Caitlyn,” you whisper, trying to find the strength to speak as you feel her finger moving faster. “We’re literally two steps from the bed, why here?”

Caitlyn laughs softly, looking at you, not through the mirror, but at you. At the sweat starting to form on your forehead, at the way your face tightens as you try not to make too much noise. “I want you to see yourself, princess. You look so good like this, it’d be a shame not to share the view. Even if it’s just with you.” As she speaks, she pushes two fingers deep inside you.

Saying you moan is an understatement. You tremble, writhe, and become nothing under her touch. You can’t help but grind against her fingers, craving more of that pleasure only she can give.

“Baby… please,” you beg without even knowing why. You don’t know what you want, but you don’t want her to stop.

She soothes you mockingly, the hand that was on your breasts now moving to your back, gently pushing you until the upper part of your body rests on the vanity. You’re face down, ass up. Just the way she likes it. Her fingers pause, pulling away from you to clean them with her mouth without breaking eye contact. The heat in your abdomen intensifies. You need her in a raw, carnal way. You try to say something, move, or complain, but she won’t let you, speaking before you can:

“You don’t know how hard it is to be away from you, my princess.” Her voice is hoarse, needy. You can see she’s trying to keep it together, but it’s tough. “It hurts how much I need you. Do you need me too, love?”

You nod, unable to form coherent words, much less a sentence. Humiliating. Truly humiliating. From the position she’s got you in, to the effect it has on your mind, on your whole being.

“How about we go to the bed where we’re both comfortable?” Her hands caress your ass gently, speaking to you and looking at you as if you were the most fragile, delicate thing in the world. “I know you’ll turn the stuffed animals around like I asked.”

You laugh at her words, really laugh, in a teasing way that annoys her. You might be a horny little thing who wets her panties at the slightest touch, who squeezes her thighs just from the scent of her perfume, but you never lose your arguments. Never.

“I already told you I’m not going to do it.”

And you didn’t.

Caitlyn scolds you for it while her lips wrap around your clit, sucking in a way that makes your eyes roll back. You don’t know if it’s because she’s irritated or because she hasn’t seen you in a while, but the way she eats you out makes you feel so good. She licks your pussy with such passion that you wonder if she’s doing it for you or for herself. Her words get lost in your folds. A perfect mix of praise and reproach. And her fingers, oh her fingers. They pump in and out of you, making you lift your hips, craving more.

Your hands grip her hair, pushing it away from her face and guiding her where you need her. You pull her away when you feel your orgasm coming, not wanting to come on her face, but she growls and dives back between your legs, licking you like she’s starving, desperate.

“Don’t hold back, love, come for me. Don’t worry about me.” Caitlyn coos you, her free hand intertwined with yours. You squeeze it tight as the orgasm washes over your body, your thighs clamping down on her, but Caitlyn doesn’t mind and keeps licking. You hear her moan between your legs and notice how she grinds against the mattress, trying to calm her own arousal.

“Come here,” you call softly, barely audible, but she hears and obeys.

Without hesitation, Caitlyn spreads your legs wider, throwing one over you. She stays like that for a few seconds before letting her weight fall on you, and when she does, you feel like you could die right then and there, and if you did, you’d die happy.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Her movements are slow, deliberate. You just had an orgasm, and no matter how desperate she is, Caitlyn doesn’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. She picks up the pace when she hears the moans escaping your mouth, mixed with sweet words and her name over and over.

You were a mess. Both of you were. The room is filled with obscene sounds, the scent of sex, and the proof of a passion that feels eternal. It didn’t take long for Caitlyn to come, and for you to reach a second orgasm.

She collapses beside you, her breathing ragged, just like yours. Without saying a word, she curls up against your chest, running a hand along your waist and pulling you close. You’re both sweaty, sticky, and you hate sweat. Yours, anyone’s, but not hers. Not when it’s proof of the love you share.

“I missed you,” she whispers, and your hand travels to her neck. “I mean it. I’m not happy when you’re away.”

You smile, snuggling closer, seeking the warmth of her body. “I missed you too. A lot.”

Neither of you says anything else. You just stay wrapped up in the comfort the other provides. You’re sticky, sweaty, and exhausted. So exhausted that neither of you hears your mother’s shrill voice announcing she’s home.

Uh-oh...

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[wholemeallbread]

itoshi rin x mermaid!reader ... 0.8k words ... childhood friends to strangers? chat im going through a disney princess moment dont mind me. kinda fluffy at the beginning kinda sad at the end, crying, short mentions of bruises. no please guys i promise im cooking i swear i sqwae

rin has always kept a huge secret from his older brother.

every time they visited the shore, he would disappear from his brother's sight, even only for a few minutes, making a beeline straight towards the sand. he had his own secret passage – across to the right side of the area, and climbing over the rocks, exposing a small, separated plot of sand that nobody else could see.

and the biggest secret of all? you.

he would always sit right where the waves stop, tossing in shells and rocks strategically hidden underneath the sand to catch your attention. the wait wasn't long, almost as if you were expecting him to visit, and you emerge from the sea, maybe even splashing him in the process. he didn't mind, giggling from the sudden cold sensation against his skin and not bothering to wipe it away.

he didn't know what you were. human? no, not with the scales covering your skin, your legs replaced with a fish's tail, and your eyes; unsettling, but mesmerising. but you're not a fish either, because what kind of fish's upper body looks like a human? your aquiline nature was truly unlike anything he's seen before.

despite having a mouth, you couldn't speak, opting to make sounds that seem to sound more like a dolphin, and communicating through body language instead.

his younger self would always watch carefully, unblinking, observing how you swim around and do tricks with childish wonder; amazed by how your tail waves in the water; sometimes even confused by the lack of dramatic change in your hair once you've submerged underwater, then popping out looking almost exactly the same. was your hair not like his? did it not get wet like his?

and every time rin heard his brother call his name, he would panic and try to tell you that you needed to leave. but you never did, not without his fingers brushing against your cheek first. you would always nuzzle into his touch, sometimes even keeping them pressed against you by gripping your hand. your skin... it felt weird. it was squishy, but felt like plastic. slick, smooth, just strange to touch.

once he returned to his brother, he came out looking like a mess – sand all over him, clothes damp, and some bruises on his hands and knees. yes, he would get a scolding. yes, his brother would patch up whatever was exposed and buy him ice cream to make up for the pain. but really, rin didn't mind it. he didn't mind the hassle, or going through the pain. if that meant he could get to see you, then he would do anything.

there was always a shell hidden in his sleeve or pockets, one that you gift him every time he sees you. once, you accidentally gave him a hermit crab, and he had to bear with the pinches until he could return it to its rightful place without it being seen. since you technically were a fish, he felt responsible over sea creatures now, refusing to eat fish. he gave up his favourite food for your sake, the thought of even looking at tsukudani making him feel ill.

and now, only a few years later, the silence between you was palpable.

it's been so long since you've seen him. he was older. he didn't speak. he couldn't look at you. but he still came. he looked the same, but he sort of didn't... there was no smile, nor did he giggle when he saw you. was something wrong?

maybe you could impress him with what you've learnt! surely that would cheer him up, right?

as the waves' foam lingered around your waist, you mustered up the courage to speak, forming the sounds with your lips. it hurt, it really did, but it sounded somewhat like a greeting. nothing in response. you had spent all of this time trying to learn the human language, practicing where nobody else could see, mimicking the sounds he would make and linking them to different gestures, only for it to be worth nothing? no... that can't be possible.

he looked so sad, so distant, but you couldn't understand why. you swam and swam in circles, slapping your tail against the surface, whistling, doing anything and everything that used to improve his mood. nothing. instead, he only stared out at the horizon. it was cold, gloomy, grey.

you could see how his mouth moves, how he's saying something, but you can't hear it. it was only two words! why is he being so quiet?! you whistled and whistled, croaking out the words 'again' as best as you could, but he never repeated himself.

with that, he stood up, glancing at you with a stare that seemed to burn into your own. you didn't notice the excess liquid dripping down your cheeks from your eyes. you've never felt this way, your body has never experienced this before... what was happening? what was this feeling?

and when he walked away, he didn't look back. he didn't even take the shell that you left out for him. he didn't touch your cheek.

are things really going to end this way?

@cherrysurf

guys this is not the last youll see of rin x mermaid!reader i swear 🫵

[takes1]

final part asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

skip the intro if you want again, (i marked the beginning of actual smut for ease of navigating) couldn't resist adding some kuroo stuff bc i love writing him even if its not sexual/thirst. this has turned a bit more into porn with plot forgive me i'm simple

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

info. nsfw / soft+rough kissy missionary sex / mentions of personal restraint / multiple orgasms / mentions of masturbation / gentle giant!asahi / asahi keeping your mouth shut / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / dacryphilia if you squint / sex toys (vibrator) / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.6k words / thanks for reading this asahi series!! it's been a delight!

haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. part three here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

You chose some giant clothes to cover the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

Then, with your security chair out of the way, you quietly slipped into the hall.

The familiar sound of Helldivers 2 on the entertainment speakers assaulted your ears. Of course, he got to invite friends over for the weekend.

You padded downstairs, the ache between your legs nearly unmanageable. You clenched your fists at the sight of his lazy ass as you walked behind the couch to get to the front door.

It was funny how quickly he zapped all desire from your body. You did not enjoy sobering up so quickly.

"I thought you said you were staying home!" Tetsurou called as soon as you grabbed the leash off of the rack.

You nearly pulled a muscle rolling your eyes so far back. You shook the thing violently from the doorway so he'd get it through his thick skull that you were literally doing what he texted you to do.

A couple voices muttered something, but your brother spoke volumes above it--

"Wait two seconds, shit-head!"

You clipped the hook into your dog's collar. To Hell with whatever he wanted. You unlocked the door and slipped on a pair of giant, black crocs.

That garbage pile gave you enough grief about your no-plans-plan in the past 12 hours to deserve being stranded on a barrel in the middle of the ocean. He could handle playing games with his friends while you went to walk the dog.

"C'mon, baby," You cooed and closed the door behind you.

It was, thankfully, nice and cold outside. You were glad you opted for some warm clothes.

"Where are my shoes?!" He yelled through the crack in the door. Almost to the end of the driveway, you didn't figure he had the gumption to follow you without them.

You pushed your hood up and pulled the strings.

A stop at the other side of the gate, and you waited for Maru to finish pissing in order to continue the walk. The big, empty street looked a little creepy in the dark.

flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!

You were glad to not be alone, but still threw your head back when he rounded the corner. His hands were shoved into his basketball shorts and he was shivering.

You both looked down to each other's feet at the same time. He had to put on your flip-flops, so his heels were hanging out the back and his grippers were on the pavement.

A silent exchange went down, one shoe at a time.

Now walking again, you returned to your baseline agitation.

"I don't need a bodyguard to walk the dog."

"Try being a little less stupid, and I'll trust you to not run off with the first guy you see."

You stopped dead in your tracks. "You think this is me sneaking out?"

He didn't respond quickly enough.

You kept walking, glad he was so cold that his teeth were chattering, "You're an idiot--."

He pushed you, unable or unwilling to argue.

"Why would I sneak out with the dog?" You muttered.

Another stop for Maru. It was silent, again, and you were wishing he would just go back by himself already.

"What's that smell?" He sounded ridiculously close to your head.

You looked up and realized that was because he was sniffing your hood. A sudden insecurity of smelling like sex flashed through you.

Pushing hard on his chest, you declared, "Fuck off."

It didn't send him flying the way you wanted it to. It only pissed him off, especially because he knew that smell from somewhere. He just couldn't recall exactly how right now.

You expected him to push or slap you back, so you tensed, but no such move was made.

"One day you'll thank me," He muttered with a grumpy chuckle.

A glance didn't do you any good. It was too dark to see his face.

"For what?" You rolled your eyes again.

It was quiet for so long that you were certain he had just been joking. As if he did anything to help you out, anyway. All he did was piss you off and get in your way.

"For making sure you don't get hurt."

Frustration on the tip of your tongue, you began to retort, "I--," but fell short of the will to say anything back for a minute.

Your glancing around in the dark didn't help you form any thoughts.

Maybe Asahi being so kind was just luck. Not the wise intuition you claimed to be guided by. There were already many times tonight that could've made a turn for the worse, and you hadn't realized until after the fact.

That didn't change how you felt, though, other than some newfound patience for Tetsurou's difficult, demanding nature.

Maru didn't want to go much further than the fifth lamp post, so your small party turned around before you could cross the street.

It was quiet on the way back. Just the jingle of your dog's collar and the flip-flip of these shoes you hated.

You rounded the corner and closed the gate behind you, Tetsurou opting to walk ahead since it was evident to him that there was no danger anymore.

It was just getting to be a comfortable silence when he had to speak up one last time.

"Has this tree always been sideways?"

You genuinely thought it was a joke, so you didn't spare a look when you crossed behind him to get inside. He caught you shoulder the way you hated so much and you swiped your hand to hit him, but saw what he was talking about and froze.

The both of you took a moment, dumbfounded, to stare at your lawn tree. It looked nearly snapped, like a hurricane had come through, but it hadn't rained in weeks. Nothing else was wrecked. Just the tree.

You felt guilty about it for just a second, but rationalized that it had nothing to do with you. You weren't sure what that was from.

"Maybe it was rotted from the inside?" You thought out loud.

He glanced around, suspicion at its full peak, and guided you inside swiftly by your upper back.

Tetsurou locked the door behind you and stayed stock-still, staring through the peephole for so long you didn't bother saying anything to him before heading back upstairs.

At your door, you heard him call to Kenma and Bokuto.

"Did one of you kick that tree in the yard?"

You collapsed against the door with a soft shut and an even softer sigh.

There was no time to deconstruct everything that was discussed, because your eyes followed a sound that nearly made you jump out of your skin.

The man took up so much of your bed. He was on his back, scarred knuckles brushed slowly up and down, a casual pump to quell his impatient cock.

His hand fit much better around it than yours. In his other hand, held closer to his face, he was clicking a small device- the familiar buzz of which inspired a complete takeover of tension between your legs.

Your embarrassment was no secret, and neither was his curiosity.

"I'd love to use this," He grinned and looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes.

It took some effort to find the lock on the door and make your shaky way over to the bed. Like last time, he met you at the side.

However, you noticed that before you left, he didn't have the same edge in his brow, or the eagerness that defined the way he pulled you into him.

When you stumbled, he caught you and tilted your head for a restless kiss. He was shoving his hands under the waistband of your pants and humming a sort of approval against your cool lips. It sent your stomach back into those fluttery waves of excitement all over again.

"You should take your clothes off," He muttered, fully immersed in his desire since he never had to sober off of it.

"Yeah- I should," You breathed against his rough, needy lips.

You were slipping back in quickly, though, when he took your lips in a chaste, passionate kiss all over again. His hands were slipping over your skin, discarding your hoodie before you could do it yourself.

His whole body was warm, it felt like he was burning through you when you stepped out of your pants and fell against his front. Like a melting ice cube.

When he picked you up this time and set you down, it was less premeditated, more animalistic. You gave a giggling smile when he parted your legs for him.

Any shyness he had before was long-gone after 10 minutes of imagining what he was going to do to you- you squirmed at his spit-slick fingers slipping over your soaking cunt.

"Still so wet for me," He muttered, pleased, into your hair, while his massive body settled over you.

That intense, near-evolutionary drive kicked in again where you believed you could take whatever he wanted to give you all night. It may have been the smell of his sweat, it may have been his grumbly voice.

"Obviously," You smirked. He grinned at your confidence.

"We can take this slow," He rolled a condom on without wasting any extra time, "I don't wanna hurt you."

The statement floored you for a moment. He didn't notice as he lined himself up with your tightness.

It echoed in your brain during the most contradictory part possible.

He sank into you- it wasn't easy, but after hours of build-up -more if you counted the self-pleasure you couldn't resist before he arrived- it was beyond rewarding to watch all of the stress and worry on his brow melt away in one smooth, slow stroke.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck," You whined, his grasp on your hip reassuring, but still a pen in which you couldn't wriggle from or adjust against, "God-!"

Your thighs twitched on either side of him, forcibly relaxed- you tried to catch your breath, but felt like your lungs were too constricted to do so.

His thumb brushed your cheek.

Patience and gentleness in the midst of it all allowed you to breathe a little easier.

Only kindness, with a hint of pity, remained in his expression as you gasped and struggled to ease up around his cock.

He looked away for a moment, his hand leaving the side of your face, and you heard a saving grace.

Asahi did you the liberty of placing it against your clit. His face lit up at the sight and sound of your newfound gratification.

"I bet that feels better, huh?" He smiled against your parted lips, stealing a few of your moans with an excited kiss.

There was a hard-to-pin inquisitiveness about his attitude surrounding your vibrator. Like he was dying to use it on you, feel you writhe around his still cock.

"Ohh my god-! Ah-Mn!" You cried against his lips.

It was met with chuckle and the slow pump of his hips sinking deeper into you.

It dulled the discomfort of his size, leaving only a feeling of fullness between your legs, a satisfied craving, and the intense waves of pleasure from your clit.

His pretty face and perfect body over you- how could you not just announce your paradise to everyone in the city?

One hand laced in yours, and you took control of your vibrator to swirl it the way you preferred while he picked up his leisurely pace.

He barely caught your high-pitched tone at the combination with an alarmed kiss.

Stalling, he warned, "You gotta be quiet," and leaned to press further kisses against your neck.

He quickly learned that you weren't going to stay that way for him, even if his balls were allegedly on the line.

The feeling of him going deeper, your thighs bouncing from his weight that shifted your entire body, and the building waves over your clit.

"Asahi," Came out in a needy moan.

"Shhh," He cooed, gripping the bottom half of your face to get your focus on him.

The beat of his thighs against the back of yours stole your attention instead- you squeezed against his palm with furrowed brows.

Another noisy cry at his size splitting through you, and he instinctively covered your mouth to shut you up.

He thrust hard into you and stayed there, earning a pitiful whimper, and leaned in close to catch your avoidant eyes.

A mutter against your heated skin, "Do I need to keep you quiet?"

His cock was stretching you beyond your limits- that steely look in his pretty brown eyes was so layered.

You clenched around him, butterflies attacking you now, of all times, at his stern tone, but genuine concern.

A gorgeous smile spread across his features when you nodded, helpless, but honest.

He felt too good- he filled you up better than you had imagined. You were stunned to feel that you were already close. There was just no possible way.

This wasn't how you wanted it to go.

It was too soon- you didn't want it to be over so quickly. But now, of course, you realized you didn't have the physical capacity to take him all night.

You tried moving the overwhelming buzz away from your needy clit, but met the resistance of his hand instead.

He pressed just enough to guide you right to an edge you couldn't pull back from. You whimpered against his palm.

You couldn't tell him you were about to cum. You couldn't move away, or speak, nor did you possess the will to push against him. All you did was claw, weak, across his back.

The look in his eyes responded to your subtle panic-pleasure without a word. A gentle fondness that he shouldn't have been capable of while he gave you his rougher strokes.

He removed his hand from your mouth just to swallow your sounds with a starved kiss, an avid grumble at the back of his throat when you took his tongue so well.

"Mm-!" You squeaked, nails digging deep red trenches into his shoulder.

It was an ultimate submission you never had the insurance to safely experience before.

You got the chance for a gasp before getting cut off -half a second before you could alert the entire house- by his huge palm again.

Asahi groaned as you tightened around him. He quickly shut himself up by flexing away the pleasure and leaning down to pant, warm breath spilling against your ear.

"Shh- I got you," His kindhearted whisper strung you along, crushing you underneath his weight, while he repeated that sweet promise, "I got you, baby."

All your worry of it being too soon dissipated as your orgasm wracked through your entire body and filled you with pure bliss. He fucked you hard and steady through it and didn't even grant you the dignity of looking away from him.

Your chest was tight at the end of it, eyes stinging, and you would've sobbed if he wasn't still keeping you quiet.

He watched your journey the whole time through your eyes, wholly captivated by your big, glossy fixation on him. When you blinked away the burn, he took no time to kiss them away.

Your body naturally relaxed, a twitchy and overstimulating process.

He slowed for you after he sucked the rest of your complicated tears up.

He was so heavy, so adamant on keeping your noise down that you couldn't tell him to stop. You weren't sure that you would try, even if he wasn't hindering your communication. The fact that you trusted him so much right now wasn't necessarily wise, but it felt right.

His growing intensity didn't hurt, but it didn't start to feel good until a raspy voice told you:

"Feels so good," He swallowed the spit gathered in his mouth and seethed, a light chuckle breezing past his lips, "You got no fuckin' clue."

That was just kind of sinful confession that gave you nervous chills even though he was already fucking you senseless.

He studied how your eyes clouded over at his words. A restrained, toothy smile nudged your jaw in a sugary kiss.

"I'm not gonna be able to get enough of you," He finally took his hand off of your lips and you were able to gasp at the impact of his words.

When he readjusted, he swept your legs up to his shoulders and dipped back down.

"A-Ah!" You barely choked out before he moved his hand back to its diligent place over your loud mouth.

He was so deep- you felt like he'd split right through you. Yet, you welcomed the possibility with the blessing of another steady-growing climax.

Yet, only one of you was so careless. He was so tender, so considerate because he could feel it, too. How fragile you really were in this position in regards to his size.

"God," He sighed at your loving stare.

"Gonna- ah, make me cum, lookin' at me like that," He groaned, a bit strained.

He finally dipped his head with closed eyes at the sweet, slick heat he just wanted to bury himself in. He couldn't get too carried away, now that it was starting to get difficult.

Your shitty stamina stroked his ego so much that he forgot he wouldn't be too far behind for a while. He got a bit ahead of himself and was paying for it with the climbing pressure in his stomach.

Your pussy was reason enough to fuck you harder, but that face was what really tested him.

His hand twitched at the compelling desire to hear you scream for him, but again, had to keep his sanity for the two of you. Next time he would make sure that brother of yours wouldn't be in the way.

He tried to keep an edge going, but found it laughably difficult to settle down.

If it wasn't your Fuck-me-harder eyes building up the needing to cum, it was your cute tits squished against your soft, scratched-up thighs, right under his chest.

It was impossible to keep himself from riding that high in the end.

As if to spite him, to completely spend all of his restraint, your watery eyes rolled back again. Your muffled whines filled his ears as you tightened once more around him, weaker this time but still more than enough to send him over the edge.

"G-od,fu-ck," He groaned, hitting just the right spot to fuck out both of your orgasms.

You felt him swell inside of you, his grip on your hand crushed yours back to the point that you couldn't claw him, his hips stuttered to a slow stop, deep inside of you.

A sense of satisfaction beyond the physical softened your face, your resistance between his fingers, and all your aching muscles. You weren't quite sure what it was, but didn't feel rushed to figure it out.

He was trembling when he released the lower half of your face, a beautiful sweaty and out of breath mess on top of you.

Once again, you gasped at the opportunity to breathe better.

He tensed up immediately and you flinched at the twitch of his cock inside of you.

"Shit- was I choking you?" He managed to stay worried right after he came.

You grinned, carefree on the backend of your own, and shook your head, "Mm-mm."

The look of unmatched relief that washed over him was supremely attractive.

He pulled himself out, slowly, and made a face at how much he came before turning to discard the tied-up thing into the trash with a solid toss.

You welcomed his cuddly shuffle up to your side by burrowing into his slippery chest, and sighed at last, "Cute butt."

That, of all things, made him uncomfortable. He cringed when you spared a glance up to his face from his chin. You rolled your eyes at his overthinking.

"You must be an athlete, or something--," You rubbed your face harder into his chest and felt his laugh resonate throughout your body.

It all felt natural. The joking, the cuddling, the winding down. You both forgot that you weren't together, let alone that you had only known each other for less than a week.

It was already warm with him next to you, but you were happy to be under the soft throw he found and pulled over.

"I can't believe you came twice," His soft laugh invited an embarrassed, but sharp look from you.

He clarified, "It's really hot, don't get me wrong--,"

"I'm not usually so easy," You half-joked.

A big, handsome guy that knew how to use his dick, went down on you, listened to you, and didn't shy away from a vibrator? It'd be a challenge to find a girl who wouldn't cum that quick.

You blushed under the cover of darkness at his gentle, comforting hold on your breast and reassuring kiss to the side of your neck.

The ache in your belly was evident when you were flipped over to be little spoon. It burned pretty bad and you couldn't exactly hide it.

"Did I hurt you--?"

"No," You muttered, clearing your throat, "No, I wouldn't say that."

He placed a big hand on your tummy, feather-light, and you looked over your shoulder to meet his perceptive gaze.

You sure as hell couldn't lie to this guy. He saw right through you.

You pouted and gripped your pillow. Of course you couldn't handle his dick the way you wanted to, the way you bragged about or even genuinely thought you could.

"You were so good," You admitted, a little sad in tone.

A warm kiss to the back of your head. He took the weight of his arm off of your sore body, sighing into your hair.

"You were, too."

He decided to drop the subject, since you both had strong opinions that seemed to clash.

You smiled.

You talked about a range of topics for the rest of the night. General information, first, then personal interests that turned into a long conversation about volleyball, then family history, then academics, then personality, goals, and attraction.

Soon it was 4 in the morning. You were eating popsicles from your freezer and discussing the adventure he had to get up to your window.

You both watched, trying your best to stay quiet, a minutes-long video one of his friends sent in the Karasuno volleyball group chat of him falling out of the tree outside.

A hand flew up to your mouth to silence your intense giggle-fit. You had no idea how you were going to keep something like this a secret from Tetsurou.

Before too long, the pain in your tummy was just an ache and the stranger in your bed turned into a lover overnight.

taglist:

ty for all the replies and reblogs and likes!! it means so much. it's really nice seeing all the other asahi appreciators out here!!

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere

@kreishin

@ruu-https @kasai-https

@40unung @deluluforcarlos55 @lili-harg @beyond-your-stars @noyaskneepad

@rinheartshyunlix @vintagevict0ria @am-3-thyst

<3 u are literally asahi mvp @screamin-abt-haikyuu

masterlist.

requests open!

[sonotdaiisy]

TAKE A GUESS ⸺ Haerin x reader

Asking your supposed enemy who she has a crush on

GENRE ⸺ Fluff, enemies to lovers (ish)

WARNINGS ⸺ short, I’ll make like three short posts while I’m actually writing something long :P, wrote this at like 3am so it’s barely proofread, saw an imagine on Pinterest and decided to do it, so just the idea isn’t mine but lowk the entire plotting is :D, wrote on an app called notion I think (a friend recommended) so that’s why there are spaces TT

WC ⸺ 1.3K

You’re going to be honest. Haerin was really intimidating. Everything about her just screams “don’t talk to me or I’ll kill you”. Her face, her eyes, her glares, the way she talks, literally every single thing about her.

She talks to absolutely no one but you. She’s more playful, sweeter, annoying and teasing towards you.

Everyone including you has no idea how and why she started to talk to you.

One time when another school came to your school just for a basketball match, rumors spread that Haerin liked someone from the opposite school leaving everyone in curiosity and thought. But they knew they could never get their answers, no way they were going to walk up to Haerin and asks one of the most irrelevant questions. She’d probably scream or death glare at them. Right now their only option is you.

It was a normal afternoon, you remained in the library to observe break. Drowning yourself in a bunch of novels. Until a person tapped you on the shoulder.

You looked up to see a familiar girl from one of your classes. A small smile plastered on your face so as not to come off as rude or anything like that.

She looked down, embarrassed of what she was about to say next. “Hey umm yn This may seem weird to ask but could you kindly please ask Haerin if the rumors are true? The one about her liking someone from the other school?” She requested shyly.

“Please….you’re the only one she likes, the only one she talks to” she pleaded after seeing your raised eyebrow.

“The only one she likes?! Girl she lowkey hates me“

“But fine whatevs, I’ll ask her about it” you added shutting the Novel that was placed between your palms shut.

“Thank you thank you thank you so much” she thanked a hint of excitement in her tone.

“Yeah” you shortly responded, making your way out of the library to find Haerin.

You were about to go searching round the school until you remembered her favorite spot. The rooftop.

Of course it was her favorite spot in the whole school. She was short from people, short from human interactions.

Just as you thought, you saw Haerin standing by the railings staring down at the others who observed their break; eating, giggling and chatting away.

Moving closed to her, you gave her shoulders a light tap until she whipped her head around to see you.

“What’d you want?” She asked her tone not very welcoming but much rather hostile. It was no big deal since you were pretty much used to it.

“Hey umm I know this may come off as weird, what am I even saying it’s weird but like a girl asked me to ask you if the rumors are accurate you like someone from the other school. You know the school that joined ours during the basketball game that time.” You explained waiting with anticipation for what she was about to say next.

She scoffed looking at you like you had just said the dumbest thing ever. “What are you saying? You’re in my class” she briefly responded turning back to stare down at people.

“Huh? Wait what? What am I supposed to do with this?? That literally just has nothing to do with all this, come on just tell me yes or no?” you demanded but all you got in response was a shrug.

“I’m not telling you, take a guess from the hint”

A small scoffed escaped your lips. You were almost on the verge of smacking her head. What does this all have to do with you? You’re in her class, yes you can totally see that.

Without asking too much you left the roof top now on another mission to find the girl.

It was as if the girl was spying on you because the next thing you knew you got jump scared by her on your way down the staircase.

“Oh my I’m so sorry for the sudden jump scare” she apologized scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

“So what did she say? Is it a yes or no? Did she even answer? Did she leave you on a cliff hanger?” She babbled not taking breaks.

“Yes she did leave me on a cliffhanger”

“You mean she didn’t tell you if she did or not?” The girl asked raising an eyebrow.

“Not that she didn’t tell me, all she said was and I quote. ‘What are you saying? You’re in my class’ “ you repeated the words from earlier.

“Wait what’s that supposed to mea— wait you don’t get that?!” The girl asked her eyes widening in shock.

“Duh”

“You’re literally so dense” she added shaking her head before waking off.

“Umm that’s rude of you to also put me on a cliffhanger you know?!!” You yelled from up the staircase hoping she’d hear from wherever she is.

Everything seemed irritating to you maybe because you still didn’t understand what Haerin and the other girl meant earlier.

“You’re in my class, you’re….in….my…class” you repeated the words slowly analyzing each words.

“You’re, me, in, my, her, class…. This whole shit if confusing!” You ruffled your hair in frustration constantly playing the memory from the roof top again.

And then it clicked. “YOU ARE IN HER CLASS!!” You gasped quietly. “I’m the person she likes!!” you mumbled to yourself.

After finally understanding the statement, you find yourself growing more and more impatient as the last period seemed to be taking forever.

Finally it came to an end, Haerin had dashed out of the class before you knew it.

You fumbled with the zip of your bag, darting your eyes to the door, praying you won’t loose sight of the girl.

After successfully packing your bags you rushed out of the class, stumbling and bumping into people on the way.

You dashed out of the school glancing around once you thought you’ve lost sight of Haerin until you saw her by the sidewalk with her headphones plugged in.

You finally caught up to her, tapping her on the shoulders to get her attention. She turned around slowly removing her headphones. “Yeah?”

“Wait…. What you said earlier—“

“I thought I told you I’m not giving you any more hint”

“Yeah I know, I just wanted to know if it was true or not” you asked biting the inside of your cheeks.

“What do you think? Of course it was!” She stated turning to face front, walking away from you.

You sighed in frustration catching up to her again. This time stopping her by holding her arm stopping her in her tracks.

“I thought I already told you—“

“So does this mean we’re together?” You asked softly looking her in her eyes. “Like you’re my girlfriend now?” You added.

A hint of softness and warmth could be seen in her eyes. She was a bit confused at first but when realization hits, she blushed a bit at your statement. “So you like me back?” She asked confirming just to be sure.

You nodded smiling at her.

Before you could even move she pulled you closer, drawing you into a really tight hug. “Yes it means you’re my girlfriend”

She pulled away noticing someone from the same school as the both of you standing behind you with a bouquet of flowers and chocolates, a blush spread across his face.

“YN these are for you…I’ve liked you for a really long time now… would you be my—“

“Ah ah ah! She’s not straight, plus she’s my girlfriend so back off!” She scowled judging the boy up and down.

The boy nodded running away in embarrassment earning a satisfied smirk from Haerin. “Just as I thought”

[iwoulddieforher]

Necessary Sting | Alex Cabot x Casey Novak

rewarding my readers with comfort no hurt after all the stuff I've been putting you through lately. :) everyone say thank you rynn

Essentially: Alex has an off day, and Casey comes over with a sore shoulder from softball playing. nonsexual (..borderline at some points but hey, with a body like Casey's in front of you, what did you expect Alex to do?) body worship. Technically written as a continuation of "Rigid" although it is not at all necessary to read the former before reading this. 4.4k words

It was one of the rare days when Alex didn't have work, and Casey did, and Alex was mildly irritated. Not that she had a break, no, but because usually when she took a day off she plotted it weeks in advance to make sure the time spent off would have some purpose- visit a museum she had wanted to see, make plans with a friend she hadn't seen in a while, invite Olivia over for a home-cooked meal that inevitably turned into takeout after Alex burned the food- some, vague but still some, idea of what to do. 

She didn't have anything to do because she had forgotten this day was marked off. It must've been the day for an event her family or bosses wanted her to attend, but after a couple hours of trying to figure out what she was due for, it appeared as though she genuinely had nothing on schedule. A call to her secretary informed her that it was due to some sort of mix-up, and she was free to do whatever she wished, and they’d figure it out. 

Alex did not like making plans on short notice. She needed the time to process what she was going to do and in what order she was going to do it in at least a few hours before doing it, and she had no idea what she even wanted to do today, so she did absolutely nothing. 

It was irritating, doing nothing. She wanted to spend her time on some halfway-useful purpose. 

A call illuminated her dark phone screen and she picked up immediately without registering the caller ID, bored enough that she was fine speaking to genuinely anyone if it provided any amount of entertainment. 

“Cabot,” She spoke out of reflex, although this was her personal phone so whoever was calling her most likely was someone she wouldn't need to be so formal with. 

“Novak,” a woman’s voice responded, a bit of a snort in her voice as she imitated the clear-cut formal tone that had just been used on her. 

“Casey,” and here Casey grinned at the smile so present in Alex’s voice, even though she couldn't see it, “How can I help you?” 

“There's a softball match I’m playing in tonight,” Casey told her, “Would you want to come with? I haven't seen you in a while.” 

Alex paused, internally debating it in her mind. Yes, she had nothing to do, but if she was honest with herself despite how much she loved watching Casey play, the idea of sitting on those grimey bleachers especially with such little time to mentally prepare herself for it was not ideal. Sometimes she could put up with it, as she had before, but today was not really one of the days she could fight against the urge to be somewhere less … wild.

“You can say no,” her … whatever Casey was to her … said seriously over the phone, “I’m not one of those people who offers things with expectations.” 

Alex wished Casey could see the smile that flashed briefly over her face at that comment. It meant a lot to her. She liked when expectations and efforts and intentions were laid out a bit more simply, the people she was raised around where not like that in the slightest. Casey was clear cut in a delicious way. If she liked something she said she didn't, if she didn't she wouldn't, and she wanted her to do something she’d ask, and if she requested something it wasn't a demand.

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood to spectate today,” Alex agreed, but after a quick second decided she did really want to see Casey tonight. “But- would you want to come over, after?” 

“I’m game,” she heard a soft chuckle from Casey’s side of the line, “but I’ll be over later, then, I’d need to go home to shower first.” 

“Shower here,” Alex said before considering it.

She could feel Casey’s eyebrows raise despite the blocks of bustling New York between the DA’s office and her apartment, feel the way they arched as if Casey was shooting her a look, which she was. 

Since the night that had blazed an impression of itself onto Alex’s heart, the moments spent tossing a softball back and forth in an empty stadium, Alex had thought quite a bit about what opportunity might exist within Casey Novak. 

Going back to Casey’s apartment, soft hands on her hips when Casey pushed her down to the couch, easily sliding a leg over to recreate the position they had been in on the field, although this time, Alex had let her stay on top. 

She’d let her decide how much she wanted to take, because if it was up to Alex to offer, a lot more would have been on the table than what they had done. 

But they hadn't done much since then- time was a tricky thing to navigate with the job they worked- so where exactly their relationship lay Alex was not entirely sure. 

“Alright,” Casey said, right as Alex was beginning to tug on her fingers from nerves, “Then- I’ll see you at yours, say, eight thirty?” 

“Sounds good,” Alex nodded, stealing a deep breath. 

“Alex?” 

“Yes?” 

“What’s your address?” 

“Oh,” Alex felt her cheeks color, but she rattled off her place of base hastily and when Casey laughed again before excusing herself and ending the call she was too enthused to be embarrassed. 

Her enthusiasm quickly dwindled when she realized she still had another couple hours to wait until Casey’s arrival, and she still didn't have anything to do, so she sighed and sprawled herself over the couch, deciding to simply read up on case law for the sake of having nothing better to do. She had already read most of these transcripts but she’d reread them anyway. One never knew what specific tidbit of information could cause a case to flip on its head, until it happened, or until you remembered something you could use. 

The sense of boredom then shifted to anxiety. She wasn't exactly sure what she had initiated. Should she try to cook something, or was ordering okay? Or would Casey grab food with friends before showing up to her's? What were they even doing- watching a movie? But then the question of what movie to pick out ahead of time arose and Alex wasn't sure about Casey’s taste in cinema at all, so that just stressed her out, too. 

Eventually, after a lot of staring blankly at her kitchen- it seemed embarrassing to make something simple, but she knew anything more complex she’d run the risk of fucking up- she sighed and decided to text her defeat. 

← Takeout okay? I’m behind on groceries 

Casey → Oh, you’re feeding me?

Alex blinked slowly at her phone, then placed it on the table with a small huff. What was that supposed to mean? What was Casey expecting? But then again, she had been the one to offer, so- wait, did Casey think this was a hookup? ‘Come over’ had been a vague thing to say. 

When she picked her phone up again she realized Casey was sending chain texts, so that wasn't all she had to base a reply off of, and her fears were somewhat alleviated. 

Casey → That's sweet of you 

Casey → What do you normally get? 

← ‘Normally’ I’m only ordering things that are easy to eat so it’s less risky to eat over my laptop and won't ruin if I’m called out in a spur

← What do you prefer? 

Casey → If it's alright with you, Chinese? But don't worry about it, I’ll pick it up on my way over. No reason for you to waste money on delivery if I’m on my way around anyway. 

← You’re on your bike? 

Casey → What did you expect? 

Casey → :) 

Alex glanced outside. There was still an hour or two of sunlight left, but regardless, she didn't like the idea of Casey being out on her bike alone at night. 

But it wasn't her place to interject on that. If Casey wanted a ride Alex could only hope she’d trust her enough to ask- the way she had the first time- but otherwise it was Alex’s job to trust Casey knew what was good for her, and if this was it, then she’d accept it. 

← Drive safely. See you soon

With that, her source of entertainment stalled again, so she went back to her articles, sighing idly.

She was now wracked with an equal amount of anticipation and anxiety that she didn't quite know how to focus properly on such a nonemergent cause like case files, so she stood and instead decided to pace idly in her kitchen, trying to decide what wine paired with whatever possible combination of food Casey might bring. 

..

..

Dishes were in the sink, a nonsense movie was on the screen, and Alex was sitting on the couch trying to pretend she wasn't listening to the water splashing as Casey showered, although that wasn't a particularly devious thing to do regardless. 

A bottle of wine had been cracked and it was nearly empty now, sitting like a proud lion on the living room table next to two empty glasses.

Alex was trying very hard to figure out what was happening. Yes, she had invited her over and also told her to shower here, but the expectations for after the shower was- very … nonexistent. Casey had said she wanted to eat quickly while the food was warm and then shower as quick as possible, because she didn't like lounging around in dirty clothes for any longer than necessary, and she had already seemed slightly freaked out about being in Alex’s expensive apartment in clothes she had sweat in. When Alex had complimented the way her hair fell so naturally in the messy ponytail she had pulled faux blonde hair into, Casey had chuckled almost nervously. Hopefully she’d be calmed by the shower, clean clothes, and washed hair.

But now Alex was getting more anxious, and hearing the water run was making her heart pound- not in a bad way- because she couldn't stop … imagining. 

Wet hair clinging to her back, her lips parted slightly as water ran down the length of bare skin- no, she couldn't be thinking about that, but it was all she wanted to think about. The muscles on her lithe, agile frame- her pale skin, the rosy tint it must be taking on from warm water. 

Her hands, god her wonderful hands, across her own chest- oh, Alex was going to get a nosebleed if she kept thinking about that, feeling her face grow warm from the thought alone. Fuck, fuck. She needed a cigarette.

She cautiously took a pillow and laid it in her lap, digging her fingers into the plush and trying to think of anything else but Casey tilting her head back in the shower, steam clouding the mirror and floating in a haze around her nude form.

“Hey, you.” The woman she had just been fantasizing about chirped, wandering back into the room. Her hair had been towel dried and then brushed through, so still damp and unnaturally straight, although her wavy curls were starting to form at the ends. She had switched into shorts that rode up on her thighs and a shirt that was too large for her, but Alex couldn't tear her eyes away from her face. 

“Oh,” Alex cursed herself, the shower must have turned off minutes ago for Casey to already be dry like this, “Nice shower?” 

“Yours is considerably bigger than mine,” Casey grinned, rolling her shoulder twice before flopping back on the couch with a groan. 

Alex studied her side profile, illuminated from both the dim lighting in the kitchen a ways away and the soft glow from the TV, still paused where they had left off before Casey had excused herself to shower. Her face was rosy and looked deliciously soft, her lips wetted and her hair was absolutely begging for Alex to toy with it. She was still warm from the shower and still radiating the humid comfort gained from it.

Casey rolled her shoulder- the same one- again, and Alex frowned softly, broken out of her inspection.

“Is it bothering you?” She asked, motioning to the shoulder Casey kept trying and failing to stretch out.

“Yeah,” Casey affirmed, closing her eyes and shaking her head softly. “Carrying the bag with all the equipment around did a number on me.” 

The throbbing of her body seemed to ripple into her hands, and Alex felt her fingers twitch. She ran her tongue along her suddenly dry lips, her heart starting to beat faster. 

“I could try to work it out,” Alex breathed, quiet and tentative, “I’ve been told I’m decent at that kind of thing. All the hunching over textbooks at law school, you know.” 

That was over-justification, and she grimaced slightly, but she wanted to touch her so bad- so ridiculously bad- and when the response she was met with was only a gentle scoff at her enthusiasm, Casey was content to settle under her ministrations. 

The faux blonde turned, back facing Alex, and the elder woman coaxed her upwards, her thighs bracketing Casey’s body. Casey sighed deeply, relaxing into the space, and Alex felt herself genuinely swooning. 

The seconds her hands met Casey’s body she felt herself muffle a moan at the feeling of her- okay, yes, through a shirt but still- in her hands. Holding her felt better than ecstasy, but she had a job to do, so she set about doing it.

Casey was watching the TV half intently, and Alex realized she had unpaused it- her attention was completely fixated on the younger woman now so she wasn't surprised she hadn't seen. She placed her hands evenly on the top of her shoulders and then began to explore her traps gently with her thumbs. The feeling of her body moving under her fingers, the way she could press down and feel the warmth bleed into her, it was all simply too much.

A loose whimper left Casey's throat, higher in pitch than anything Alex had ever heard from her before, and it was followed up with an honest to God moan when Alex’s thumb pressed against a knot of muscles near her spine. Her hand found Alex's thigh and lightly whacked it, landing a series of gentle insistent taps that reminded Alex of a dog’s tail wagging.

“Right there,” Casey gasped, “Fuck, that hurts, but it- keep going, right there.” 

Alex smirked to herself, feeling elated and triumphant. She felt like she had won some kind of victory, being able to hold Casey like this.

She kept repeating the same motion, rolling the muscle that had tensed with her thumb, and Casey kept shifting, kept letting small sounds leave with her breathing as she did it. It was utterly intoxicating. It hurt her but it healed simultaneously, the necessary burn to agitate the knotted muscles to smooth back out, leaving her waking up tomorrow without the usual sore.

Her hand snapped down against Alex’s thigh again, harder this time, needing the comfort of some kind of movement to expel the energy the stimulation of an area in pain provided her with, even though it was a good sort of pain. She glanced back apologetically, her hand smoothing along Alex's thigh to take away any sort of a sting her movement had left, but Alex only smiled and pressed her leg a bit closer against Casey’s body. If her tapping made it better, she was more than willing to let Casey slap her hand against her, and regardless, it hadn't hurt at all. 

The sting felt almost good, actually, it felt like a reward. She was helping. She was making Casey feel. The sounds felt like a reward, too.

“Wait,” Casey breathed, and Alex drew back, watching Casey sit up. 

Alex’s breath caught in her throat and she nearly swooned again- she came considerably closer, she noted, the edges of her vision had gone black just like a vinaigrette- as Casey reached one hand to the center of her back and then in a smooth motion pulled her shirt clean off of her body.

“There,” She said, her tone as triumphant as Alex felt, and settled back in the space she had been in, her body so warm and so deliciously close. There was no time wasted in reconvening her hands with Casey’s body, and now that it was skin on skin, it was even better, more intoxicating.

“God, it hurts,” Casey muttered, her back arching suddenly when Alex forced her thumb against the knot in her trapezius, “But it feels good, I- fuck, don't let me ever volunteer to carry that thing around ever again…”

Alex very selfishly wished Casey would carry that equipment bag every day for the next few years so she’d have the excuse to run her fingers along pale, warmed and softened skin, and soothe the hurt away while listening to the small sounds Casey made as she did so. 

She smelled good from the shower, her hair now adorned with the same scent of shampoo as the one Alex used, and something about it made a small ember of possessiveness inside of her purr at the realization. She was all smooth skin, all firm yet sleek muscles, breathy sounds and soft touches. Casey’s hand slid to grip at Alex’s thigh, needing the support, which Alex was happy to let her.

She supposed overworking that one muscle must cause it to burn at some point, so her hands wandered down, exploring her shoulder blades, her lower back. Casey groaned as her hands moved, and Alex felt the way she squirmed the slightest bit against her fingers at some spots. 

Alex began categorizing them, making mental notes of where Casey responded the most, where she was more sensitive and where she needed more stimulation before a response. Where she got bored, her body relaxing, and where the feeling caused a spike through her nervous system that caused Alex to wince at the feeling of Casey’s hand clenching down on her thigh. She used them in combination and the gasp Casey released made her abdomen shift comfortably in her stomach.

“That’s all I can reach from here,” She said finally, after the movie had long ended and she had traced every single inch of Casey’s back twice over.

“Then,” a pleasure-drunk Casey muttered, “I guess we change positions? If your hands aren't tired.” 

Her hands would never be tired enough to stop before Casey told her to quit.

They switched places, now with Casey on her stomach on the couch, Alex being granted the honor of straddling her thighs so she could dig into the places on the lower back that were previously too awkward to reach. From here, though, Casey couldn't grip her thigh, and although at times it had hurt it had felt meaningful to her. Perhaps they could go back to the former position later, or maybe they could do it again another day.

“Alex,” Casey cried out at one point, and Alex had cooed softly in response. “I felt it,” she affirmed, her thumb tracing a circle around a point where Casey was particularly tense, “I’ve got it, I’ll keep working.” 

“I know,” Casey mumbled, her cheek pressed against the couch material, “I just- saying your name feels natural.” 

“...then say my name as much as you like,” Alex said softly in response, glad Casey’s eyes were closed so she couldn't be teased about the flush that had spread across her cheeks.

She loved the way Casey was laid out for her, her ability to now admire every inch with no awkwardness, expectations clear. The expectation was to touch as much as she possibly could and she was very, very eager to do so. She let her hands roam freely, symmetrical across the axis of her spine but otherwise unbounded. She traced a line up the rhomboid, from near her arm to her neck, and when Casey squirmed she laughed softly and traced the length of her spine to soothe. She found the spot that had started it all on her neck again and noted the way Casey’s jaw clenched immediately. 

“You feel so soft,” Alex whispered, “so perfect.” 

“Are you drunk?” The eye that wasn't pressed into the couch blinked open, an eyebrow cocking at her, and Alex glanced over at the almost empty wine bottle with a bit of bashfulness in her expression, but Casey was only teasing. 

“Maybe,” she admitted, “But all it's doing is lowering my inhibitions. I’ve always thought you were … I’ve wanted to…” 

“You’ve wanted to touch me?” Casey asked, as though she was surprised about it, which Alex thought was rather ridiculous now.

“Obviously.” Alex grumbled, deciding to shut her up by kneading her thumb into one of the spots she had deciphered earlier, and just as she had expected Casey’s eyes squeezed shut and her mouth closed immediately. Alex grinned smugly. When Casey’s eye opened again it was scrunched in a playful glare.

“You have all of me at your disposal, then.” Casey’s voice lowered, huffing softly with amusement at the way Alex stopped breathing when she said that. 

“Flip over,” Alex breathed after only a few seconds of hesitation, lifting up on her knees so Casey had the space to writhe onto her back rather than her belly. 

Green eyes looked up at her expectantly, and Alex kissed her.

Her hands kept exploring, even though her mouth was preoccupied. Her tongue slid into Casey’s mouth, probing gently and exploring, and her hands did the same on her collarbones, sliding up to smooth over her shoulders again and wrapping her fingers around for a quick, smug second to feel Casey moan into her mouth when the knot was stimulated again. 

“Alex,” Casey hissed, and then again more insistently when Alex did it again. Alex laughed, softly, kissing the bridge of her nose and her forehead, agreeably letting her hands travel lower. 

The solar plexus was a point at which she knew she could provide the delightful responses she had been basking in, but she wanted to take her time doing so. 

Her lips were so plump and so perfect, so soft and so warm. Alex could drown in the way her body was made, in the way she used it when she pressed her hips upward to be closer against Alex’s own, in the way her arms felt tangled around Alex’s shoulders. She kissed her, and then they broke for air and she kissed her again, never wanting to stop.

Eventually she let her go because she could feel the way Casey was panting, her chest rising and falling faster, her face coated in a blush that needed a longer pause. Alex smiled, kissing her jawline, then the space at which her jaw met her ear, making her way down. 

Her neck was soft, her pulse fluttering under her skin when Alex bit lightly on her pulse point, and Casey groaned. Alex’s hands slid under her arms to grasp at her shoulders, making room to press her lips against her collarbone, making her way down and across the length of one before lavishing the other with the same attention. 

“You touch me as if I’m something fragile,” Casey muttered, and Alex paused. 

“I touch you because you're someone special,” she smiled, pressing her cheek against Casey’s skin so she could let Casey see the genuine adoration in blue eyes, “And I want you to feel like you are.” 

Something in Casey’s eyebrows twitched, as though it was a necessary pain to hear that. Alex felt her eyes soften, widen slightly before she could disguise the realization, but instead of closing down Casey grasped her by the collar and pulled her up to kiss her again, which Alex more than happily indulged.

“I like it,” Casey whispered to her when they separated a little time later, “I like the way you touch me.” 

“Good,” Alex kissed her cheek again, “I want to keep doing it.” 

Casey scoffed a soft laugh, arching her back high as if showing off all the skin that was for Alex’s taking. Alex grinned and indulged her in that, too. She picked up where she had left off, kissing trails down the flat of her chest.

Casey had said her entire body was on limits, essentially, Alex had her consent, but she decided tonight was not for sexual conquest, she only wanted to feel, to make warm, to relax. Besides, despite the occasional wriggle or protest from Casey, it seemed like the faux blonde was on the verge of falling asleep, lulled by a combination of intense exercise, food, a warm shower and Alex’s hands into a blissful haze that Alex did not want to interrupt. 

Because of that, Alex skipped over her breast, leaving her bra on to admire but not engage with. She traced the faint outlines of Casey’s ribs, and revealed in the contented sigh that Casey made as she did so. She pressed a kiss to Casey’s sternum, right above the place at which the bra cups connected and again once right below it, her hands tightening in grip slightly in a way that she knew would feel good as she slowly slid her hands down to grip at Casey’s waist. Casey groaned again, shifting one way and then the other, as if she wanted to feel the pressure even tighter on both sides. Alex pressed her down and closer and a small huff was elicited, which she smiled at, pressing her lips against the space below the one she had just done.

The TV shut down automatically after receiving no input for long over an hour, so they were bathed in darkness, the backrest of the couch shielding them from the little light the kitchen could shine into the living room. Alex couldn't see her smile anymore but she could feel it which she was utterly content with. 

Alex kissed against her upper abdomen, her hands resting comfortably around Casey's waist as she lowered her lips to kiss a line down the linea alba, smoothing her tongue over the soft ridges of Casey’s abs. Casey squirmed, tilting her head back as her hands reached to smooth into Alex's hair. 

She smoothed her hands lower, thumbs extending as far as she could while remaining by Casey’s sides, traveling down to grasp at her hips, before gathering at the line of symmetry and then pushing gently back up. Casey’s leg kicked out automatically and Alex grinned triumphantly. 

“How do you know how to do this?” Casey’s voice was slightly higher, her tone almost like a loose whine that sounded delicious in the rasp that came with her vocals. “I- I’ve…”

“I know,” Alex pressed a kiss to her navel, and then with a teasing bit of smugness, “I’m very good.” 

Casey’s eye roll was noted in feeling even when Alex couldn't see it and she laughed, softly, kissing the small ribbon on the woman's pajama pants before finally raising her head again, stretching her arms over her head to ease some of the tension being hunched over her form had so long had created. It was a necessary kind of soreness, one she was exceptionally proud of.

“You are very good,” she admitted after a pause, and then felt Casey’s hands tugging at the top of her thighs, pulling her slightly off balance and pulling her down against her. 

Alex breathed out, slowly, her thirst for Casey’s form satisfied, and Casey kissed her hairline and then began to run her fingers through the silky blonde hair gently.

“Do you want to turn the TV back on?” Alex asked, even as she nuzzled her head gently into the crook of Casey’s neck, a position at which she surely would have no clue what was playing if it was.

“No,” Casey murmured, “I want to stay like this.” 

“Mm,” Alex smiled and kissed her neck, her arms settling gently to frame Casey’s face, and she felt her sigh deeply. 

“I’ll wake up sore despite all your effort if we fall asleep like this,” Casey smiled, but it was gentle, not a real argument.

“Then I could do it all again tomorrow morning,” Alex responded sleepily, having finally achieved a position at which she was the epitome of comfort. Casey laughed softly, kissed the side of her face, and closed her eyes.