#top 20 most beautiful places in the world

[ja3yun]

In Safe Hands

roommate!heejake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, dom!heeseung, softdom!jake (kinda), oral (m&f. rec), fingering, double pen, anal, squirting, mentions of choking, slapping (twice, not hard), spanking, spit, pet names (angel, sweetheart, slut), pure filth, heejake eat reader out at the same time but that's about as mlm as it gets, not proof read, anything else lmk. w.c: 19.6k synopsis: your brother, sunghoon, has left you in the safe hands of his two best friends. little does he know that those 'safe' hands are about to be all over you. a/n: hi! okay this is pure smut, like basically a pwp atp. my beautiful bestie ruby @dollyyun, this one is for you! i wrote this entirely for all your horn needs <3 i hope you love it! as always, comments, reblogs, etc etc are all welcome! this isn't something i usually do but for ruby i will.

With a grunt of effort, your older brother hoists your bulky box of unread books up the narrow staircase, muscles straining against the weight. His face is set in a grimace, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he curses under his breath. “Why the hell did she pack so many books?” he mutters, breathless. 

He knows he should be cursing his friends more than the weight of your belongings - they’re the ones who thought living on the top floor of a six-story building with no elevator was a brilliant idea. Then again, he should probably be cursing himself the most. It was his bright idea to suggest that you temporarily move in with his best friends Jake and Heeseung.

You and your brother, Sunghoon, are finally moving out of your parents' house. The desire for freedom, for space that doesn’t involve the relentless noise of your four younger siblings, has been simmering for years. At first, Sunghoon planned to move out alone, excited to claim his independence and a taste of solitude. But you weren’t about to let him escape so easily. You pleaded, over and over, wearing him down with promises that you wouldn’t be a burden, that you’d pay your share of the rent on time without fail, and that he’d barely even notice you were there.

And because Sunghoon has a massive soft spot for you, it wasn’t long before he caved. 

But your earnest pleas and big doe eyes have created a bit of a problem. The one-bedroom flat Sunghoon initially secured for himself was definitely not equipped to house both of you. With no other option but to look for a larger place, Sunghoon is forced to start scouring the rental market again. Meanwhile, your parents, seizing the opportunity, quickly repurposed your old rooms. His room became your youngest brother’s new, much-coveted space, and yours was transformed into your mom’s long-awaited home office. The message was clear: they loved you both, but they were more than ready to reclaim their home. It was as if they were holding open the door with one hand and pushing you through it with the other. They wanted you out as badly as you wanted to leave.

The bond between you and Sunghoon has always been unbreakable. As the two eldest in a large family, you’ve naturally gravitated towards each other for support.

At 22, Sunghoon has always taken on the protective role, while you, at 20, have been his closest companion. With your other siblings much younger - at least a seven-year age gap between them and the two of you - there were countless moments when it felt like it was just the two of you against the world. The late-night talks, the inside jokes, the shared burden of babysitting - those memories have created an unspoken understanding that makes living together now seem natural, almost like slipping into a familiar rhythm.

And that’s how you’ve ended up here, in Sunghoon’s best friend’s tiny flat, your temporary refuge until Sunghoon manages to secure a new lease on a place that can fit you both. The apartment, perched at the very top of a creaking, century-old building, is barely big enough for its current occupants, let alone one more, but they insisted on helping. 

Since this living arrangement is only temporary, there’s no point in unpacking your belongings just to repack them again in a few weeks. The result is a cramped, cluttered mess; the room looks more like a makeshift warehouse than a living space. Yet, neither of the boys seems particularly disgruntled by the chaos. If anything, they look almost amused as they manoeuvre around the piles of boxes.

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Sunghoon stumbles into the flat, his breath ragged and his legs burning from the climb. He barely manages to get the door open before letting the heavy box of books drop at his feet with a dull thud. He bends forward, resting his hands on his knees as he takes a moment to catch his breath, sweat trickling down his temples.

His eyes scan the small living room, which is already in disarray. Jake and Heeseung are busy shifting their couch and other furniture around, trying to carve out a space for the mountain of boxes that have taken over their home.

“Thanks for letting her stay here, guys. I know it’s a big ask,” Sunghoon huffs out his appreciation, still slightly breathless. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and carefully climbs over a few stacked boxes to get closer to them. There’s sincerity in his voice, a touch of guilt too, knowing that his sister’s sudden arrival will most likely cause a tear in their normal routines.

Jake’s face lights up with his trademark bright smile, his eyes crinkling into happy crescents. He waves a hand dismissively as if brushing away any notion of inconvenience. “It’s no worries,” he replies, his tone warm and reassuring. “She’s always fun to have around.” His voice is genuine, and there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes. It’s clear he means it, and it’s enough to ease some of the tension in Sunghoon’s shoulders.

Heeseung, who has been busy adjusting a leaning bookshelf against the wall, turns to face Sunghoon, a small grin upturning his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay here too?” he teases, tossing a can of beer toward Sunghoon in a slow, lazy arc.

Catching the can, Sunghoon replies with a soft chuckle, his fingers curling around the cold metal. He presses it against his cheek for a moment, savouring the coolness before cracking it open. “Nah, I’ve got Mars to crash with,” he replies, his voice softening slightly at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. While your only option was his friends’ crowded flat, he had a much more appealing alternative in his girlfriend’s place.

Jake’s laugh breaks the brief silence, a low and knowing chuckle that causes his shoulders to shake. “To fuck, you mean?” he quips, raising a single eyebrow with a playful smirk tugging at his lips. 

The boy shrugs and takes a long gulp of his beer, giving an unrepentant gesture. "Either way, it's a bed, isn't it?" he replies, his mouth twisting into a relaxed grin. "Plus, I don't really want Y/N to hear me shaking the house, if you know what I mean.." His tone of voice is light, playful, yet his eyes are filled with slight horror at the thought.

He loves you - he truly does - but he and Mars seldom have undisturbed time together, and the idea of enjoying a few weeks without frequent interruptions is too appealing to pass up. The thought of you crashing on a mattress in the living room while her bedframe taps repeatedly against the wall makes him quiver. That’s a level of sibling intimacy he’s sure neither of you wants to reach.

“Oh, so you’re alright with her hearing us?” Jake's eyes gleam with mischief, clearly enjoying how easily he can rile up his friend. He leans back against the arm of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for the inevitable comeback.

Setting his beer down, Sunghoon turns to face him fully, his expression suddenly serious. “As long as you keep it to her hearing it and nothing else,” he replies sharply, his voice carrying a warning edge. The room falls into a brief, awkward silence that Jake breaks with a chuckle, amused by Sunghoon’s protective streak. But Sunghoon’s gaze doesn’t waver, and he leans forward, his voice dropping to a low tone. “I’m serious. If either of you so much as touch her, I will personally saw your cocks off with rocks.”

Jake’s laugh dies in his throat, replaced by a wary smile. He exchanges a glance with Heeseung, who gives him a knowing look, a silent conversation between them before collecting themselves. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Heeseung reassures him, his voice calm and measured. “Y/N’s a good girl anyway.” He nods as he speaks, trying to diffuse the tension but a flicker of spark as he calls you a good girl flashes in his iris’. 

“Yeah, she knows better than to jump on Hee’s infested cock,” Jake quips with a smart-ass grin, dispelling the weird aura that this conversation has brought between the three of them. The words spill out effortlessly, taking jabs at his best friend comes so naturally, and Heeseung’s face twists in sarcastic offence.

“At least girls wanna fuck me, huh, Mister ‘it’s been three weeks’,” Heeseung shoots back without missing a beat, his voice dripping with mock pity. He leans closer to Jake, nudging him playfully with his elbow. The banter between them escalates, their voices overlapping as they trade jabs like two kids in a schoolyard. The energy in the room is electric, charged with the sort of camaraderie that comes from knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

“Shut the fu-” 

“Guys, both of you shut up.” Sunghoon’s tone is commanding, the kind of no-nonsense voice that instantly demands attention as he cuts through their back-and-forth nips. Jake and Heeseung fall silent, their grins fading as they see his serious gaze. “I’m serious. No touching my sister,” Sunghoon continues, each word deliberate and heavy. “End of story.”

Jake and Heeseung exchange a quick look, and like schoolchildren caught red-handed, they nod in unison, their earlier bravado slipping away. “Alright, alright, we get it,” Jake finally says, raising his hands in surrender, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face. “Message received, man.” 

Heeseung doesn’t say a word, instead looking down, his mind deep in contemplation as he bites his lip.

Sunghoon watches them for a moment longer, his stare sharp and unwavering, before he finally relaxes, picking up his beer again. He takes a long, slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe the heat still coursing through his body. “Good,” he mutters, but there’s a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips now. “Just making sure.”

Your footsteps echo in the narrow corridor as you trudge up the stairs, carrying a small box that is featherweight compared to the heavy one your brother had just hauled up not five minutes ago. As you step inside, Jake spots you and immediately rushes over, kicking some stray bags out of your path to clear the way. “Watch yourself, pretty,” he says with a playful grin.

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you reply with a smile, your tone warm and appreciative. His use of the sudden nickname causes a faint blush to creep up your cheeks, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You’re used to Jake’s harmless flirting, it’s just part of who he is, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t catch you off guard from time to time. There's always a momentary flutter in your chest whenever he turns that easy charm on you, and this time is no different. 

As you hand the box over to him, your fingers graze his, a brief touch that sends a spark through your skin but you quickly shake it off, stepping away from him as he stacks the box on top of others.

You take a moment to survey your surroundings. Though you’ve been in this flat more times than you have fingers, the knowledge that it’s now going to be your home for the next few weeks makes you see it from a completely different perspective. 

The guys have definitely made an effort to clean; the place looks more put together than usual if you take away your abundance of bags and boxes, but there’s a strange vibe hanging in the air. It's an odd mix of familiarity and uncertainty. You’ve only ever been here as a guest, mostly to watch movies with your brother, his girlfriend, and the two tenants. But now, you’ll be doing everything here - sleeping, showering, studying - things you never imagined doing under this roof.

It doesn’t help that you wouldn’t exactly call yourself close with both of them, well, with Jake, maybe you could consider yourselves friendly. He always goes out of his way to make you feel welcome whenever you visit. If you need an extra blanket, he’s there with one almost before you can ask. If you’re in the mood for tea or coffee, Jake seems to magically appear with a steaming mug in hand. There’s a warmth to him, a natural generosity that makes you feel at ease, even if he turns the situation horny in 0.2 seconds. He's got a knack for toeing the line between friendly and flirty, but somehow it never crosses into uncomfortable territory. Instead, it just makes the atmosphere a little lighter, a little more fun.

Heeseung, on the other hand, is a bit more of a mystery. He’s always been somewhat reserved around you, distant even. Not cold, exactly, but certainly not as openly friendly as Jake. You’ve never taken it personally, though. You know he isn’t the type to shower people with affection or heap on praise. He’s more of an observer, the kind who stands on the outskirts of the chaos, quietly taking it all in rather than diving into the fray. There’s a calmness to him that can feel almost intimidating, but there’s also a sense of steadiness that you find strangely comforting. Still, the idea of sharing a space with someone who keeps to himself so much leaves you wondering how the dynamics might shift now that you’ll be living under the same roof.

“You got many more bags?” Heeseung asks, his voice carrying curiosity as he glances over at you.

“Uh, two more?” you reply, slightly sheepish.

Sunghoon sighs, clearly exasperated. “I told you to pack light for now,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. To be fair, you might have overpacked just a smidge and not listened to him when he told you to only bring necessary things with you to the new house and toss out the rest, but the last thing you want is to be caught without something important - hence the extra bags.

“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” Heeseung offers, his tone matter-of-fact.

“I can help,” you quickly volunteer, not wanting to seem like a burden, but he simply shakes his head, already turning toward the stairs. Without another word, he jogs down the steps to retrieve the remaining bags, his long strides making quick work of the descent. You watch him go, a grateful smile tugging at your lips because you know for a fact that those last two bags are the heaviest - you probably should have told him that.

As you stand there, Jake drapes an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side, his touch light but familiar. “We’ll have the best time, huh?” he says with a grin, his voice full of easy confidence.

You look up at him, matching his smile as you offer him a half-hug in return. “For sure,” you reply, feeling a bit of your earlier anxiety melt away. Jake has always had a way of making you feel at ease, his energy infectious in the best possible way.

Sunghoon, however, can’t help but notice the physical contact, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches Jake’s arm around you. He doesn’t say anything, though; he knows Jake well enough to understand that this kind of skinship is just part of who he is. Too many times has Sunghoon been on the receiving end of Jake’s clinginess, so he lets it slide, albeit with a small sigh of resignation.

A moment later, Heeseung appears at the bottom of the final flight of stairs, grunting softly as he makes his way back up, each step slow and deliberate under the weight of your bags. His muscles strain visibly beneath his t-shirt, the fabric stretching tight across his shoulders and arms. “Did you pack a dead body in here?” he huffs, finally reaching the top and setting the bags down with a heavy thud. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he catches his breath, his lean, strong frame clearly pushed to its limits by the sheer weight.

Even as he exhales, his muscles begin to relax, but your eyes are drawn to the way the veins still protrude along his forearms, winding like thick cords beneath his skin. His biceps, now flexed from the exertion, stand out in sharp relief, the definition in his arms a testament to his strength. It’s clear that Heeseung is no stranger to physical labour - his body is built for it - but even he seems momentarily winded by the effort, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

You aren’t oblivious to how attractive Heeseung is, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Ever since Sunghoon first introduced you to his friends, you’ve been aware of the magnetic pull both of them seem to have on you. And honestly, who wouldn’t feel that way? Jake, with his effortless charm and eyes so dreamy they could melt stone, has a way of drawing you in without even trying. 

Then there’s Heeseung - tall and broad, with a quiet confidence that radiates off him in waves. His smile, rare as it is, sends your heart into a wild spin whenever you’re lucky enough to see it. There’s something about his reserved nature, the way he watches the room with those sharp eyes, that makes him even more intriguing.

As he straightens up, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, there’s a brief moment where you catch yourself staring, fascinated by the raw power in his frame but the slight cracks from his shoulders speak volumes, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for making him carry such a heavy load.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice sincere as you meet his eyes, hoping to convey just how much you appreciate his help. He simply nods, brushing it off as no big deal, and there’s a slight, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth.

Bending down, you reach for one of the bags to help out, wanting to ease some of the burden. But before you can get a grip on it, Jake swoops in and grabs it first. You watch as he lifts it, his arm muscles flexing with the effort. You can see him struggle with the weight, his smile faltering for just a second but Jake being Jake, tries to play it off with his usual nonchalance, shrugging the bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of the other one. 

“If you take the other handle, you can help me carry it and I’ll show you to your room,” he says, flashing you that familiar grin that always seems to promise mischief and fun.

You smile back and nod, stepping in to grab the other handle. The two of you share the load and together, you manoeuvre down the narrow hallway, leaving Sunghoon and Heeseung behind.

With your back turned you miss the subtle flicker of annoyance that crosses Heeseung’s face as he watches you giggle over something Jake just said. His jaw tightens, and he shifts his weight slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before turning away. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, a mix of frustration and something else.

Sunghoon, however, catches the change in his friend’s expression. Turning to Heeseung, he looks dead serious, his usual relaxed demeanour replaced with a steely resolve. “Look after her, yeah?” he says, his voice low but firm. “I trust you more than Jake with this, don’t do something stupid.”

Your brother isn’t distrusting of Jake, but you’re easily swayed and Jake has a smooth tongue, he can’t help but imagine the two of you under the same roof and what could happen. And Heeseung, even if that look gave Sunghoon a reason to be concerned, would know better than to touch you.

“Don’t worry,” Heeseung replies, his voice steady. “She’s in safe hands.” There’s a weight behind his words, something that Sunghoon misses entirely.

It’s not Jake he should be worried about.

_____

The past three weeks have been nothing short of incredible. The newfound freedom from your parents has made you feel like a new person. There’s a weight lifted off your shoulders that you hadn’t realised was there until it was gone. 

Living with Jake and Heeseung has been refreshing; they respect your privacy in a way that you’re not used to. They don’t bombard you with a million questions about where you’ve been or why you’re going out at odd hours of the night, unlike your parents, who seem to hover over your every move, they trust you to make your own choices. 

Jake, in particular, brings a lightness to the flat that you’ve grown to adore. His infectious humour seems to brighten up even the dullest of days. He has a way of pulling you out of your shell with his playful teasing and silly antics. But then, there’s his flirting - relentless and almost too easy. It’s always just on the line of being harmless fun, but lately, you’ve noticed your chest fluttering whenever he’s around. Like the time he’d cornered you in the kitchen, grinning as he leaned in close under the pretence of grabbing something from the cabinet behind you. Or that morning when he "accidentally" walked into your room while you were changing, only to stand there gawking at your tits before insisting on making you breakfast to make up for it. You’ve tried to play it cool, but his attention has started to make your heart race, and you can’t help but wonder if he notices.

Heeseung, however, is a different story. While he has been welcoming enough, there’s a strange awkwardness between you two that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not that he’s unfriendly or cold, just...distant. You’ve racked your brain trying to figure out why. There’s no clear reason for it, so you’ve concluded that it’s probably because you’re invading his space. After all, the idea of doing Sunghoon a favour by letting his little sister crash here is probably better in theory than in practice. 

You’re aware that Heeseung’s never lived with a girl before; maybe it’s just a bit of an adjustment for him. Perhaps he’s not used to the softer touches around the flat, like your skincare bottles lining the bathroom shelf or your fluffy slippers by the door. So, you’ve been careful to keep your distance, to not get in his way or make him feel uncomfortable. The last thing you want is to be a bother to him when he’s being so kind and giving up his own room for you, sharing a bedroom with Jake to accommodate your presence.

On Thursday evening, you come home from your shift at the cafe, tired but content. As you slip off your shoes, you notice only one other pair at the door. That’s strange, by this time, both Jake and Heeseung are usually back home, lounging around or playing video games. 

Turning the corner, your breath catches in your throat. Heeseung is there, sitting on the edge of the couch, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His chest is bare, revealing a toned, lean physique that you hadn't seen up close before. His skin is tanned and smooth, glistening slightly because he’s just stepped out of the shower. 

Your eyes trace the faint lines of his abs, the way they ripple subtly as he moves. Below his navel, a small trail of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his joggers, and you find yourself staring for a moment longer than you should, teeth instinctively biting the skin of your bottom lip. The sight is unexpectedly intimate, almost like you’ve walked in on something private, and your cheeks heat up with a mixture of embarrassment and something else you can’t quite name, or rather, simply don’t wish to acknowledge.

“Hey,” his voice is gruff, indicating that he hasn’t spoken in a while. His tone is low, almost raspy, sending a small shiver down your spine. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and his eyes stay fixed on you, waiting. “How was work?”

Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice you at first, busy towelling off his damp pink hair, but when he looks up and catches your eye, there’s a brief flash of surprise on his face.

For a second, neither of you moves. His gaze holds yours, and you feel pinned under the weight of it, your heart thudding in your chest. Then, his eyebrows raise in a twitch and he nods at you in acknowledgement. 

The conversation is trivial and bland and you expect it from Heeseung, considering this is how every interaction between you both has gone since living together. But right now, with the godly sight in front of you, your mouth feels dry, and you find it incredibly hard to piece together words for an answer that don’t include the filthy thoughts racing through your mind. Your gaze flickers over his bare torso again, lingering on the way his abs subtly flex with each breath, the light sheen of water still clinging to his skin.

It doesn’t help that you’re ovulating. That’s probably why you’re acting so feral over a man’s body right now. But then again, this isn’t just any man - this is Lee Heeseung. He’s perfect in every way, from his strong jawline and pretty nose to his long, kissable neck and the faint v-line that disappears into his sweatpants. Your eyes trail lower, curiosity burning within you. You’d love to expand further on your thoughts about him if only you knew what you were working with, but your imagination will have to suffice for now. 

When you don’t respond right away, Heeseung’s expression shifts slightly. He leaves the towel on the couch, his eyes narrowing with concern, and takes a few steps closer to you. The sudden proximity sends your heart into overdrive, and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin, his presence electric. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks softly, his voice more gentle now, laced with genuine worry. “Did something happen?”

You snap back to reality, blinking rapidly as you try to shake off the haze of your thoughts. Your cheeks flush, and you clear your throat, hoping he can’t read your mind. “Oh, uh - yeah, I’m fine!” you finally stammer out, forcing a smile. “Work was just...busy, I guess. A lot of orders today.”

Of course, Heeseung is dubious of your sudden stuttering, wondering what on earth has gotten into you. Then, for a split second, your pupils dart to his chest then back to his face, and that is all the clues he needs to conclude his thoughts. You’re nervous. 

He would never dare tell Sunghoon that he’s been wishing for this moment for the past year. He was so eager to have you stay, thinking that it would be different from how it has turned out; Heeseung was going to use the opportunity to get close to you, figure out your opinions on him and see what he could capitalise on in an effort to make you crumble beneath him. He didn’t exactly need forever with you, one night of you screaming his name would suffice.

Heeseung isn’t one to walk around without a shirt on, so seeing him like this is a rare and unexpected sight. You've never seen him this way before, and it's clear that he never anticipated how much it would affect you.

Normally, you’ve shown little interest, or at least you’ve managed to hide it well. But now, standing before him with your eyes betraying a flicker of something more, Heeseung feels a strange excitement building in his chest, hammering away with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

But that changed once Sunghoon shot that warning look, even fearless Jake was momentarily quaking at the intense gaze of his eyes. Still, you’ve also made it impossible for him to get close. 

Though ever the opportunist, Heeseung spots an opening right now, any concerns about Sunghoon’s threats out the window as he looks into your wide, pretty eyes.

A slow, teasing smirk tugs at his lips, and he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even more. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, velvety tone that sends a wave of heat crashing over you. “You look a little flustered.”

You swallow hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “I’m fine,” you insist, but it comes out a little breathless, betraying the effect he’s having on you. God, why is he so fucking hot?

Heeseung’s eyes narrow playfully, and he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “If I didn’t know any better,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing your skin, “I’d say you were distracted.” His hand reaches out, fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver through you.

You don’t know how to handle this side of him. Heeseung is usually reserved, his words careful and measured. But now, there’s a boldness to him - a confidence that makes your stomach flutter. Flustered and overwhelmed, you decide it’s best to retreat before you embarrass yourself further. “I-I’m going to get ready for bed.” You turn on your heel, ready to escape to the safety of your room.

But before you can take another step, Heeseung’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist firmly but gently. He pulls you back toward him, his eyes dark and searching. “Why do you do that?” he asks, his voice suddenly serious.

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “Do what?”

“Avoid me,” he clarifies, his tone both curious and frustrated. “You’re always so keen to talk to Jake, but when it’s me, you just…scurry off.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, your mind scrambling for an explanation. You shake your head, trying to appear calm. “It’s not what you think.”

Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of playful challenge and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. “It’s not?” he repeats, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly. “Because I’m starting to think you might not like me.”

His words are teasing, but there’s a shadow of insecurity in his stare, a hint that he might be more serious than he’s letting on. Your heart aches at the thought that he might feel unwanted or disliked. You shake your head vehemently. “No, not at all,” you rush to say, your voice soft. “It’s just…you’re so quiet and distant with me. I thought maybe you saw me as a burden, like I was getting in your way or something. So I just, find it better to stay away.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows in confusion, clearly taken aback by your words. He seems to be processing what you said, his mind sifting through memories of the past few weeks. Was he cold to you? He hadn’t thought so but maybe all those times hiding in his room when you were watching TV with Jake, giggling and happy as you both shared inside jokes, or how he purposefully left early to give you time to have a shower without the worry of his presence, gave you an impression he didn’t want to leave.

His eyes search yours as if he’s seeing you for the first time in weeks. You lick your lips nervously, and he notices the way your pupils are blown wide, a hint of want flickering in them. The knowing hits him like a wave, giving him the courage to say what he’s been holding back for so long. Heeseung leans in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours as he speaks, “Do you know why I do that? Keep my distance?”

“Why?” you whisper, your breath hitching.

“Because I’m trying so hard to control myself around you,” he admits, his voice low and rough with desire. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and charged. Before you can fully process them, he presses his body against yours, backing you up until you’re pinned between him and the wall. His spare hand comes up to steady you, fingers splayed across your waist, and you feel the firm, unmistakable press of his member against your stomach.

Your breath catches in your throat, your entire body buzzing with electricity. His gaze is locked on yours, his expression intense and hungry, waiting for any sign of rejection or acceptance from you. When you don’t pull away, his lips curl into a smirk, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “You have no idea how hard it’s been,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, “to keep my hands off you.”

You shiver, your body responding to his words in a way that leaves you breathless, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. “Then don’t,” you murmur, your voice barely audible but carrying all the weight of your desires. Would Sunghoon kill you both for this? Yes. But are you clouded with the thought of getting fucked by the man in front of you? Abso-fucking-lty.

Heeseung’s resolve snaps the moment he catches the glint of desire in your eyes, raw and unmistakable. He doesn’t hesitate; his hand grips your face with a roughness that sends a shiver down your spine, dragging you in as his lips crash into yours with an intensity that’s anything but careful. There’s nothing gentle about it - his kiss is fierce, almost aggressive, fueled by pent-up lust that he’s no longer bothering to control, any thoughts about Sunghoon and his warning gone from his mind.

His mouth moves against yours in a frenzy, urgent and demanding, as if he’s trying to devour you whole. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. He tastes like heat and desperation, and you meet him with equal fervour, your tongues tangling in a messy dance of want. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging slightly, almost punishingly, before his mouth slants over yours again, deeper, harder.

Your hands slide up his torso, fingers skimming over the slight ridges of his abs, and he groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a surge of heat straight to your core. You’re clawing at him now, nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Heeseung’s grip on you tightens, his fingers pressing into your waist with bruising force, anchoring you in place as he pours every ounce of his hunger into the kiss.

He presses his body against yours, his arousal evident as his hips grind into you, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your stomach. He’s not holding back anymore, and the feel of him so close, so ready, only makes you more desperate. You arch into him, letting out a small, breathy moan that seems to spur him on. His lips move to your jaw, biting and sucking a path down to your neck, leaving marks that he knows will linger, and you’re gasping, fingers tangled in his hair as you tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his voice thick with need. “You drive me crazy. Do you know that?”

Heeseung’s breathing is ragged, hot against your skin as his mouth trails back up, capturing your lips again in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, messy and unrestrained. He shifts his grip, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them roughly before he hoists you up with ease. Your legs wrap around him, locking tight as he manoeuvres you toward the bedroom you’re currently occupying. The journey is a blur of heated kisses and frantic touches, your nails scraping along his shoulders and arms, urging him on.

He barely pauses as he reaches the bedroom door, booting it open with a forceful kick. The door slams against the wall, but he doesn’t care; he’s too far gone, driven by pure, primal need. With a growl, he tosses you onto the bed, not bothering to be gentle. You bounce slightly on the mattress, the impact sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

Heeseung climbs on top of you, his body pressing you down into the sheets. There’s a wild, almost feral look in his eyes, darkened with lust as he stares down at you. He’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tense with barely restrained desire, and you can feel the weight of it in the air, thick and charged.

“I need to ruin you,” Heeseung breathes, his voice low, gravelly, and trembling on the edge of a plea and a command. His words are both a question and a demand, and the sheer hunger in his tone sends a shiver coursing through your entire body. “Please, let me ruin you.”

Though he poses the question, he doesn’t give you time to answer; his lips crash into yours with renewed urgency, kissing you with an almost punishing force. It’s all teeth, tongue, and desperation, and you moan into his mouth, matching his intensity, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough. His hands roam your body with rough, greedy touches, fingers digging into your hips, your waist, everywhere he can reach as if he’s memorising the feel of you under his hands so he can sculpt you out of clay at a later date.

His hips grind into yours, and you gasp at the hard, insistent press of him against your core. Heeseung catches the sound, and his lips curl into a dark, satisfied smirk against your mouth. “God, you’re so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction and barely restrained lust.

Without warning, he grabs the hem of your top, yanking it up and over your head in one swift motion. The fabric catches briefly, but he doesn’t care, he just rips it away, tossing it aside with a growl of impatience. Your bra is next, his fingers hooking under the straps and pulling until the clasp snaps open. He doesn’t bother being gentle, practically tearing it off you, and then he pauses, eyes locked on your bare chest.

“Fuck,” Heeseung breathes, his gaze shamelessly ogling your breasts, drinking in the sight of you with a hunger that makes your heart race. “You’re perfect.” The way he looks at you - like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can satisfy him - makes heat pool low in your belly.

Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth, capturing one of your nipples between his lips with a sudden, rough intensity. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, hot and wet, before he sucks hard, drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches instinctively. The contrast between the softness of his lips, the roughness of his tongue, and the sharp bite of his teeth has you moaning his name, each sensation driving you wild.

“Heeseung, fuck-” you gasp, your voice breaking as he switches between sucking, licking, and lightly nipping at your sensitive skin. Each movement sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you buck your hips up into his, desperate for more friction, more of him, everywhere.

Heeseung’s free hand slides down your body, fingers trailing over your heated skin, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping beneath. His touch is bold, impatient, and he doesn’t waste time, finding your folds with practised ease. The moment his fingers make contact, you both let out a sharp gasp. You’re wet, slick with arousal, and the feel of you against his fingers is enough to make him groan low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your nipple as he continues to work you with his mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a rough, breathless whisper. “All this for me?”

His fingers dip into your folds, sliding through your slickness with an agonizingly slow, deliberate motion that leaves you breathless. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation, and you can feel the heat building, your core tightening as his fingers tease your entrance. Heeseung’s thumb brushes over your clit, drawing a strangled moan from your lips, and he groans in response, the sound low and primal.

He keeps one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he slowly pushes a finger inside you, feeling you stretch and clench around him. You’re so tight, so hot, and the feeling of his finger sliding in and out, curling to hit that perfect spot, has your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The combined sensation of his mouth tugging on your sensitive nipple and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much to bear.

“Heeseung, please,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as you grind against his fingers, needing more, needing everything. The relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his tongue circles and flicks your nipple, has you on the edge, your entire body buzzing with electric heat.

Heeseung’s teeth graze your nipple, biting down just enough to send a shockwave of pleasure and pain through you, and you cry out, hips jerking up as your body seeks more contact, more friction. “You like that?” he rasps, his voice thick with need. “The way I’m making you feel?”

All you can do is moan in response, every nerve in your body alight with the need to be filled, touched, consumed. His fingers slide deeper, curling against your most sensitive spot, and he pulls your nipple with his teeth, sending a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing through you. It’s raw, it’s overwhelming, and you can feel yourself unravelling under his touch, driven by the pure, primal lust that courses between you both.

"Please, Heeseung, faster..." you moan breathlessly, your voice breaking with need as your eyes flutter shut. You let yourself drown in the sensations, feeling every curl of his fingers inside of you, the way they press and drag against your walls with deliberate precision. The pleasure is dizzying, your body tensing and writhing in rhythm with each thrust of his hand.

Heeseung’s mouth finally detaches from your nipple, the cool air against your wet skin sending a shiver through you as he brings his face up, so close that his breath fans over your lips. His eyes are dark, charged with lust and something almost predatory, and the sight only fuels the fire burning inside you. “Can you handle it, angel?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing mockery that makes your skin prickle.

“Yeah...” you pant, shamelessly meeting his gaze, a wild smile spreading across your face. “Go as rough as you want. You wanted to ruin me, right?”

It’s a challenge, and one he’s more than willing to accept. Heeseung’s expression shifts instantly, his entire demeanour hardening with a new, unrestrained intensity. His fingers move faster, plunging into you with renewed vigour as his thumb finds your clit, circling it in tight, relentless motions that have your thighs trembling. The sudden increase in pace sends your senses spiralling, your body arching up to meet every thrust, every swipe of his thumb against your swollen bud. It’s as if you’re floating, weightless, caught in a whirlwind of pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You can’t control the way your body moves with his hand, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat that’s building in your core. Nothing is enough; you need more, need him deeper, harder, faster. Heeseung notices your desperation, the way you’re writhing beneath him, your hips rolling and grinding into his touch, and he smirks, a dark and knowing look flashing in his eyes.

“You’re such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he scoffs, his tone mocking but laced with the kind of filthy affection that makes your entire body quiver. The words send a shock of heat straight through you, and you can’t help the loud, unabashed moan that escapes your lips. His fingers curl inside you, pressing into the perfect spot, and your entire body convulses, thighs trembling as his touch sends you higher.

“Heeseung!” you mewl, your voice breaking in pure happiness, pleasure dancing through your veins. The way his fingers stretch you, three of them now pushing inside, filling you, twisting and curling as his thumb continues to work your clit, is mind-numbing. The steady, relentless pace of his movements combined with the filthy words pouring from his mouth has you seeing stars.

“Oh, you like being called a slut, huh?” Heeseung taunts, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he watches you unravel beneath him. Your response, the way your body responds to his every touch and word, only spurs him on, feeding into the raw, carnal energy between you.

Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, so close that you can feel every word as he whispers them. His teeth sink into your earlobe, rough and possessive, and the sharp sting makes you yelp, the sound quickly dissolving into a breathy moan. “What if I started calling you my pretty slut, huh?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with ownership.

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with an intensity that sends a fresh rush of arousal pooling between your thighs. You feel it, slick and hot, running past his fingers and down your ass cheek, coating you in the evidence of just how much you want this, how much you want him. 

“God, Heeseung,” you gasp, your hips bucking wildly against his hand, desperate and unashamed. His fingers pump into you faster, curling with each thrust, hitting all the right spots that make your mind go blank. You’re lost in the overwhelming sensation, every nerve alight with the tight, twisting pleasure that coils inside you, winding tighter and tighter until you’re right on the edge, ready to snap.

“You’re soaking me,” he teases, his voice low and rough, edged with dark amusement as he feels the fresh wave of arousal coating his fingers. “You really do like being called mine, don’t you?”

Your body answers him before you do, your back arching, and you nod eagerly, biting your lip to suppress the needy moans that threaten to spill out. You’re so close, so achingly close to that release, the familiar knot of pleasure inside you tightening with each movement of his hand. But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Heeseung shifts his body, his fingers slowing down, easing up on their relentless pace, and the knot inside you begins to unravel, pulling you back from the brink.

Your eyes snap open, frustration flashing across your face as Heeseung shakes his head, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “You need to use your words, or else I’ll stop,” he warns, his tone firm and commanding. “Understand?”

You go to nod again, but before you can, Heeseung withdraws his thumb from your clit and presses his palm flat against it instead, the sudden change making you cry out. The weight of his hand on your sensitive nub sends jolts of pleasure sparking through you, but it’s not enough - it's maddeningly close, yet just shy of the friction you need. You try to move, to grind against his palm, but Heeseung holds you down, his strength keeping your hips pinned as he presses his hand more firmly against your pulsing clit.

The rough texture of his skin brushing against your sensitive flesh without the full contact you crave is enough to make you squirm in frustration. You look up at him, your eyes pleading, but Heeseung’s gaze is expectant, patient, and utterly dominant as he watches you, waiting for you to obey him.

“Fuck, yes, yes! I’ll use my words,” you gasp, your voice high and trembling with need. You’re teetering on the brink of losing control, and the need to reach your peak overrides every ounce of pride. “Now please, Heeseung, make me cum.”

Heeseung’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he hears you beg, your desperation feeding his ego. “See? Was that so hard?” he mocks, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. His fingers resume their movement, thrusting into you with renewed vigour, but this time there’s no hesitation, no teasing. He’s relentless, driving his fingers deep and fast, scissoring and curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

His thumb returns to your clit, circling with precise, punishing speed, and the friction is immediate and overwhelming. The knot inside you tightens rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until it’s a white-hot ball of pleasure, ready to explode. Your entire body moves in sync with his hand, hips rolling and grinding as you chase the friction, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity.

“God, yes, Heeseung!” you cry out, your voice breaking as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, the pressure inside you reaching its peak. Heeseung watches you with a fierce, unyielding intensity, his eyes never leaving your face as he works you over that final threshold.

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he feels you tightening around him, your entire body trembling. “Let go for me. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

His words are the final push you need, and you shatter, pleasure ripping through you in powerful, uncontrollable waves. Your vision blurs and your entire body tenses as you cum hard around his fingers, each pulse sending shockwaves of bliss through your veins. Heeseung doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their relentless pace, drawing out every ounce of your climax until you’re a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.

You’re barely aware of anything but the overwhelming sensation as your orgasm crashes over you, drowning out everything else. The tight coil of pleasure finally snaps, leaving you gasping and spent, your body still twitching in the aftermath as Heeseung slows his movements, easing you down gently from your high.

You’re left panting, completely undone, and Heeseung’s gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes dark and full of pride. He pulls his fingers out slowly, savouring the way you shudder at the loss, and he smirks, bringing them up to his lips. Heeseung licks them clean, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you, and the sight is enough to send another shiver down your spine.

“You did so well,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice thick with a twisted mix of pride and possessiveness. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's slower now but still burning with heat, and you melt into it, savoring the lingering buzz of your orgasm coursing through you. His mouth is unyielding against yours, claiming, almost as if he’s staking his territory on your lips. He pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes hooded and dark. “But we aren’t done,” he growls, the words dripping with intent that sends a fresh pulse of arousal through your core.

Heeseung's hands are on you instantly, grabbing the waistband of your bottoms and yanking them down, taking your underwear along in one swift, almost impatient motion. There’s no care in the way he tosses them aside, as if the only thing that matters is having you bare and exposed in front of him. The cool air hits your damp skin, and you shiver, every nerve ending alight as you lie there completely vulnerable under his predatory gaze.

Heeseung’s eyes roam over you, dark and hungry, lingering on every curve, every inch of your flushed skin. There’s a flicker of something wild in his expression, something that makes your heart race as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands move to his own waist, dipping into his grey sweats, and he pushes them down, revealing himself inch by agonizing inch. When his cock finally springs free, you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips.

He’s even more than you imagined - thick, veined, and curving up just right, flushed a deep, enticing pink that makes your mouth water. At least seven inches, standing proud and heavy against his stomach, and the sight alone has your thighs clenching with anticipation. You can almost feel it already, dragging against your walls, filling you so perfectly that your empty core aches in response.

Heeseung notices the way your eyes are glued to him, the shameless hunger written all over your face, and his lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Like what you see, huh?” he taunts, his tone low and laced with mocking arrogance as he wraps a hand around his length, stroking himself slowly. His cock twitches in his grip, precum beading at the tip and dribbling down, and the sight makes your breath hitch.

“Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice filled with desperate need. You’re aching to feel him inside you, to have that perfect thickness stretching you open, but Heeseung doesn’t move, content to watch you squirm. Your hips shift on the bed, trying to relieve the unbearable emptiness, but he just tightens his grip on his cock, refusing to give you what you so clearly crave.

“You’re fucking shameless,” he mocks, his voice dripping with condescension. He runs the head of his cock teasingly through your slick folds, not quite pushing in, just enough to make you shiver. “Dripping all over my cock.”

You shudder, the tip of him nudging against your entrance, teasing but not quite entering, and it’s maddening. “Please, Heeseung, fucking move,” you beg, barely able to keep your voice steady. Your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn’t budge, relishing every second of your desperation.

“What’s the rush, huh?” he says, feigning innocence, though his voice is edged with a dark, sadistic thrill. “Thought you wanted me to ruin you?”

His words hang in the air, taunting, and your body responds on instinct, your hips bucking up, trying to force him deeper. Heeseung lets you feel the head of his cock press in just a little more, but then he pulls back, chuckling darkly as you whine in frustration. The teasing is almost too much, and the smirk on his face tells you he’s enjoying every second of your torment.

“Fuck, please,” you plead, every ounce of pride gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered need. “I need it so bad, Heeseung.”

Finally, he seems satisfied, and his smirk fades into something darker, more feral. “That’s more like it,” he growls, and in one smooth motion, he pushes forward, his cock sinking into you inch by agonising inch. The stretch is perfect, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely, and you gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of him dragging against your insides.

Heeseung doesn’t wait - doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pulls back and slams into you again, the force making the bed creak and your breath hitch. It’s rough and relentless, the curve of his cock hitting all the right spots, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. Your nails dig into his back, trying to anchor yourself, but Heeseung is unyielding, setting a punishing rhythm that leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he pants, his voice rough and laced with mockery as he watches you unravel beneath him. “So fucking desperate. How long have you wanted this?”

His words make you clench tighter around him, your body responding to his taunts in a way that makes your cheeks burn with a mix of shame and arousal. Heeseung notices, and he chuckles, low and dark, leaning in close enough that his breath brushes your ear.

“Tell me,” he growls, his tone edged with a threat that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “Use those words, or I’ll get them out of you.”

A wicked idea sparks in your mind, and instead of answering, you clamp your mouth shut, biting down on your lip to keep any sounds from escaping. You look up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance and smirk. The challenge in your gaze is unmistakable, and you see something dark and feral flicker in Heeseung’s eyes as he realizes what you’re doing.

Heeseung loves submissive partners - loves when they give in to him completely. But there’s something about a brat, something about the way they fight back, that lets him unleash everything he’s got. And the way you’re looking at him now, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg, makes his blood pump with a mixture of lust and exhilaration.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he snarls, the dangerous edge in his voice making your heart race. Without warning, his hand moves up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with an almost brutal grip. His hand is big, easily encompassing your throat, and the pressure he applies makes his veins pop, the sight of them making your breath hitch.

Heeseung squeezes, and your airways constrict, your eyes widening as you feel the breath leaving your lungs. “You’re gonna want to gasp for air soon,” he taunts, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your core.

The lack of air combined with the relentless thrust of his cock deep inside you creates a dizzying, intoxicating sensation. Your brain starts to feel lighter, like you’re floating, and the world around you blurs as the pressure in your throat increases. You can still breathe—just barely - but the tiny gasps you manage through your nose aren’t enough, leaving you light-headed and playing a dangerous game.

And fuck, do you love it.

Heeseung’s grip tightens even more, cutting off your air completely, and your body thrums with a heady mix of fear and arousal. You’re drowning in the feeling of him everywhere - his cock driving into you, his hand choking the life out of you, and the overwhelming intensity of it all sends you spiralling into a blissful, euphoric state.

Your body goes slack beneath him, every muscle relaxed as you give in to the sensation, the lack of oxygen making everything else sharper, more intense. Your vision starts to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in, but you hold onto the pleasure, focusing on the way his cock drags against your walls, filling you so perfectly that it almost hurts.

Heeseung watches you closely, the way your lips part in a desperate attempt to take in air, the way your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the haze. He knows you’re close, knows that the combination of his rough treatment and the lack of air is pushing you to your limit.

“God, you’re such a greedy little slut,” he hisses, thrusting harder, and you arch up into him, every nerve ending buzzing with electric pleasure. “Can’t get enough, can you?”

You’re too far gone to respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you, each thrust rougher than the last. Your mind is hazy, clouded with lust, and all you can do is moan his name, your body moving instinctively to meet his every thrust.

Heeseung’s grip loosens from your throat, and you suck in a desperate gasp of air, your lungs burning with the sudden rush of oxygen. The pace of his thrusts is relentless, brutal, and all-consuming, driving you closer and closer to the precipice. Your world is reduced to the slick, punishing rhythm of his cock inside you, the tight coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight. You’re so close, teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion, when Heeseung’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” he taunts, his tone ragged and dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Do it. Cum for me, and let everyone know how much you love getting fucked like this.”

As if by magic, Heeseung’s words come to fruition and as the last word leaves his mouth, Jake is standing frozen in the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and something heat-provoking. He shouldn’t be here - shouldn’t be seeing this - but there’s no stopping himself, the way his eyes linger on you, on the way your body arches and moves under Heeseung’s control. His jaw is slack, lips slightly parted as he struggles to process the scene in front of him, but he can’t hide the lust in his gaze, the unmistakable arousal that flares as he hears the sounds of your moans echoing through the room.

Heeseung notices Jake almost instantly, his rhythm never faltering. Instead of shouting at him to get out or shielding you from Jake’s gaze, Heeseung smirks, his lips curling into something wicked and taunting. He rolls his hips into you once more, and you cry out, lost in the sensation and unaware of the unexpected visitor.

“Jake,” Heeseung calls out, his voice dripping with arrogance and something like amusement. He gestures with a nod of his head. “Come here. She’s a handful.”

Jake hesitates only for a moment, clearly dazed by the invitation and the surreal reality of the situation. But then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he steps inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He moves to the side of the bed, eyes flickering between you and Heeseung, still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening.

You see him then, and the shame washes over you like ice water, your impending orgasm slipping away in the heat of the moment as you flush red for a different reason. You instinctively try to cover yourself, hands moving up to shield your chest, but Heeseung’s grip is ironclad and he catches your jaw with a firm, possessive hold, forcing your gaze back to his.

“Don’t be embarrassed, angel,” Heeseung murmurs, leaning down so only you can hear, his hips slowing just enough to make your frustration mount. “You want him, don’t you? I see the way you look at him when he calls you pretty names.”

You can’t deny it - the truth in his words makes your core tighten, clenching around nothing as you imagine Jake’s touch, the thought of both of them overwhelming you. You’ve craved this in the darkest corners of your mind, and now, with Jake standing there watching you, your desire is laid bare.

“Yes…please, I want him,” you confess, voice trembling with need and a hint of shame.

Heeseung’s smirk widens, his expression turning mocking and cruel. “See? I knew a slut like you couldn’t be satisfied with just one cock.” His hand comes down in a light but sharp slap across your cheek, and you gasp, the sting mingling with pleasure that leaves you breathless.

Jake’s eyes darken at the action, flickering with concern at the derogatory name and the harshness of Heeseung’s treatment. But then he sees the way you smile up at them, your expression dazed and blissful, a spark of euphoria igniting in your gaze that tells him all he needs to know. You want this. You want to be used, claimed, and taken by both of them. Harshly and roughly.

Brushing his fingers along the mark on your cheek, Jake soothes the pain. His touch is warm and careful, but there’s a hunger behind it, a dark intensity in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken. He looks down at you, his expression a mixture of adoration but menacing intent.

“Our pretty girl,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and velvety, tinged with a heat that sends a shiver down your spine. “Who knew you were so filthy?”

Heeseung’s gaze snaps to Jake, his possessiveness flaring instantly. “My pretty girl,” he corrects sharply, his tone dripping with dominance and a clear line of ownership. “You’re just here to help out.” Heeseung’s words are a clear warning, a statement of his claim over you, even in this shared moment. He’s willing to let Jake in because it’s what you crave, but he won’t let anyone - especially not Jake - forget who you truly belong to.

Now that he has you, he’s never letting you go. Not Jake nor Sunghoon is taking you away from him.

Jake’s eyes flash with understanding and he nods slightly, accepting Heeseung’s terms even if he isn’t too happy about it. You’re beautiful in every way and he would want nothing more than to call you his, but he knows about Heeseung’s fascination with you.

Jake has seen all the times Heeseung walks out of the room when you’re getting too close to one another. At first, he thought it was to give you and Jake alone time, but with every slam of a door or huff, he soon realised that Heeseung was in fact jealous and couldn’t bear to see the sight of you curled up with someone who wasn’t him. It doesn’t help that you’ve never been close to Heeseung the way you are Jake, but the Aussie blames that on his friend’s lack of initiative. 

Clearly, he finally took the initiative by the looks of his cock ramming into you sharply.  So, Jake takes this opportunity, if it’s between one night of sharing you, or not at all, he’s taking the first option. 

Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightens just a fraction, and he leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine, angel. Always.” His eyes flicker to Jake, silently reminding him of the rules, before focusing back on you, his thrusts picking up speed again, driving into you with a new found vigour.

Your grip on the bedsheets tightens as you brace yourself, the soft fabric bunched between your fingers, knuckles turning white as you thrash beneath Heeseung. You’re barely aware of Jake watching every moment, every reaction—none of it matters anymore. The thick, pulsing drag of Heeseung’s cock has you keening, the heavy, relentless throb of his tip pressing against your walls with every hard thrust sending you spiraling into a delirium of pleasure.

The intensity of it all - the way Heeseung fills you so completely, the way his hips drive into you with a brutal, punishing rhythm - pushes you closer and closer to the edge. As your second orgasm builds, white-hot and all-consuming, it’s too much, almost unbearable. You instinctively try to pull away, shifting your hips back to gain even the slightest bit of relief. But Heeseung is quicker, his hands clamp down on your hips with a bruising grip, fingers digging into your skin.

"Don’t you fucking dare," he growls, his tone laced with anger and something darker, like the mere thought of you taking yourself away from him is the worst kind of betrayal. His gaze is wild, his brow furrowed with barely contained frustration, and it’s clear there’s a flip switch inside him - something more aggressive, more dominant than you’ve ever seen.

A sharp slap lands on your cheek, harder than before, the sting blooming hot across your skin and sending a shock straight to your core. “Don’t run away from what you want,” Heeseung hisses through clenched teeth, his thrusts not slowing for even a second. The sting mixes with the pleasure, and you feel yourself clenching around him, torn between pain and desire. You know you’ve pushed him over the edge, coaxed him into this rough, untamed version of himself, and you revel in it, loving the back and forth, the give and take of control.

“Jake, hold her arms,” Heeseung commands, his voice sharp and demanding, finally bringing Jake fully into the mix.

Jake’s hands are on you immediately, rough and firm as he yanks your arms above your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. He pulls you slightly, stretching you out and arching your back off the bed. The new angle sends you reeling, Heeseung’s cock hitting deeper, impossibly so, opening you up in a way that has you gasping for breath. You’re splayed out before them, exposed and vulnerable, and the combination of Jake’s tight grip and Heeseung’s punishing pace leaves you completely at their mercy.

Heeseung’s thumb finds your clit again, pressing down with just enough force to make you cry out. “You’re going to cum for me,” he growls, voice rough and dripping with command. His hips snap against yours, relentless and punishing, and his thumb moves with practised precision, rubbing tight, fast circles that have you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

Your vision blurs and all you can feel is the overwhelming pressure inside you, the knot in your stomach that has been pulled to it’s limits finally snaps with blinding intensity. You scream out, your entire body tensing as the orgasm crashes over you in violent, shuddering waves. It’s all too much, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Heeseung keeps driving into you, his thumb never relenting on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer intensity of it.

Heeseung doesn’t let up, his pace unyielding, fucking you through your climax with a savage determination. Your slick walls clamp down around him, spasming with every drag of his cock, and he lets out a strangled groan, his control slipping as he chases his release. You’re lost to the sensation, barely able to form coherent thoughts as your climax drags on, each wave cresting higher than the last until you’re left shaking and spent beneath him.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you cry out breathlessly, the desperate need in your voice undeniable. “Cum inside me, please, please, please.” You’re beyond humiliation now, too lost in the heat of it all to care about anything but the aching emptiness you feel whenever he’s not filling you.

But just as you plead, Heeseung pulls out, the sudden emptiness leaving you whimpering and clenching around nothing. The slick, wet sound of him slipping free echoes in the room, and he fists his cock, pumping it with fast, urgent strokes. His chest heaves, muscles taut and glistening with sweat as he works himself to the brink, his grip on you tightening with every jerk of his wrist. The sight of him above you - his face twisted in pleasure, his eyes wild and unfocused - is enough to make you ache with need all over again.

With a low, guttural groan, Heeseung spills over you, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and chest, marking you his territory. The heat of it hits your skin, and you watch as he works himself through the last pulses of his release, his jaw clenched and his body trembling. Heeseung’s chest rises and falls heavily, his breaths ragged as he lets go, the last of his cum splattering across your body. He leans back, admiring the mess he’s made, his cock still twitching in his hand as he slowly comes down from his high.

“You need to behave if you want my cum, angel,” Heeseung says, his voice low and mocking, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he looks down at you. His thumb brushes over the sticky mess on your skin, smearing it just to make a point. You shiver, the ache and desire mixing into something intoxicating, and you know this won’t be the last time you push him like this - because the way Heeseung loses control when he’s with you is something you’ll never get enough of.

Jake’s grip loosens slightly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your wrists, soothing the faint ache left behind by his earlier roughness. His touch is a stark contrast to the raw intensity of everything that’s just happened, but his eyes tell a different story - dark, hungry, and locked onto you with an unwavering focus. His gaze travels over your body, lingering on the mess Heeseung left on your stomach, your heaving chest, and the subtle, involuntary shake of your legs. You’re a beautiful wreck, panting softly, your entire body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and Jake can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight.

Heeseung notices the way Jake’s expression shifts, the unmistakable desire written all over his face. “You want to clean her up?” Heeseung’s voice drips with amusement, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches his friend’s restraint begin to crack. Heeseung’s fingers dip between your folds, collecting some of your slick before he brings his digits to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low, satisfied moan. “She’s fucking delicious.”

The taste of you floods Jake’s senses, and he loses himself in the moment, the sweet and salty blend of your release making his eyes flutter shut as he dives in deeper. He works his tongue expertly, slipping between your folds and circling your swollen clit before dipping down to explore your entrance, lapping up every drop of your arousal with an insatiable hunger. 

Jake doesn’t need any more encouragement. An avid pussy eater, he’s practically salivating at the opportunity, his lips curling into a smile as he bites down on his lower lip. He moves swiftly, coming around the bed to position himself between your trembling thighs. Heeseung steps back, giving him space, though his watchful eyes never leave you. Jake starts slow, his tongue darting out to deliver soft kitten licks against your sensitive folds.

His touch is featherlight at first, a teasing exploration that makes your body jolt with renewed need. You can’t help but arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, seeking more, silently begging for him to go faster.

You’re lost to the pleasure, moaning and grinding against his mouth, and Jake takes it all in stride, responding to every twitch and pull of your body as he picks up the pace, his lips and tongue moving in perfect rhythm. He feasts on you like you’re the only thing that matters, each flick and swirl sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated core.

Heeseung watches the scene unfold, his jaw clenched as he listens to your moans. Jake’s face is buried between your legs, and it’s clear from the way your back arches and your thighs tighten around his head that he’s damn good at what he’s doing. Heeseung can’t deny the jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. As much as he loves seeing you fall apart, he wants to be the one pulling those sounds from you, the one making you lose control.

Dragging his fingers along your torso, Heeseung collects some of the sticky mess he left on your skin, his cum still warm and glistening. “Open up, angel,” he orders, his voice laced with menace. You’re too far gone, drowning in the sensations Jake is giving you, but you obey without question, parting your lips wide and waiting with your tongue out like a perfect little submissive.

Heeseung pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting the salty tang of his cum coat your tongue. “Suck,” he commands, and you comply immediately, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers and drawing them in deeper. You swirl your tongue over his digits, tasting every drop, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in the bitter and intoxicating mix of him. 

Watching you intently, Heeseung is mesmerised by the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his fingers slick with your saliva and his cum. He pushes in further, teasing the back of your throat, feeling the soft gag that makes you whimper around him, desperate and wanting more.

Meanwhile, Jake is completely absorbed in his own task, his tongue working tirelessly as he devours you. His nose brushing against your mound, his lips and tongue moving in tandem as he dips deeper, swirling his tongue inside your stretched, pulsing hole. You can feel every stroke, every flick, and it’s driving you mad, the pleasure so intense it has you bucking your hips against his face, searching for every ounce of friction you can get.

Watching you writhe and moan, Heeseung feels something shift within him. There’s a flicker of fondness, something warm and possessive that cuts through his dominant facade, just for a miniscule of a second. He wants every piece of himself inside you, to claim you in ways that go beyond just the physical but he pushes it down quickly, promising himself he’ll come back to that once he’s done with you here. He needs to give you everything you want at this moment, and that isn’t tender touches and soft kisses.

Pushing your jaw down with his fingers against your tongue, Heeseung pries you open just a fraction wider. He leans in close, his eyes dark and intense, and without warning, he spits into your mouth, the warm liquid mixing with the mess on your tongue. “Swallow,” he says, his voice low and commanding. You do as you’re told, choking back a swallow even with his fingers still invading your mouth, feeling the weight of his spit mix with everything else, and the act itself only heightens the filthy pleasure coursing through you. You’ve never felt so wanted, so owned, and it’s everything you’ve ever craved.

Jake keeps his pace, and Heeseung watches with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy, knowing that while Jake might get to taste you, it’s Heeseung’s name that you’re whispering, it’s Heeseung who’s truly claimed you. But he can’t let Jake have all the fun down there.

Watching the way Jake devours you, his mouth slick and greedy against your pussy, his jealousy flares up even as he feels the rush of satisfaction at seeing you come undone. He wants to feel you trembling beneath his tongue, taste you again as you unravel. 

Withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, Heeseung moves to join Jake, his presence commanding as he circles to where the younger boy is still lost in you.

Jake’s head lifts just slightly when he feels Heeseung’s proximity, eyes narrowing in playful defensiveness. “No way, man, you ain’t taking over,” he mutters, his voice breathless, lips glistening with your slick. Heeseung simply rolls his eyes, unfazed by the challenge. 

Instead of pushing Jake away, Heeseung moves in closer, nudging Jake just enough to the side so that they both have room to work. “She said she wanted both of us,” Heeseung smirks, his tone smug and self-assured. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”

Jake, still high on the taste of you, nods in agreement, accepting Heeseung’s presence beside him. As long as he gets to keep his mouth on you, keep drawing those sweet, desperate sounds from your lips, he’s willing to share the space. Heeseung’s head dips down beside Jake’s, and the two of them work in perfect, sinful harmony, their mouths colliding as they lick and suck at your folds, both eager to claim their share of you. Their noses brush against each other, their breath mingling in heated puffs as they take turns devouring you, neither willing to give up the spot.

The sensation is overwhelming - two mouths on you at once, tongues weaving over one another, sometimes colliding and sometimes complementing, creating a dizzying, chaotic rhythm that has you seeing stars. Heeseung’s tongue is precise and teasing, swirling around your clit with practised ease, while Jake’s is more fervent, desperate and hungry as he licks broad, eager strokes from your entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves Heeseung is working on. The way their tongues dance over each other sends electric shocks up your spine; it’s hot and heavy, a messy, wet collision of pleasure that makes your entire body hum. 

This is truly what dreams are made of.

Every lick, every flick of their tongues against your swollen clit and dripping folds sends you spiralling closer to the edge. Jake’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he holds you open for both of them. Heeseung’s tongue dips lower, tasting you deeply, swirling inside your entrance before flicking back up to meet Jake’s. They take turns teasing you, their movements synchronised in a wicked, unspoken dance that leaves you gasping and writhing. It’s filthy and intimate, the feel of their mouths and their rough, needy breaths making your skin burn with want.

You can’t take it anymore. The coil inside you tightens with a force that’s almost painful, your third orgasm approaching with a relentless, ferocious speed. You try to hold on, try to prolong the moment, but it’s useless; the dual sensation of their mouths on you, the way their tongues move and taste you, has you spinning out of control. Your fingers claw at the sheets before finding purchase in their hair, grabbing onto both of them as your hips buck wildly.

“I’m cumming - fuck, I’m cumming!” you scream, your voice breaking, your entire body seizing as the orgasm rips through you with blinding intensity. The release is violent and all-consuming, your juices flooding their mouths as you squirt, your thighs shaking uncontrollably. 

Your release is powerful and sudden, a gush of warm, clear fluid spraying from your core in rhythmic pulses, splashing against their faces and dripping down your thighs. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt—wild and uncontrolled, your entire body shaking as you let go completely.

Both Heeseung and Jake are caught in the torrent, and they react instantly, their mouths wide open and eager to catch every drop. Jake groans, eyes squeezed shut as your release coats his lips, chin, and cheeks, his tongue flicking out desperately to catch the taste of you. He presses his face closer, unashamedly drinking you in, his movements more frantic as he swallows your essence, the wet sound of his slurping mixing with your breathless cries.

Heeseung, on the other hand, keeps his mouth firmly on your clit, feeling the rush of your squirt spray against him as he sucks and flicks over your swollen nub. The force of your orgasm sends jets of your wetness splashing against his lips, some of it dripping messily down his neck. His eyes stay fixed on you, half-lidded and dark with lust, groaning in satisfaction as he devours you, tongue flicking at your sensitive clit even as you tremble and buck from the intensity of it all.

The way they’re lapping at you, hungry and relentless, only prolongs your squirting, your body giving everything it has as you flood their mouths with your release. Your thighs quiver violently around their heads, your back arching off the bed as the last spurts drench their faces and mix with the slick heat of their tongues. You can feel it everywhere - your release dripping down, soaking into the sheets, and covering their skin. It’s filthy, raw, and utterly electrifying, leaving you gasping and trembling as the final shudders of your climax ebb away.

Laying there, you gaze up at the ceiling, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for everything that has transpired. This is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, a blissful euphoria that washes over you in waves. As you replay the events in your mind, you realize just how perfectly everything fell into place. If you or Heeseung had acted on this sooner, there’s no telling if Jake would be here with you now, completing this experience in a way you never expected. Timing really is everything.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely register Heeseung’s strong hands pulling at your arm, coaxing you into a sitting position. Your body feels limp, heavy with the aftershocks of your intense climax, but Heeseung is persistent, supporting your weight as he brings you upright. His warm breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “You’ve made such a mess, angel.” His voice is low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. He nods towards Jake, who stands by the bed, his face and chest drenched in your release. “Your slutty little act got Jake soaked. You better get him out of those clothes, huh?”

Jake’s eyes light up at Heeseung’s words, a mix of excitement and disbelief crossing his features. He had half-expected Heeseung to kick him out after what just happened, but the realization that this night is far from over fills him with eager anticipation. Heeseung's possessiveness is still palpable, but there’s a clear invitation in his words—a chance for Jake to fully join in.

Despite the fatigue settling into your limbs, a satisfied smile tugs at your lips. You nod in agreement, knowing that as spent as you are, the hunger for more is still burning inside you. Heeseung was right - you are a lot to handle, and you love it.

Jake’s cock stands proudly before you, a little shorter but thicker than Heeseung’s, veins bulging along its length, and the tip flushed a deep pink. It throbs with anticipation, precum already beading at the slit, and your mouth waters at the sight. You glance up at Jake, who’s watching you with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths.

Gathering the last of your energy, you crawl to the edge of the bed where Jake is standing. His t-shirt clings to his skin, wet and sticky from your release, and you peel it away from his body, revealing his toned chest beneath. The fabric resists slightly, almost glued to him, but you tug it off, discarding it carelessly to the side. Your fingers move to his jeans, deftly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper, feeling the weight of his arousal straining against the denim.

As you tug his jeans down, you can’t help but notice how his cock springs free, heavy and thick, even shorter than Heeseung’s, but undeniably tempting.

Heeseung moves behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders, his touch firm yet soothing. “Go on, angel,” he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Suck his cock like the slut you are. Make him nice and hard.” His tongue flicks out, tracing the curve of your ear before he bites your lobe, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His voice drops to a menacing whisper, a warning laced with dominance. “Remember, you’re mine. Don’t let him cum in your mouth, or I’ll make sure you never get a drop of mine. Got it?”

The thought of Heeseung’s cum buried deep inside you sends a fresh wave of longing through your body, the ache intensifying at the reminder that he denied you earlier. You whine softly, desperate to please, knowing that you’ll do anything to earn that reward.

You start slow, your hand wrapping around the base of Jake’s cock, feeling the thick, pulsing heat in your palm. Your tongue darts out, flicking over the tip to taste the salty precum gathered there, and Jake’s breath hitches, his hips twitching forward slightly. You take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head, sucking gently as you inch down his length. The taste of him fills your mouth, and you hum in satisfaction, the vibration making Jake groan above you.

Jake’s reaction only spurs you on. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head, creating a wet, slurping sound that fills the room. Your tongue swirls around his shaft, tracing the thick veins and teasing the sensitive underside, making him moan low and deep, his hands fisting in the sheets. The way he reacts to you—his breathless gasps, the way his hips jerk forward uncontrollably—fuels your desire, making you suck harder, faster, wanting to see him unravel.

Heeseung watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his own arousal reigniting as he takes in the sight of you working Jake’s cock. His hand moves to his own length, stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your head bobbing on Jake’s cock. The jealousy is there, a bitter edge that makes him want to rip Jake away from you, but he holds back, knowing that this is all part of his plan. You need to get Jake nice and ready for what Heeseung has planned next.

As you focus on Jake, your hips start to rise involuntarily, your body seeking more stimulation, almost begging for attention. Heeseung’s eyes catch the movement, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your ass sway in front of him. There’s no way you’re sucking Jake’s cock without offering yourself to Heeseung like that. He can’t resist the invitation.

Without warning, Heeseung’s hand comes down on your ass with a loud smack, the sharp sting making you cry out around Jake’s cock. The vibration travels through Jake’s length, and he groans, his head falling back as he feels it shoot straight to his balls.

“Fuck… Heeseung, do that again,” Jake breathes out, his voice strained with pleasure.

Heeseung obliges, his hand coming down harder on your ass this time, the force of the slap sending a jolt of pain-pleasure straight to your core. You cry out again, your throat tightening around Jake’s cock as you take him deeper, the sensation making him groan louder, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Such a fucking slut,” Heeseung mocks, his tone filled with dark amusement as he soothes the reddened skin of your ass with gentle strokes, then leans down to press a kiss against it. “Bet she even loves her ass being played with.”

“Bet she does,” Jake echoes, his voice rough, his face scrunched up in pleasure as your tongue runs along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

Heeseung wastes no time in spreading your legs wider, his fingers tracing the slick folds of your cheeks before he delves in, tongue first. The wet, hot muscle of his tongue circles your rim, teasing and tasting, flicking over the sensitive skin there. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt before, and your back arches instinctively, pushing back against his face as he works you open. Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue dipping inside before drawing back to lick, over and over, until your thighs are trembling with need.

He adds a finger, then two, stretching you as his tongue continues its assault. Heeseung’s fingers press deeper, curling slightly as he works them in and out with an agonizingly slow rhythm, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to fuck into you. The combination of his tongue and fingers is overwhelming; every nerve in your body seems to light up under his touch. He alternates between licking and biting, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver of pain-pleasure shooting through you, and you can’t help but clench around him, your muscles tightening as you struggle to keep focus.

Jake watches from above, his cock still in your mouth, and your tongue traces along the prominent vein on the underside, feeling it pulse with every beat of his racing heart. But Heeseung’s ministrations make it impossible to concentrate fully. The way his tongue darts in and out of your ass, combined with the relentless thrust of his fingers, is too much to bear. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure directly to your core, and the more Heeseung teases, the harder it becomes to maintain control.

It’s a battle to keep your focus on Jake’s cock. You want to please him, to keep sucking and teasing, but Heeseung’s touch makes your mind go blank. Just as you start to find a rhythm again, you feel Jake twitch in your mouth—a subtle warning that he’s close. Panic surges through you as you remember Heeseung’s strict instructions and the threat of losing the chance to have his cum if Jake finishes in your mouth. Desperate to obey, you pull off Jake with a wet pop, the cool air hitting your lips as you gasp for breath, the brief reprieve quickly turning into a moan as Heeseung drives his fingers deeper, faster.

Heeseung doesn’t let up; he kneels behind you and yanks you up, removing his fingers only to press you firmly against his chest. His grip is possessive, holding you close as he whispers in your ear, “Good girl, you listen so well to me.” The praise sends a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine, your body going limp against his hold as he licks the last of your taste from his lips, his satisfaction evident.

Seemingly caught in the moment, Jake’s eyes fix on you as he wraps his hand around his cock, fisting himself with quick, desperate strokes. His eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he chases the high he was so close to achieving in your mouth. You watch with rapt attention, seeing the way his muscles tense, his abs clenching as he works himself to completion. He positions himself in front of you, aiming at your stomach, and with a low, guttural groan, he spills over you, hot and thick.

His cum splatters across your skin, mixing with the remnants of Heeseung’s earlier release, creating a mess that drips down your belly and pools in your navel. You watch the way Jake’s cock twitches in his hand, each pulse sending another thick rope of cum across your skin, the sight both filthy and utterly arousing. The combined scent of their release fills your senses, and you can’t help but let out a soft, needy whimper, your body aching for more.

Heeseung’s hold tightens around you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watches Jake finish. “Look at you,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice rough with pride and arousal. “Covered in our cum like the perfect little slut you are.” He tilts your head back, forcing you to look up at him, his dark eyes burning with unspoken promises. “And don’t worry, angel. You’ll get what you want soon enough.” His cock twitches against your back, a silent promise of what’s still to come.

With a smirk, Heeseung’s eyes flick down to his friend’s softening cock. “I’ll give you a minute, yeah?” he says, the implication clear in his tone. Although Jake’s frustration is palpable - knowing that Heeseung will be buried inside you again before he even gets a chance to feel your tightness squeezing his cock - he nods in understanding.

He knows he needs a moment - his dick, still slick with your spit and his own cum, needs a little time to recover before he's ready to go again. The veins running along his shaft are still faintly pulsing, and his tip, now a deeper, more muted pink, glistens under the dim light of the room. He gently strokes himself, trying to keep the lingering arousal alive, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him.

Meanwhile, Heeseung’s lips trail down your neck, nipping at your skin in a playful, almost affectionate way. Each bite is a reminder of his claim on you, and the small smiles he gives are a stark contrast to the filthy things you’ve done together tonight. His warm breath fans against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver in anticipation, knowing exactly what’s coming next.

With a sultry smile, you gather some of the cum pooling on your tummy, dragging your fingers through the sticky mess before bringing them to your lips. You suck them clean, maintaining eye contact with Heeseung the entire time, a deliberate and provocative display. 

A stray dribble escapes the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin, but Heeseung’s quick to notice. Without hesitation, he leans in, his mouth latching onto your skin as he sucks the dribble off your face, his tongue sweeping over your jawline in a way that’s both possessive and intimate. The unexpected act catches you off guard, and you gasp softly, the sound quickly morphing into a needy whimper.

Something is mesmerising about Heeseung - how he’s unafraid to take what he wants, how he ensures you’re getting the most pleasure out of every moment. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever been with, and you find yourself falling deeper into the way he handles you with a perfect balance of roughness and care. Jake, too, has been nothing short of selfless, his need to please you evident in every touch and desperate lick. The puppy-eyed boy is eager to please you, which is a rarity to find in men these days, god knows you’ve tried looking for one.

Who knew what you needed was under this roof?

Heeseung’s eyes remain half-lidded, dark with desire, as he pulls back just enough to speak. “Turn around for me, angel,” he instructs, his voice dripping with lust. He punctuates his command with a sharp slap to your ass, and the sting only amplifies the fire burning between your legs. His enthusiasm is contagious, and despite your exhaustion, a renewed energy surges through you. You comply eagerly, shuffling until you’re facing him, both of you on your knees on the mattress.

Up close, Heeseung’s beauty is breathtaking. His dark eyes are alight with mischief and hunger, but there’s also a softness there, a gentleness that contradicts the filthy words he whispers in your ear. You marvel at how stunning he looks with his tousled hair, swollen lips, and a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He’s a perfect mix of tenderness and dominance, and every second in his presence feels electric.

“I’m going to fuck your cunt. You feeling okay?” Heeseung asks, his voice softening as he checks in on you, his fingers drifting down to your slick heat. He carefully slides them between your folds, testing your sensitivity, searching for any signs of discomfort.

You moan at the touch and nod, meeting his gaze with a cheeky grin. “I’m okay. Nowhere near ruined,” you tease, giving him an innocent look, though both of you know there’s nothing innocent about what’s happening.

Heeseung’s expression shifts, his caring concern replaced with amusement and libido. “Yeah? Suppose I better make good on my promise then,” he growls before crashing his lips back onto yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with unrestrained fervour. He devours you, kissing you like he can’t get enough like he’s starved for every part of you - and he is. His fingers continue to play with your folds, rubbing slow circles against your clit, driving you further into madness as your hips jerk instinctively against his hand.

Jake’s watching intently, his cock twitching back to life as he witnesses the raw passion between you and Heeseung. The sight of you so lost in Heeseung’s touch, the way your body melts into his, ignites something fierce within Jake. He strokes his length slowly, feeling the arousal steadily build again, his tip swelling with a deep rose tint as blood rushes back, hardening him as he imagines the moment he’ll finally be inside you.

Heeseung’s hands find your ass, gripping firmly as he lifts you with ease, positioning you over his lap. Your legs spread wide, and he uses his strength to guide you down, letting your slick folds drag along his cock, the bell of his tip pressing teasingly at your entrance. The friction has you grinding against him, desperate for more, and Heeseung groans at the needy way you move, his head tipping back in pure bliss.

“God, I fucking love how needy you are,” he breathes, leaning forward to hover his lips over yours, barely brushing them as he speaks. “I’m never letting you go after this.”

You can’t suppress the smile that spreads across your face, the words resonating deeply. “Good. I don’t want you to,” you murmur back, your voice filled with sincerity. Heeseung’s gaze softens momentarily before his need takes over, and he pulls you down, his cock finally breaching your entrance as you sink onto him, the stretch and fullness making your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

Heeseung’s strong hands grip your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock with practised ease. Each bounce sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, the thick length of him stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your soft, needy moans and Heeseung’s ragged breaths. He watches you through hooded eyes, his lips parted as he groans with every thrust, the sight of you taking him so eagerly making his head spin.

“Fuck, you feel even better this time,” Heeseung rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. He can’t believe how tight you still are, how your body moulds perfectly around him, clenching with every movement. His hips snap up to meet your descent, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he drives himself deeper inside you. He swears for a second he can see his cock bulging out your stomach, making him groan out and quicken his pace.

Biting his lip so hard it nearly draws blood, Jake moves closer, his restraint crumbling as he watches you go up and down on Heeseung’s cock. The sight is almost too much for him to bear; he needs to feel you, to be inside you. Climbing onto the bed, he positions himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Heeseung’s, silently asking for permission to join.

Heeseung doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he cups your face, drawing your attention back to him rather than the pleasure. “You think you can take both of us, angel?” he asks, his voice thick with pride and appentence.

The mere thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. One cock was already bliss, but the idea of having both of them inside you at once? It’s a dream you never thought would come true. You nod enthusiastically, your smile bright and eager. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Jake mirrors your expression, his eyes lighting up and his cock twitching in joy. Unable to resist, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss. It’s different from Heeseung’s - softer, more deliberate, his tongue stroking yours slowly, savouring the moment. The contrast between Jake’s gentle kiss and the way Heeseung pounds into you is dizzying, making you feel completely overwhelmed in the best way possible.

With his hands groping your ass and kneading your cheeks, Jake’s touch is gentle as he positions himself at your entrance. He feels the tight ring of muscle give way slightly under his touch, his eyes flickering with both excitement and a hint of concern. Slowly, he presses forward, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance. The stretch is intense, and you can’t help but claw at Jake’s shoulder, your nails digging in as you adjust to the pressure.

Heeseung pauses his movements, allowing you to catch your breath as Jake inches inside. Your body tenses, the sensation of Jake’s girth pushing into your ass making you gasp. Even though Heeseung had prepped you earlier, Jake’s cock is thick, and the tightness borders on overwhelming.

Jake’s brow furrows, his voice laced with guilt as he peppers kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your forehead - anywhere he can reach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs between kisses, his touch tender and soothing. “I’ll go really slow until you’re ready, yeah?”

The gentleness in his voice makes your heart flutter, and despite the intensity of the stretch, you can’t help but feel safe between them. “It’s okay,” you whisper, breathless but reassuring. “I want this. You can move.”

Cautiously, Jake slides in deeper inch by inch, his own moans of ecstasy barely contained as your tight heat swallows him. The slow stretch is excruciatingly good, the pressure of being filled from both ends sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. Heeseung keeps his hands on your waist, holding you steady as Jake finally bottoms out, the three of you perfectly locked together in a moment that feels almost unreal.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake breathes, his head tipping back as he revels in the tight squeeze around him. “You feel so fucking good.”

Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk as he watches you both, his grip tightening possessively. “You like that, angel? You like being filled up by us?” His voice is low and rough, and you can only nod, your words lost to the pleasure.

As your body begins to adjust to the intense stretch, the rhythm between Heeseung and Jake picks up, their movements becoming more coordinated, more deliberate. Heeseung’s hands roam your body, sliding up your waist to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples as he thrusts up into you. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core, each touch amplifying the overwhelming fullness you feel. Jake’s hands grip your hips from behind, guiding you onto his cock with careful but desperate need, his fingers occasionally sliding to your lower back, tracing soft patterns as if trying to soothe the burn of being stretched so wide.

Every thrust is perfectly timed, alternating in a way that keeps you impossibly full, never a moment where you aren’t completely claimed by both of them. The feeling is indescribable - hot, tight, and exquisitely intense, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. The press of Jake’s chest against your back, the rough slide of Heeseung’s cock inside your dripping heat, and the way Jake’s fingers are now expertly working your clit all converge into one dizzying blend of pleasure. Your moans turn into high-pitched cries, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you’re completely lost to the overwhelming ecstasy of having them both.

Jake’s touch on your clit is unrelenting, his fingers drawing slow, firm circles that match the rhythm of their movements. Your body responds instantly, clenching tight around both of them as your orgasm builds, a pressure so fierce it almost scares you. Your breaths turn ragged, your body trembling as you cling to Jake’s shoulders for support, feeling like you might fall apart at any moment. The tension finally snaps, and you’re thrown headfirst into your release, your walls convulsing wildly around them. The sensation is blinding; your vision goes white, and your entire body locks up as the orgasm tears through you. Your head falls back onto Jake’s shoulder, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as pleasure floods every inch of your being.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum for us,” Heeseung groans, his voice thick and strained. His own restraint is slipping, the feeling of you spasming around him pushing him dangerously close to his own release. Jake watches you fall apart, his eyes glazed with lust as he feels your slick walls clench around his cock, milking him for everything he has.

Jake’s breathing is ragged, his release lingering in the air, but his eyes stay fixed on the way your body is stretched and filled between them, a look of longing and unfulfilled need still shadowing his expression. Heeseung’s thrusts are slowing, but Jake’s gaze doesn’t waver; he’s captivated, hungry for more. As he pulls out slowly, his cock slick and glistening from being inside you, he swallows thickly, his desire still burning hot despite his recent release.

“Fuck… Heeseung,” Jake starts, his voice hoarse and filled with a mix of uncertainty and desperate want. He hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Heeseung. “Can I—can I cum inside her ass?”

Heeseung’s head snaps up, his brows knitting together in a flash of possessiveness. It’s an instinct, that primal urge to keep you all to himself, to not share the deepest parts of you. His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, and he bites his lip, conflicted. The question hangs heavy between the three of you, and you can feel the tension in the air, the silent battle playing out in Heeseung’s mind as he grapples with his possessiveness.

But before he can even form a response, you nod eagerly, your body already aching for more, for that forbidden thrill of being filled in every hole. Your eyes meet Heeseung’s, silently pleading, and he feels his resolve waver. Despite his reluctance, the look of anticipation and need on your face is impossible to ignore.

Heeseung’s gaze softens, his possessiveness yielding under the weight of your desire. He knows how much you crave this, and though the thought of Jake claiming you in such an intimate way twists something inside him, Heeseung’s need to see you satisfied trumps his jealousy. He lets out a sigh, brushing his thumb over your cheek in a tender, reassuring gesture.

“Only because she wants it,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice low and edged with reluctant surrender. He looks at Jake, then back to you, his eyes filled with a fierce, protective heat. 

Jake nods, his eyes lighting up with gratitude and excitement. The sight of you writhing between them, your body trembling and utterly spent - along with verbal permission - pushes Jake over the edge. His grip on your hips tightens, and with a few more desperate thrusts, he lets out a strangled moan, his cock pulsing inside you. He buries himself deep, the heat of his release flooding you as he spills, his cum coating your walls as he grinds against you, hips twitching with each spurt. Jake’s head drops forward, his breath hot against your shoulder as he groans through his release, the feeling of being buried in your tight heat making him shudder in bliss.

“Fuck, so tight,” Jake pants, his voice barely a whisper as he comes down from his high, his body sagging slightly but still moving in time with Heeseung’s thrusts, making sure you stay full.

Heeseung watches, utterly transfixed by the sight of Jake’s cum mixing with your slick as he continues to thrust into you. The pressure of you squeezing him so perfectly and the primal satisfaction of knowing he’s sharing this moment with Jake pushes him right to his breaking point. With a guttural moan, Heeseung snaps his hips up, filling you completely one last time before he finally lets go. His grip on your waist is bruising, his nails digging into your skin as his release surges forward, hot and thick as he empties inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock twitching with every pulse as he coats your insides with his cum.

Heeseung’s thrusts slow but remain deep, his forehead pressed against yours as he breathes heavily, still caught in the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Fuck, angel, you were so perfect,” he mutters, his voice laced with awe as he watches the way your body shudders between them, completely sated and drenched in the evidence of their pleasure. Jake’s hand still lingers on your hip, squeezing gently as if to say that this moment was just the beginning, a silent promise of more to come.

With both of them still inside, you feel utterly claimed, utterly theirs, and you know that nothing else will ever compare.

As the intensity of the moment finally settles, the room falls into a comfortable, exhausted silence, only broken by the sound of labored breathing. Heeseung slowly pulls out of you, careful not to overwhelm you further, his own body still tingling from the aftershocks of his release. He can’t help but watch the way his cum mingles with Jake’s, leaking out of you in thick rivulets. The sight is so raw, so intimate, that it sends a possessive thrill through him, but he knows that now is the time for gentleness.

Heeseung’s touch shifts from passionate to tender, his hands soft and careful as he helps you lay back on the bed. You’re completely spent, your body limp and glowing with satisfaction, and Heeseung takes a moment to appreciate just how beautiful you look—flushed, a little messy, and thoroughly pleasured. He kisses your forehead softly, then moves to check over your body, his gaze sharp and attentive. There’s a hint of concern in his eyes as he inspects every inch of you, ensuring there are no signs of discomfort or strain.

“You okay, angel?” he asks, voice gentle as he runs his fingers soothingly through your hair. You nod weakly, eyes half-lidded, still lost in the blissful haze of what just transpired.

Jake, catching his breath, slips off the bed with a satisfied smile, heading to the kitchen. He quickly grabs a bottle of water and some wet wipes, his mind already shifting to aftercare. He knows how important this part is - to make sure you feel safe and loved, especially after such an intense experience. When he returns, Heeseung is still doting on you, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if grounding you.

You let out a tired whine, snuggling deeper into the pillows. “Too tired,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung frowns slightly but lets it go, deciding to prioritise your comfort in this moment, knowing he’ll keep a close eye on you.

Heeseung’s protective nature kicks in, and he leans close, his voice soft but firm. “You should try to pee, angel,” he urges, knowing how your body needs it.

But you shake your head, too tired to move, too comfortable in the warm cocoon of their presence to care about anything else. “I know, baby, but it’s important,” he insists, though his tone is gentle, laced with concern.

Jake kneels beside you, his smile tender as he opens the wet wipes and begins to clean you up, his touch gentle and unhurried. He wipes away the sticky mess on your stomach, thighs, and between your legs, his movements slow. The cool touch of the wipes is soothing against your heated skin, and Jake’s soft murmurs of reassurance make you feel even more cared for.

“You did so well,” Jake praises softly, his fingers grazing your skin as he cleans you up, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. “So perfect for us.” His eyes are full of warmth as he meets yours, and the soft, fond expression on his face makes your heart flutter.

Once you’re cleaned up, Jake hands you the water bottle, urging you to take a few sips to hydrate. You comply, though your body is still heavy with exhaustion. The cool water soothes your dry throat, and you give Jake a sleepy smile of gratitude.

“Thanks,” you whisper, your voice hoarse but content. Jake just smiles back, brushing a stray hair away from your face before discarding the used wipes and settling back on the bed.

“C’mere,” you murmur, reaching out for both of them. The need for closeness, for reassurance, is palpable in your voice, and neither Jake nor Heeseung hesitates. They each slide in beside you, one on each side, surrounding you with their warmth. Heeseung pulls you closer against his chest, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, while Jake presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing over your cheek.

You sigh in contentment, the weight of their bodies grounding you, making you feel utterly safe and cherished. Heeseung’s thumb strokes your side in soothing circles, and you nuzzle closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent. Jake’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he snuggles closer, and you feel utterly enveloped by their presence.

The three of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sex, but there’s a newfound calmness, a quiet intimacy that settles over you like a warm blanket.

As you lay nestled between Heeseung and Jake, the warmth of their bodies soothing every ache and the steady rhythm of their breathing lulling you into a sense of tranquility, your eyelids grow heavy. The soft, rhythmic strokes of Heeseung’s thumb along your side and the gentle squeeze of Jake’s hand in yours keep you tethered to the present, yet slowly, inevitably, the world begins to fade.

The sounds around you start to blur - Heeseung’s quiet, steady breaths, the faint rustle of sheets, and the soft hum of the city beyond the window. Everything seems to meld into a comforting haze, and you feel yourself slipping, drifting further into the embrace of sleep. The last thing you register is Heeseung’s fingers brushing through your hair and Jake’s lips pressing a final, tender kiss to your cheek. You surrender to the drowsiness, your body relaxing completely as you sink into a deep, contented slumber, cocooned in the safety of their presence.

With you now resting peacefully between them, Heeseung and Jake exchange a silent glance over your sleeping form. It’s a look filled with a mix of satisfaction, confusion, and a touch of uncertainty. The night had been everything they had imagined and more, but the rawness of their emotions lingers heavily between them. Neither of them had expected to feel this way - to feel so deeply connected to you through this shared experience.

Heeseung’s eyes flicker with an unspoken question, his possessiveness simmering just beneath the surface. He’s never been good at sharing what’s his, and seeing Jake so intimate with you stirs something complicated inside him. He knows he needs to sort through these feelings, but he also knows that tonight isn’t the time for it. Right now, you’re all that matters, your comfort and peace taking precedence over his own inner turmoil.

Jake meets his gaze, and for a moment, his usual easygoing demeanour falters. There’s a flicker of doubt, a quiet acknowledgement of the shift in their dynamic. The truth is, having you like this, feeling you fall apart in their hands, has only deepened his desire. But more than that, it’s solidified something within him—a need to protect and keep you close. It’s a need that, strangely enough, mirrors Heeseung’s own, despite their differences.

Neither of them speaks; there’s no need for words right now. They’ll figure it out in the morning, they tell themselves. What this means for all of them, how they’ll navigate this new and tangled web of emotions and desire—it’s a problem for another day. The only certainty they share in this moment is that you’ve become something irreplaceable, something neither of them is willing to let go of.

But there’s one unspoken agreement that hangs heavily between them: 

Sunghoon can never find out. 

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm @star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to you with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi Bunny! Could I request a croissant with a side of mocha coffee & champagne + Fernando please? 🙏🏻

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? look at the menu for more information! i love getting requests in! please if you can reblog and comment! this bunny feeds off praise! as for this one, thank you lovely anon! i hope you love this! enjoy!

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by fernando alonso (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, daddy issues, age gap (20s/40s), daddy kink, sugar daddy au, breeding kink, pregnancy, bimbo!reader, missionary, fingering

you'd go to visit 'friends' in spain during the off season of formula one, and you'd always come home with some kind of bruise. mostly on your face or knees, your father knew how clumsy you were, and didn't really bother him too much. his poor, simply daughter got another bump and bruise.

you were just happy that fernando's cum didn't stain the front of your shorts.

madrid was beautiful even in january. it wasn't particularly warm, but it wasn't freezing like your father's home across the atlantic. but that just gave you more of a chance to be closer to your lover, fernando alonso.

the much older formula one driver that was working with your father's marketing firm on a new collaboration. it meant you saw a fair bit of fernando when you were 'helping' your father around the office. (your father thought that since you couldn't get into post-secondary that some working experience would bridge the gap!). but, you were doing less organization of paper work and more having the formula one driver fuck you over top of the photocopier. (he even got a photocopy of your pretty tiddies out of it).

the world was such a big place, and you were just a simple girl.

but, you never did have to worry. not with fernando by your side, letting the older man keep you like a perfect little pet. and that meant spending your time in spain, letting the driver just make you feel like the most perfect princess in the world.

the house that fernando lived in was beautiful and gave you plenty of room to explore. you'd be by the pool or snuggled up in front of the large flat screen television.

you were a pretty live in toy that frenando enjoyed nothing more than to fuck the living daylights out of him. currently you were in the bedroom on your back with your sugar daddy crowding your space, with his fingers buried inside of you.

he said softly, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." he knew it riled you up when he mentioned your asshole of a father.

you squirmed and said, "nando! c'mon! no fair?" your back arched a little when he rubbed against the perfect spot. your pretty pains dug into the covers as he continued to finger you.

he shook his head, "no, no. you are just too cute under my thumb. your father gave you your job to keep you busy, but i think that you work harder on your knees then in the office."

you whined, "i'm a good employee."

he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, leaving a wet mark on your skin, "sure, beautiful. you're the employee of the month." he chuckled as he slipped a third finger in, which made your core throb.

you squirmed a little more and reached for your lover. he went in for a searing kiss which made you moan loudly. you felt your heart batter in your chest as he continued to sink his digits into your pussy. the wet sounds made him hot all over.

"you're so pretty like this." he said as his cock twitched in his boxers as he continued to pleasure you. he licked his lips, "such a dumb little thing, you think you get by because you look so cute. but, just know, you're all mine."

you squeaked and nodded, "yes, daddy."

he took his fingers out of you then slapped your pussy which made you almost cum right there. he got himself out of his underwear soon after and got between your legs. his cock was impressive in size and made your skin burn as you watched him get comfortable between your plush thighs.

you looked up at him and said, "please, daddy. i need you." then kept your eyes on him as he shifted your hips up to meet his cock. he sank into your pretty pussy with relative ease, the entire process made the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

"my pretty princess." he purred, "so beautiful. so good under me, you are so painfully sweet. and stupid." he said as he placed both hands on either side of your body and started to move up against you. he felt the thump of pleasure in his head with every hard thrust.

"i'm not dumb, daddy."

he chuckled and grabbed you by the face to look at him, as he moved against you. he grinned at you, "not when i'm done with you, princess."

fernando was a rough lover, he was the kind of daddy dom who kept you on a tight leash. he had to, you had a habit of getting into trouble. maybe next time he'd get you a collar to yank on when he fucked you.

when he bred you.

that was what this all boiled down to. fernando had to make sure that his special little princess didn't stray too far. it was hard to do that when a plump little baby in your belly. maybe it'll smarten you up to be a mother. your father would be happy that his dumb little daughter married rich.

you whined as he continued to move against you.

fernando felt the sweat drip down his back as he continued to rut into you. the painfully sweet thing that he managed to trap, to keep under his thumb while he reamed your sweet cunt. he could feel his heartbeat in the back of his throat as he moved against you.

"you're so perfect.' he said.

"thank you daddy." you whimpered as you felt hot all over.

he loved it, he loved the control he had over you. the sweet little girl that he found, the place to leave his seed. let it spit into the back of your womb. it all belonged to him.

you whimpered, "please daddy." most sugar daddy's would pay to keep a baby quiet, but not fernando. he'd pay for you to raise his little baby properly. be a good mother and wife. it was a roundabout way of making sure you'd marry him.

he was a possessive old bastard like that, make sure he nabbed himself a pretty young thing he can empty his balls in and watch care for his brats. it was quite a charmed idea.

and you had no idea what was going on. only that it felt good when fernando fucked your cunt with heavy thrusts that made your mind swim.

"so precious.' he said, "and all mine."

you felt the moan get stuck in your throat as you arched your back. you clung to the soft covers of your shared bed and clenched around his dick.

"fuck, pretty girl. my princess." he groaned as he continued his heavy thrusts. your cunt felt like a dream around his cock as he buried it to this hilt, made sure that every inch was snug inside of you. he continued to move you up and down the bed as he fucked you.

with one last heavy thrust, he finished inside of you. you gasped heavily as you felt his cock throb inside of you. he gave it a few more thrusts of his hips before he stopped and relaxed. his shoulders were curved over top of you and panted heavily.

you looked up at him, still feeling a little blissed out. you said softly, "thank you, daddy."

he looked down at you and took in the sight of you. he smiled briefly at you and said, "that's a good girl. remember to take all of it."

-

your new years was in spain then became spring in spain, then summer in spain. now you were expecting a baby girl in october and you had a nice ring on your finger.

you spent most of your time around the house, mostly tending to things around it. you rubbed your lower back and soon felt the arms of your husband around your middle.

fernando came closer to kiss you on the cheek, he cupped your swollen middle and said, "how is my beautiful princess?" he melted against you, love the feeling of his child in your womb. he sighed contently as he said, "the most perfect woman." <3

[justlemmeadoreyou]

1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

words: 4.3k

warnings: nothing major in this one

Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.

Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience. 

Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.

Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.

You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.

Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.

There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs. 

But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.

He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.

With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.

Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.

So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.

Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.

Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...

You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.

It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.

You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.

Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.

As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.

From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.

Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.

In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.

You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.

Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.

Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.

Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.

After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.

"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"

You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!" 

You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."

Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.

Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.

Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...

You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.

"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."

"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.  

Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.

Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.

Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.  

By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.

The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.

"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."

You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.

As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.

Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."

He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.

"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.

Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.  

You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.

After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.

You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.

His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.

You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.

"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."

You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.

"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.

But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.

"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.

You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.

Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow. 

Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.

Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.

Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."

You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."

Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.

As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.

***

Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service. 

The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.

"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.  

You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.

As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.

"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."

Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.

The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.

"Whoa there!"  

You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.

"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.

"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."

Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?" 

When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."

"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."

His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.

"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."

You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.

Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."

With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.

You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.

And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.

As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.

This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage. 

With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed. 

Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.

Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭

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[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Eight - Reveal

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Your body is starting to change, and your moods are changing even quicker! You and Jessie experience a first and you learn the sex of your baby.

Warnings: Some language. Some nudity (?), intimate touching.

A/N: I've had a few requests to have poor Jessie coping with Reader's mood swings. Enjoy! lol. Rest of the series is here.

"Finally," you said as Jessie came through the door with a package under her arm.

"What is it anyway?" She asked as she handed the box over to you and you placed it on the table to open it. She watched as you pulled out an item and held it up against yourself, turning to her.

"What do you think?" You asked with a knowing smile that shifted into a smirk. Jessie's eyes drifted to the bra you were showcasing and a goofy grin crossed her face.

"Well I think you'll need to actually try it on for me," she said flirtatiously as she came up to you, placing her hands on your growing stomach as she leaned in for a kiss.

She smiled brightly just at the touch. You were very close to 20 weeks along and your belly had swelled notably over the past few weeks. Unless if you were wearing a large sweater or jacket, it was no longer a secret that you were expecting and Jessie adored it.

Anytime you were out together she was on top of the world as she stood next to you, arm around your waist and proud as can be. She couldn't help but beam when someone referred to either of you as moms-to-be.

"I figured you'd say something like that," you responded as you pulled back and gave her a fleeting peck on the cheek as you retreated to the bedroom. Jessie trailed after you eagerly.

"I bought two new bras for now," you explained. "I'll see how comfortable they are and if I like them I'll buy more."

"Okay," she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and practically swung her feet as you drew your top over your head. You tossed it at her playfully as she caught it with a waggle of her eyebrows.

She grinned as you stood before her and unclasped your bra, your breasts falling freely as you removed it. She bit back a chuckle at the sigh of relief you released.

"God," you breathed in complaint, cupping one of your breasts with your hand. "I should've got these two weeks ago. Can't believe how much my boobs have grown."

"I know," Jessie said in an entirely different tone, her gaze transfixed on your breasts.

She held back a bashful smirk as you shot her a look while you started to put on one of the new bras. When clasped, you studied yourself momentarily. You huffed.

"God. I'm going to need a new size in another few weeks at this rate," you complained further. Jessie stood up and approached, hands out as she gently grasped your breasts, feeling them mindfully while in appreciation.

Jessie was solely focused on your breasts until you snapped your fingers in front of her face with a laugh.

"Focus," you joked. "What do you think?"

"Glorious," Jessie said simply. You rolled your eyes affectionately as you tried on the other bra.

"Is there one you like better?" You asked. She had yet to draw her eyes away from your cleavage.

"I like them both," she said with a wide smile.

"You don't say," you teased with another eye roll. "By the way, these past few weeks have been the absolute most excited you've ever been to help me shop for clothes." Jessie felt her face heat up with a light blush, but she shrugged it off.

"What can I say? You look absolutely gorgeous." And she meant it.

"Ugh," you dismissed as you turned and studied yourself in the mirror with a borderline rueful smirk. "I thought the weight I put on in first year uni was tough." You sighed as you honed in on the faintest marks on your breasts and on your abdomen. "And I'm getting stretch marks," you whined.

"Babe," Jessie said as she stepped in front of you and placed her hands lovingly on your stomach. "That is totally normal. You're beautiful." She saw that you weren't entirely convinced and she went on. "You're beautiful," she repeated, "but I know it bothers you. So, let me put cream on for you."

"I can do it myself," you pouted as you turned away and grabbed the lotion off of the dresser. You pumped some into your hands and walked away from her as you applied it.

"Babe, don't be stubborn. Let me help," she insisted as she followed after you with a frown.

"I'm fine," you told her, keeping your back to her.

Jessie held back a sigh. She knew to expect mood swings, but you'd always been quite chill and outside of the few that happened in your first trimester, predominantly when you were dealing with morning sickness, you'd been pretty much yourself through the pregnancy. However, it couldn't always be that way.

"Baby. I would like to help you," she said patiently. You made a minor noise of acknowledgement, but grabbed your shirt off the bed and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you without so much as a look her way.

She stood there alone in the bedroom and finally let out her sigh of frustration as she stared at the closed door unsure of what to do. After several moments of indecision she eventually chose to give you your space and sulked out to the kitchen. She stood there looking around and contemplating her options before opening the fridge and started to prepare a snack for you. Maybe some food would be a sufficient peace offering. Not that she was sure what she was trying to make up for.

She was still prepping the small charcuterie board of sorts when she heard you emerge from the bedroom. She looked over to you as you walked out. You were fully dressed again, but Jessie was met with the cold shoulder again. A quiet huff escaped her as she refocused on cutting up some veggies.

A few moments passed and she heard you settling in on the couch. She discretely peered over her shoulder to see you curled up on your phone. From your body language though, she could tell you were still upset.

She looked over the board before she gave a self-affirming nod and picked it up, carrying it over to you. She set it down on the table in front of you and stood there wordlessly for a few seconds watching you purposefully ignore it and her.

"I'm not hungry," you eventually said, tone flat and your eyes didn't rise from your phone.

"Well. I'll leave it there for you for when you are," Jessie said, trying to stamp out the bubbling disappointment and frustration. She watched you intently, noting the way you exhaled through your nose and settled further in, your shoulders rising up as you pulled your limbs in tighter and still avoiding eye contact.

She exhaled in the same way and turned on her heel and retreated to the bedroom, grabbing her laptop on the way. She sat cross-legged on the bed and perused her emails, read the news; anything really to busy herself.

Her eyes lifted from the screen as she heard the faint sound of you biting into a carrot or celery. She smiled faintly and picked up her phone to type out a message to you.

"I need you to know that you are truly more and more beautiful to me every day. Every part of you, too. I know it's hard for you and you may feel insecure about some things, but you are the most gorgeous woman to me. Every change in your curves, every stretch mark is beautiful to me and knowing that it's because our baby is growing each day and you're carrying them so incredibly makes it mean that much more to me."

She sent it and looked expectantly at the open doorway. The sounds of you eating stilled and she checked her phone. She saw you'd read the message and she awaited your response. The moments passed; more moments passed - nothing.

"Getting left on read by my own fiancée," Jessie muttered under her breath with a sigh as she propped her chin into her palm while she mindlessly scrolled on her laptop.

Several minutes later, her phone lit up and buzzed. She readily picked it up.

"Yet you don't want to be with me."

Jessie narrowed her eyes at the message in confusion. She shook her head and sat up straight.

"What? What are you talking about?" She said loud enough for you to hear.

Silence. She sighed, harsher this time, her patience wearing thin. She was about to speak up again when she saw the bubbles appear in your chat. She breathed quietly, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Well what are you even doing? You obviously don't want to spend time with me. And you're on a plane first thing tomorrow morning. So."

A frustrated huff escaped Jessie as she pushed herself up off the bed and strode towards the door. She slowed and took a steadying breath to get a hold of herself as she reached the doorway.

She rounded it and was about to speak when she laid eyes on you to see you sitting there, your eyes uncharacteristically teary. The irritation she'd been feeling a moment before was fully replaced by confusion and concern.

"Babe, what's going on?" She asked as she approached. "Of course I want to spend time with you. I didn't think you wanted to spend time with me. You walked away and closed the door on me. I thought you wanted space." You sniffled as she took up a spot next to you on the couch, facing you and resting a hand on your leg. You recoiled subtly and Jessie couldn't help but frown and huff. "See?" She said in accusation.

You shot her a look, eyes red and watery. "Why wouldn't I want to spend time with you? You're the most important person in my life."

"I-" Jessie stuttered and stalled, unsure how to proceed appropriately. She was always very careful with her words and unpredictable situations like this weren't ones she thrived in. While she contemplated how to respond, you wiped at a stray tear.

"No wonder you want to leave," you said, eyes still set forward and away from Jessie.

Her face screwed up. "What? No. I don't."

"Sure."

Jessie narrowed her eyes at you, entirely perplexed. She sighed audibly.

"I never enjoy leaving you to begin with. But I can't stand it now. I hate leaving for days at a time and missing moments with you and our little one. I love you more than anything. But knowing I have to go...," she trailed off, her gaze drifting down as she found her words. She looked back up at you, encouraged by how you watched her from the corner of your eye.

"Travel used to just be me going through the motions, here one day, there another, it was what it was. Now, since I met you, I miss you so much every time and I'm always so thrilled at the prospect of coming home to you. Nothing feels as good as being in your arms again after I've been away." She watched you helplessly and spoke imploringly. "Please believe me."

"God. I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me," you sniffled as you finally fully looked at her, eyes so sad and her heart swelling immediately at the sight.

She smirked and kissed your cheek, feeling it was safe to do so again. She smiled fully when you didn't pull away and instead leaned into her. She kissed the top of your head as she wrapped her arms around you and chuckled softly.

"Nothing's wrong with you - you're pregnant."

Your body jostled lightly against her as you snickered. You brought a hand up to your stomach and rubbed idly. "I really am, I guess."

Jessie kissed the top of your head again with a smile. "You still mad at me?"

"No. I'm sorry," you said as you cuddled in further. "Thanks for putting up with me. And for the snacks."

She gave you a squeeze. "Don't apologize. This is my end of the deal. it's the very least I can do."

"I appreciate it one way or another," you said as you rest against her.

You sat quietly together for a few moments before you jolted up. "Oh shit."

Cold panic went through Jessie seeing how your hands were on your stomach and you stared down wide-eyed at your bump. She did her best to remain stoic and she reached a hand out to gently rest on yours.

"What's wrong?"

"I-" You started, but stalled. You were quiet for a second before grasping Jessie's hand and pressing it against the underside of your stomach. She held her hand there motionless, eyes shifting from your bump to your face and back again as she waited silently and on the edge of her seat. Your eyes were set on the floor as if you were deep in thought.

Eventually, you let out a small sigh. "I swear I felt a fluttering of some kind. Or a couple of tiny, gentle taps." You sighed once more. "I-"

Suddenly, Jessie felt the faintest sensations under her fingers. They were over nearly as soon as they started, but they were there.

She looked up at you, eyes wide in shock, your expression now one of excitement as you looked back at her.

"Oh my God," Jessie said in wonder as she adjusted her hand slightly, hoping to feel it again, leaning in and looking as though that would make a difference.

You laughed lightly, and that was all she could feel. She frowned at you. "Stay still. I want to feel it again."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said teasingly in exaggeration though you did pause your movements once more.

Jessie remained entirely focused on your stomach, every now and then very purposefully and slowly moving a hand around to try to perhaps feel the sensation somewhere else. She eventually tried talking.

"Hi little one. It's me - your mom," she said softly as she thumbed the swell of your stomach gently. "Do you want to move again for me?" Nothing. A tiny frown formed on her face, but she continued. "I'm really excited to see you at our ultrasound appointment next week. I have your picture up in my locker, you know. I can't wait to get a new one. I love you so much already. My whole locker is going to be pictures of you." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye with a smirk, "and Momma."

Jessie felt around for another minute or two, but to no avail. She huffed and sat back up.

Though she could feel the disappointment weighing on her, her eyebrows bunched together, she relaxed when she finally looked up to see you smiling at her.

"I think they were just telling us they're happy we made up. They don't like when we bicker," you told her. Jessie cocked a smirk and rest a hand against your stomach once more.

"Well, now I want to bicker and make-up again so I can feel them again." Your hand came to rest over hers and Jessie thumbed the back of your hand. "I think they don't like it when I make you cry. Rightfully so."

"Well hopefully they know I was being marginally irrational," you joked. "They'll make themselves known again soon. I'm sure," you told her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "And when they're kicking up a storm in the future and bruising my insides, I'm going to blame you for encouraging them."

----------

The following week, Jessie sat with you again at Dr. Mal's office for the anatomy scan. She gave you a small smile as you lay reclined on the table and the ultrasound tech applied the gel to your swollen abdomen.

Jessie lifted your hand and gave you a kiss on your knuckles before clasping your hand in both of hers. This appointment felt so different than the first ultrasound. While she'd been so nervous the first time around, and it would be a lie to say she wasn't nervous now, this time she felt more excited than anything.

She subconsciously held her breath as the technician brought the probe to your stomach and started scanning. Your hand tightened around Jessie's as images started to form on the screen.

"There's your baby," the technician said as the visuals became more defined.

Jessie beamed, eyes fixed to the screen and only pulling away when she saw your head flick towards her with a glowing smile of your own. She squeezed your hand.

While in the first scan, your baby was merely a small shape, now, your baby was unmistakable. She belatedly realized she was tearing up already just at the image before you.

"I'm going to take a number of images and scans here, and then Dr. Mal will come in after she's reviewed and she'll talk through everything with you. And we'll share all of this with your midwife's office, okay?" The technician reminded you; you both nodded, distracted with the images on the screen instead.

When the technician finished, it was just Jessie and you in the room as you got changed and awaited the results. Jessie beamed as you placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her deeply, a bright smile on your face when you pulled back.

"It all looked good, right? Like, there would've been some obvious signs if something was wrong, right?" You asked as you sat down with her.

Jessie nodded. She didn't really know, though she'd done her best to try to do some research, but she didn't really know what she was looking for.

"Everything seemed fine and the technician didn't let on if anything was concerning, but," Jessie slowed, "if anything were wrong, we'll take things one step at a time and we'll get through it together."

It felt like ages before Dr. Mal entered the room. Jessie let out a breath she'd inadvertently been holding upon seeing her enter with a smile.

After some initial greetings and a general check-in, she finally broached the scans.

"I'm sure you're just wanting to talk about the scans, right?" She asked with a knowing smile. Jessie blushed lightly, but nodded and you answered "Yes." She laughed and nodded. "I figured as much. That's what every parent wants."

She pulled up the scans on a monitor and began walking you both through everything. The placenta's position, the amount of amniotic fluid, how the baby's major organs and structures were developing. Jessie felt relief wash over her as everything was relayed as either satisfactory or even good.

"And although these are simply estimates, based on your baby's gestational age, your baby is developing very well. In fact, they appear to be slightly above the 50th percentile in terms of their size - closer to 65, actually. So, momma, you're doing a great job of nurturing your baby and, mom, you're doing a great job of taking care of her and making sure she has everything she needs. This doesn't necessarily mean your baby will be bigger at birth, but it can be an indicator."

Jessie felt your eyes on her and she inadvertently began to blush.

"And, it says here that you wanted to know the baby's sex. Is that right?"

Jessie nodded rapidly and you affirmed.

While Jessie, of all people, knew that the sex assigned at birth wasn't going to dictate how your child lived their life or who they would grow up to be, you both agreed that you still wanted to know. Neither of you were overly into gender norms, so regardless of what was revealed, it wasn't going to be a blue or pink path forward, you simply were curious and it could help inform some aspects of their arrival.

"Okay. Well, you are going to be the very proud mommas of..."

You both tightened your grip on one another's hand.

"...a baby girl."

A/N: Next chapter will be J and R going on a baby moon up to Canada. Drive-by visit with the Flemings included!

[cosyvelvetorchid]

how about possesive!buck getting annoyed with people flirting with his man right in front of him?

Thanks for the prompt!

You can send prompts to my ask for me to wrote a little something. Bucktommy, saltommy or Tommy.

Thanks 🩶

******

Tommy held Bucks hand and led him through the bar. It was typically busy for a Friday night, although not too overcrowded. After getting their drinks from the bar they stood at a tall table at the back of the room waiting for Karen and Hen to arrive.

A tall dark haired man in his mid twenties knocked into Tommy accidentally, almost spilling his drink.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed

"Don't worry about it." Tommy told him.

"You're gorgeous." He slurred. "Let me buy you a drink."

Buck felt a twinge in his stomach. It couldn't be jealousy because he had never felt that way when his previous girlfriends were hit on. In fact he actually felt kind of a little superior because he knew they'd be going home with him.

"Uh, thanks, man. But I'm taken." He placed a hand on top of Bucks.

"I don't mind. He's cute too." The drunken man winked at Buck, who then choked on his drink.

"We're good, thanks. But you have a good night." Tommy told him. He shrugged and stumbled away.

"That was.. brazen." Buck declared.

"He's right though - you are cute." Tommy kissed his cheek and his blushed.

Not 10 minutes later another man, this one shorter and barely even 21, with long tendrils of chest hair peeking out over the collar of his shirt, walked over and leaned on the table in front of Tommy.

"God those arms! I bet you can bench press me." He giggled. Buck shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah he's pretty strong." Buck answered stepping closer to Tommy. He forced a smile at the man but it was clearly strained.

"What's you're name?" He asked Tommy completely ignoring Buck.

"Tommy. This is my boyfriend Evan." 4 months and Buck still got butterflies when Tommy called him that.

"Boyfriend?" The man questioned.

"Yes." Buck responded more firmly than he had intended. The man simply scoffed and walked away. Within the next 20 minutes 2 other men and one highly inebriated Bride-to-be tried hitting on Tommy.

Buck was frustrated. Partly at those people but mostly at himself. He was not usually the jealous type. And he understood why they tried it on with him - Tommy was beautiful. The most beautiful man Buck had ever met. Tall, muscular, with a cleft Buck would crawl into if he could. Of course other men - and women - would find him attractive. Objectively he knew that. And he trusted Tommy. He knew Tommy would turn them down. Yet still, Buck felt a sense of possessiveness over him that he'd never felt with any other partner. Tommy was his and he wanted the world to know it.

It was childish and ridiculous, he knew that. Yet that little ball of jealous fire was tumbling around in his stomach.

When the next man walked over to their table Buck lost his cool.

"Back off. He's with me." He said through gritted teeth, throwing an arm around Tommys shoulder to puctuate his point. The man's face turned to confusion.

"Good for you?" He said reaching out to collect their empty glasses. Embarrassment hit Buck like a punch in the face.

"Are you okay, Evan?" Tommy asked softly.

"Im fine." He responded a little too quickly.

"Evan." Tommy said, in that vocal truth serum of a tone that Buck found impossible to resist.

"I just.. I get why people hit on you, I mean hello!" His hands gestured up and down Tommy's body. Tommy huffed a laugh. "But.. I don't know, I just feel.. you're mine. And-and.. I don't want to share you. And I know that sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous because I know that you would politely turn them down, and I know that you wouldn't do anything to-"

Buck whimpered as Tommy's lips crashed into his. He expected a quick chaste kiss considering they were in public. Instead Tommy's mouth opened wider and his tongue explored Bucks mouth chasing his tongue. A hand slid down Bucks back, grabbing his ass pulling him into Tommy's body. Bucks hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, moved to the back of Tommy's neck, gripping it hard. Tommy released Buck from his lips, leaving him breathless with a dazed look.

"It's hot as fuck seeing you all jealous." He said in a low voice.

"Im-im not jealous." Buck told him. It was an obvious lie and he knew Tommy knew that. It was game he knew Tommy liked to play.

"You're not?" Tommy moved closer again. He wasn't that much bigger than him yet Buck felt like he was crowded all at once. His hand slowly trailed up Bucks thigh. Buck swallowed.

"N-no."

"You sure about that?" Tommy questioned as he hand grazed the hard on that was making itself known in Bucks jeans. Buck breath caught in his throat. "Good boys tell the truth." He whispered in Bucks ear.

"Fuck. Ye-yes. I.. I was jealous." He admitted; his voice strained.

"Good boy. Now let's get out of here."

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 6)

Plans are being made. And Link is facing his demons as well as he can.

Still taking time to inch my way back to full speed. Things are getting better though and I can feel my fingers itching to write more and more. Still riding the joy of pure indulgence with a feel good favorite. I can never stop myself from rambling in this one.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Finally back in Hateno after several weeks of long, uncomfortable (sand infested. lizalfos infested) travel along the coast (doing your standard business. gathering what supplies you could for Link), and you were ready to just slip into bed for the rest of your life. Maybe even retire early. Ensure you never have to see another damned lizalfos for as long as you live (you won't, but the thought is there).

But it was simply not to be. You'd barely crossed the gates into Hateno proper and already you were planning (reluctantly) an even longer trip into territories you'd never (well. not never. but not for long) thought to venture to. And honestly, you weren't looking forward to it.

And by the look on Skim's and Adino's faces, neither were they.

Not even a day after returning to your home village you'd broken the news to your guards that you were planning a trip towards Goron territory. Though, if you were lucky and utilized your resources wisely, you might never even have to set foot in that brimstone hellscape of a volcano (you hoped).

You'd thought once (some years ago), that maybe it would be a place you should visit. The Gorons were known to be friendly to travelers. The paths were littered with unclaimed mineral and gemstone deposits. And the infrastructure for travel was there thanks to the thriving tourism industry in the area.

It'd seemed like a wonderful idea when you'd started planning such a venture in your early days of merchanting. Back when you were still riding high from making your first small fortune and were still relatively unaware of the world at large. Of its challenges. Of its dangers.

That was until you started gathering information on the hazards in the area, and your opinion of the region took an immediate and drastic turn.

The high death rates associated with heatstroke, dehydration and smoke inhalation were concerning enough. But learning that the volcano occasionally erupted (killing dozens, even hundreds of travelers when it did), and was infested with talus' (over 40 confirmed sightings. nearly 20 unconfirmed). It was enough to put you off.

Skims and Adino knew this. You'd made it a point to explain to them why you wouldn't be heading that direction ever (but apparently not ever, because here you were. planning). No matter how much money could be made harvesting minerals or trading with the locals.

Not the produce trade though, despite what one would think coming from a land known for its lava lakes and frequent wildfires.

The volcanic soil was actually an excellent source of fertilizer (which you wanted. in bulk. as much as you could shove in your mindslate). Making the region around the volcano one of the more prosperous lands for growing crops and herbs. Even when compared to the more central settlements of Hyrule, right on the bread-belt of the land (if you were willing to risk the guardians, that is).

It was a region a farmer (and merchant) could make a fortune, if they were lucky enough to hit brown gold. And If one was willing to take staggering losses everytime the volcano blew its top. And there would be losses. There always was when mother nature got involved with the lives of mortals.

No. You had been eager to get into the fish and cloth (and sand) trade. So close to the volcano, magma deposits were unusually close to the surface in the surrounding lands. And while this created the most beautiful hotspring (entire lakes worth) tourist attractions, it also limited the amount of life-sustaining (and fish-sustaining) water sources in the area. Which, in turn, limited the number of local fisheries and livestock flocks the land could sustain.

The constant presence of ash and volcanic runoff also poisoned much of the water sources in the immediate areas around the mountian. Further adding to the lack of available water sources for fish and livestock (and people too, for that matter. Hence, the sand. A natural filtering agent for locals in the area) to live off of.

So. Fish and cloth (and sand). Those had been your plan a couple years ago. Until the reality of the territory's dangers made you reconsider. And later, dismiss the idea all together.

Knowing this, of course Skims questioned your sudden interest in the northeastern part of Hyrule. A territory you had said yourself was not worth the risk of death and revenue loss to expand your business ventures into.

You had been honest with them, of course (you were always honest with your most trusted guardsmen. when confronted, at least). Though not necessarily forthcoming with the details. Which, frankly, was par for the course as far as your more private dealings were concerned.

"I'm looking to acquire localized goods for an important client." You offered in way of an explanation, letting the things you hadn't said speak volumes. And, of course, Skims merely nodded. Still looking doubtful, but willing to accept your reasoning as your own without contest.

That was another thing you liked about him, other then his fierce loyalty and care. Easy going at the best of times, accepting at the worst. You never had to worry too much about Skims poking holes in your reasonings or explanations. You just needed to pay him, and he was willing to turn a blind eye to your eccentricities.

Adino, on the other hand.

"It's a waste of damned time no matter how important this so-called client of yours is. Just use the stable system instead of draggin' us along to that Goddess forsaken hellhole." Adino snapped, irritable still so soon after the previous trip (the bite a lizalfos nearly took out of his rear near Highland Stable not having helped his already sour attitude). Narrowing his eyes at you with suspicion.

Which was fair, honestly. In any other situation, letting the stable system deliver your desired product would have been the most efficient (and cheapest) way for such a limited and precise order. What would take several months of travel for a merchant (yourself included), the system could get delivered several weeks earlier. Maybe the same amount of time, or slightly longer than originally calculated, if the weather turned unfavorable or a blood moon cluttered up previously clear roads with monsters.

Without knowledge of your mindslate or the connection you have with Link (the previously mentioned client), it does sound like a bullshit reason to undertake such a dangerous journey out of the blue. Especially when there are safer and more cost efficient methods to achieve the same results (sort of). But the fact of the matter is that the system would not be quick enough to deliver your order before Link begun his journey towards Death Mountain.

(And it would be soon. Already there were rumors of the Zora Domain's endless rains easing at the boarders.)

Tally up the timeables, and getting the merchandise yourself was the only feasible way to get ahold of what you needed when you needed it. Where the stable system would require a two way trip to acquire your goods, you needed only one way to get it yourself (and add the slate's instant delivery to Link, and you're set). It was the only way to guarantee you'd meet the rapidly approaching deadline.

Also, you didn't trust the stable system to be as discerning as yourself when choosing suitable product. While you didn't doubt they would put forth their best efforts, you acknowledged that a delivery guild probably had limited knowledge of advanced spell craft and their associated counterfeits.

You couldn't afford to make any mistakes when it was The Hero of Hyrule's life you were working to secure.

Only the very best would do for Link, after all. Even if you had to put in the footwork to ensure it.

You smiled tiredly at Adino, noting how his thin brows were pulled into a deep frow. How his eyes flickered over your road-weary face and sagging posture with veiled intent. Searching and prying and worried. Lips pulled down in displeasure.

He was worried for you. Keeping secrets (something you'd seldom done so openly before. something you'd rarely done, period). Taking seemingly unnecessary risks (something you'd never done at all before this little proposal). All behaviors that were definite red flags. All behaviors that were concerning. Especially coming from someone like you (who you'd become).

And you loved that about Adino. How quietly observant and caring he was when he cared enough to try. Even if he acted like a prickly little cactus most of the time.

"Trust me. I wish I could just let the stables handle this." You'd begun, meeting Adino's (and Skims) gazes as you continued. Sighing. "But this is something I have to do myself. It's important to me."

Skims nodded, having already accepted your reasonings regardless. And slowly, reluctantly, Adino nodded too. Still looking as surly as ever, but willing to back down quietly so long as you were in possession enough of your thoughts to acknowledge the strangeness of your current plans.

"Thank you." And you meant that. Even as the next words hurt your very soul. Perhaps even more than the damned sand (yeah right). "I'll pay you triple if you agree to accompany me as my bodyguards." Skims' and Adino's eyes lit up at that, and you could practically see the rupee signs swimming within them. The bastards.

And somehow Red was suddenly there as well, looking just as bright-eyed and eager as she nodded along with the boys.

Your brow twitched. And Red grinned. Far too many teeth caged within blood red lips.

You sighed.

'Damnit, Link. Why do you cost me so much money.'

---

Sitting on the edge of the Zora Capital's Central Reservoir, Link held the slate in his cold-numbed hands. Looking out over the misty landscape laid out far below, cushioning the shining zora city in its translucent shroud.

The divine beast calmed at his back, as was the spirit still trapped within its confines (patient. kind. understanding. even in the face of death and heartbreak).

His fingers tightened on the slate's smooth edges at the reminder. Knuckles turning white from the pressure of his grip. The chilled ache of his bones a painful burn against his exposed flesh and skin.

His shoulders begun to shake. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, with his own pillow and his own blankets. He wanted to bathe in his shiny round bowl of a bath with his nice smelling soaps and hair cleansers.

He wanted to go home.

He was afraid to go home.

But no. That wasn't true. Not really. It wasn't that he was afraid to go home (to his home. to your home).

It was that he was ashamed. Ashamed of what he had lost. Ashamed of how he had failed.

Seeing Mipha's face (and that was her name. Mipha. the zora woman he may have once loved. not some nameless face peering out of her tomb with sad, accepting eyes) had finally made him understand the weight he carried upon his shoulders now. The burden of his past failings.

And he didn't know how to reconcile these feelings. Of who he was, and the pain he'd left in the wake of his death.

And who he was now, and his inability to grieve these people who had once meant so much to him. And who, in some ways, still did. Even if he couldn't remember why he felt as such. Even as the guilt tore him apart at the seams.

Far below, in the dark waters of the Domain's endless web of rivers. The flashing white of paper slips beneath a rising current. The ink fading into the darkness of the depths.

---

AM,

Thank you for everything you've done for me. Without you, I don't know if I'd have the strength to continue on. Knowing so much has been lost because of my failure.

I'm afraid of what I'll find if I remember who I used to be. I don't think I can be the man so many remember.

I don't want to be him. He's dead. I'm not him anymore. I'm me.

Is it selfish of me to just want to be the man I am now?

I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger for you and everyone who ever believed in me. I'm sorry I don't want to remember how to be strong.

I hope one day you can forgive me.

-Link

---

Back to the shadows to rest.

I forgot the tags before sleeping! Sorry Babies, I know you already found it, but I'll still tag you regardless!

Tagging: @littlepanda7 @2000babies

[katealpha]

Art by RandomGirl1265

While many of the underground facilities built by Vault-Tec have been uncovered over the two centuries that went by after the bombs fell over America. However, one of Los Angeles’ deepest secrets lie just underneath the decimated (and formerly named before the war) Chinese Theater.…

————-

Christina Kirby was just your average movie and TV actress in her late 20s. Born into money and practically raised by Hollywood, she had a promising career ahead of her. The Great War hadn’t affected her life all that much, though one day, she was brought to one of those vaults that were being created in case the worst happened. The plan was outlined to her as she was given a tour around the place. That when the bombs started to fall, she‘d be notified the second any bombs were detected headed towards the country, minutes before any nuclear sirens started going off, and she and other Hollywood names would live underground until the all clear.

It was a neat little place. It was furnished comfortably with many of the decorations based on the Hollywood esthetic. Movie posters, a walk of fame in the hallways, everything looking shiny. Her room was practically a smaller version of what she had in her mansion, but still comfortable and private.

When she was driven home after the tour, she was getting ready to walk through her front door, when she felt herself being grabbed from behind and a wet cloth pressed against her nose and mouth. Christina passed out within seconds, hardly able to struggle.….

————280 Years Later———-

A hydraulic hiss woke Christina up suddenly. Everything was blurry and misty as a glass door opened before her into a dim hallway. She felt horrible. Sweaty, sore, and most of all, severely bloated. As she stepped out of the cylindrical pod, she felt slow and heavy to boot. When her vision cleared, Christina looked down to see that her belly was disgustingly swollen. A gasp left her lips as her hands moved to feel herself. It didn’t take long for her to feel something moving inside of her. That she was pregnant. Very pregnant. Her heart sank and Christina imm began to waddle down one way, searching for anything that could help her, or give her answers.

As she made her way down, she passed by more of those pods like the one she was in. Inside she saw more women. All of them sporting baby bumps of various size. Some looking less than 9 months with one, some looking like they were carrying quadruplets. They all stood still, sleeping. Some were subconsciously caressing their bellies as they shifted and jostled with whatever lie within. Christina looked up and gasped again, seeing their faces and seeing their names on the tops of the pods. All of them were other actresses. Many having much more recognizable names than her. A List stars to lesser known actresses like herself. All Christina could do as she wandered through this place was wonder what was happening to them and why.

———-—

After finding a shower chamber and rinsing off, Christina managed to fit a blue and yellow jumpsuit on and began exploring, hoping to find food and water. She found water cans first, then some food stores with cereal and canned goods. Then, she found various terminals. All of them revealing more and more about what was really going on here.

Apparently, this was part of some horrendous experiment to preserve pre war Hollywood. By kidnapping nearly every prominent actress in the industry, stick them down in this lab, and inseminate them with the seed of multiple sports stars. To combine the genes of the most physically fit men in America with who many considered to be the most beautiful and influential women in entertainment. That by doing this, a new generation of potential entertainers could populate the wasteland. It all made Christina want to throw up, especially with the knowledge that the outside world was a nuclear hellhole, and that over two centuries had gone by, the pods preserving the actresses perfectly, as well as their unborn children.

After Christina gained ahold of her bearings, she ventured to an elevator and arrived in the living quarters upstairs. The place she remembered touring through what felt like yesterday. It was still in decent condition. The vault hadn't been discovered by the outside world, and everything was as it was left by the science staff. A trek up to the Overseer’s office revealed that not only was he dead, but killed by the scientists, who collectively agreed not to participate before their pregnancies reached full term. They left the vault together after over a decade, shutting it behind the. Only the robotic staff and the test subjects remained.

Now, Christina had a choice. One that had her stumped. From that terminal, she could override the pods, and release every woman in the lower levels. Let all those actresses wake up to the same horror Christina had. She couldn’t know what reactions would happen as a result, but she wouldn’t be alone, and the truth would prevail. However, she could also let them rest with their children still inside, and leave this place behind to start a new life. It was a tough choice…one that she hadn’t too much time to make, as one more question popped into her already overwhelmed mind.

When am I giving to give birth?..

[lewmagoo]

million dollar man | rhett abbott

description: in which a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy rescues a young waitress who’s down on her luck

listen to the spotify playlist here!

warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap (rhett is in his mid 40s, reader is in their 20s), mentions of sex work, workplace harassment, financial troubles, a little ageism, smoking, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, begging, choking, creampie, i think that's it?

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

notes: this is one of my longest stories to date. it started out as a simple smut scene and then it turned into an entire backstory. rhett has gray hair in this because i said so. i'm also dedicating this to my fellow old man fucker in arms, @rhettabbotts <3

It was late July. The air was hot and sticky, but the crystal water of the swimming pool was cool on your exposed skin as you sank down into its depths. 

You couldn’t help but let out a long, blissed-out sigh, your eyes drifting shut at the feeling of the ripples washing over you. You couldn’t remember a time in your entire life when you’d felt this relaxed and at ease. Not a care in the world, floating through the water as if you were suspended in a dream. 

And you were, really. A dream that had been made a reality by the man sitting just a few feet away from you, cigarette smoke swirling around him like a halo as the sunlight illuminated his figure, making him appear like an angel. And as far as you were concerned, he was just that: an angel. One who had saved your very life. 

Rhett Abbott was a very powerful man. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around just how powerful he was. It was something he never discussed with you, insisting that he didn’t want his demons tainting you. 

While he had always been nothing but loving and kind to you, you had witnessed the ruthless side of him a few times, namely when he’d rescued you from your old life. 

Rhett had come rolling into town in his Silverado, just passing through, and he met you at the hole-in-the-wall diner you waitressed at. You’d never forget seeing him for the first time. Tall and broad, tan Stetson balanced atop his head. A pair of worn Levi’s with a white T-shirt on top. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

He took his hat off as he took a seat at the counter, revealing a head of graying hair that sent your heart quickening in your chest. Then he smiled at you. You shyly offered him a menu, but he shook his head. “I’ll jus’ have a black coffee, ‘n two eggs, over easy. Toast, bacon, whatever you put on your usual breakfast plates. Please and thank ya.”

His voice caught your attention. Deep and low in his throat, lilted with an accent you couldn’t quite place. But it was clear he was from out west, that much you could tell. 

“Of course! Anything else?” You asked as you scribbled his order down on your pad. 

He considered it for a moment and then he said, “Some jam for the toast, if it ain’t a bother.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his politeness, despite his rough exterior. His shining blue eyes were gentle as they regarded you, and you found yourself distracted by them. You’d never seen eyes so blue. They looked like the ocean. You’d never been, but you’d seen pictures of water that was so blue it was breathtaking. His eyes were even prettier than that. 

“C-comin’ right up,” you finally responded, realizing you were allowing your mind to wander. 

You turned and put your order in with the cook before you quickly moved to pour a cup of coffee. Everything was going just fine until you turned and miss-stepped, sending yourself careening forward. To your utter horror, the mug of coffee slipped from your hands and hit the counter, splashing all over the man, effectively staining his white shirt. 

You gasped sharply, steadying yourself before your hand shot up to cover your mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?! Did it burn you?!” You were shifting into a panic, scrambling to grab a handful of bar towels you kept behind the counter. You rushed around, intending to help the man clean up the mess. 

You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn’t realize that he wasn’t angry with you at all. You were simply so used to customers, and your manager, being rude to you that you just expected a hostile reaction. 

But just as you approached him, he slowly stood, and suddenly, a pair of steady hands were resting over top of your own. You looked up in surprise, only to find those crystal blues gazing steadily down at you. 

“Hey now, don’t fret none, it was just an accident,” he assured you, and the deep velvet of his voice calmed you instantly, bringing you back to yourself, renewing your focus. 

You stared at him in confusion. “I just spilled hot coffee on you, and you aren’t angry?”

He shook his head, gently taking the bar towels from you to dab at the stain himself. “Ain’t no use gettin’ angry over somethin’ you didn’t do on purpose. I got plenty more of these white shirts where this one came from. And I’ve had worse injuries than a measly little burn from some hot coffee. I’m fine. Promise.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders falling relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I really am sorry, though. I’m so clumsy.”

He moved to wipe up the mess from the counter, completely unbothered by it. But he was bothered, however, by the implications of your response. “You have people get angry at you often?” He asked. 

You paused, considering your answer. “Well…some of the men that come in here aren’t very nice. Cranky truckers and whatnot. If you make a mistake they tend to get pissed and take it out on you. And my…” you glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “boss, he’s not the nicest guy out there. He says I’m too clumsy for my own good.”

Something flashed in those blue eyes. You swore they darkened a shade. “Huh. Well, they’re all fuckin’ assholes. You’re just doin’ your job.”

You were floored by his behavior. You’d expected him to insult you for your mistake, to call you some degrading name, like you’d been called so many times before. But instead, he’d offered you kindness and understanding. 

“Thank you,” you earnestly replied. 

He shrugged, taking a seat again on the stool he’d previously been perched upon. “‘s basic human decency to be nice to your fuckin’ waitress. ‘specially when she might have half a mind to spit in your food if you treat her like shit,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, finally turning to gather up the coffee-stained towels and rounding the counter again. As you tossed the towels in a bucket nearby so you could wash them later, the cowboy leaned forward, still eyeing you. 

“I’m Rhett, by the way,” he informed you. 

You shyly gave him your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said. 

“Likewise,” he echoed. His exterior seemed so rough. There was a tattoo of a steer skull inked into the skin of his left forearm. His face was fixed with hard lines, and although he still appeared youthful, you could tell he was older. Mid to late forties, if you had to guess. His eyes held untold stories, things he’d experienced that had turned him into the rough man he was today. But his exterior was misleading, because behind it, he was warm and kind. 

You didn’t know it then, but this was the start of something bigger than you ever could have imagined. This man, with his ocean-blue eyes and velvet voice, would soon become your knight in shining armor. 

Until then, the spell between you was quickly broken when you heard “Order up!” which caused you to jump in surprise. 

You giggled softly at your own jitteriness, and quickly turned to retrieve Rhett’s food from the serving window, thanking Anton, the cook, as you did so. “Here you go! Need anything else?”

“Just a coffee refill,” he replied with a knowing smile. 

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, I got so distracted!” You exclaimed in embarrassment as you hurried to pour him another cup of coffee, this time making sure not to spill it on him. 

“Thank y’ kindly,” Rhett said. 

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else!” 

You busied yourself with sorting clean coffee mugs back into their respective stacks, all while Rhett tucked into his food. You found yourself wanting to speak to him further, to ask him questions about himself, but you were afraid of being a bother, and you were afraid you were misreading his kindness as an invitation to talk to him. 

He’s just being nice, you thought. He doesn’t actually want to talk to me. 

Besides, your boss, Martin, was just in the back. If he saw you bothering a customer he’d flip his lid and use it as an excuse to yell at you. It didn’t take much to piss him off, and for whatever reason, he seemed to particularly have it out for you. The least he was involved, the better. 

Some might question why you kept this job if you were being mistreated by your boss. The fact of the matter was, you had no choice. You were desperately trying to keep up with your living expenses and rent to avoid being evicted from your home. You were severely behind on your utility bills, to the point where the city was going to start shutting things off if you didn’t pay up. 

You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely staying afloat. This waitressing job was the only one you could get in this tiny town, and you didn’t have the time or resources to go hunting for a better-paying job. This was your lot in life, and you were trying to make due. However, you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on. 

You tried your best to keep your head down and do your job, but with the way your boss behaved, and the way this town seemed to have it out for you, it was difficult. You seemed to have garnered a reputation, and you weren’t quite sure how it had started. You heard the way people talked about you when they thought you weren’t listening. Whispers of what you got up to after the sun went down. Accepting money from men in return for sexual acts. 

The truth was, you were not involved in sex work. The only thing you could think might have started the rumor was the fact that Luke Jones, the sheriff’s one and only deputy, had propositioned you for sex once, and when you turned him down, he went off the rails and berated you in front of the whole diner. He must have decided to spread rumors about you behind your back, which had done great harm to your image, and changed the way people treated you. If the cops said you were bad news, everyone believed them, 

You hated this tiny, conservative Christian town, but you were trapped with no escape. 

Rhett Abbott was the first person who’d been genuinely kind to you in a long time. There was no judgment in his eyes as he looked upon you. Not even after you’d embarrassed yourself and spilled his coffee. It made your heart warm in your chest, and you decided that maybe this work shift wasn’t so bad after all. 

Then he was asking you for a coffee refill and you were trying to hide your smile as you turned to grab the well-used coffee pot.

“Thanks,” he said with a nod and a crooked smile. It made your knees weak. 

But the spell between you was soon broken by the sound of your name being gruffly spoken. You jumped, nearly spilling the coffee you were still holding. Rhett watched you, his eyes narrowing as you scrambled to put the carafe back in its place and rush to the back. 

There was a man back there, and just by the time of his voice, Rhett could tell he was no good. He put two and two together and realized the man was your boss, who you’d already mentioned having a short fuse. 

Rhett was a lot of things. He’d committed acts he wasn’t proud of. He had many enemies. There were those who would pay money to see him dead. But one thing he was not, was an abuser. He didn’t mistreat people just for the hell of it. And just from interacting with you, and seeing the way you reacted when you spilled his coffee, he could tell you had suffered a lifetime of mistreatment. 

And that was when he found himself considering something he never thought he’d do. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he’d been bashed in the head one too many times. Either way, he wondered if you would let him take you away from all of it. 

He wasn’t sure why he was so enamored by you. He’d only just met you, and if he offered to take you away right then and there, he was sure you would say no. So he didn’t say anything. But he decided that he was going to remain in this godforsaken town a few more nights, just to see how things played out. 

He hadn’t done much good in his life, but if he could rescue you from your unfortunate circumstances, maybe it would make up for all the years of sin and wickedness. Maybe he could do right by you. Give you the life you deserved, protect you from harm, give you freedom. 

Until then, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He would wait patiently, and swoop in when you needed him to. Although, now seemed like a pretty good time to do that. He could hear your boss shouting, and it sent heat boiling beneath his skin. 

But he resisted the urge to go back there and tear the man apart. He didn’t want to scare you, and such a reaction would be overkill, especially when he’d only known you all of forty-five minutes. 

A few minutes later, you came back to the front, very obviously trying to make it look like you hadn’t been crying. At that point, Rhett had finished his food, and when you saw it, you quietly spoke to him. 

“All ready to finish and pay?” You asked, avoiding eye contact. 

Rhett leaned forward over the counter, lowering his voice. “Shouldn't let ‘im treat you that way.”

You paused, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. You managed to lift your gaze to his, your bottom lip quivering. “I have no choice. It’s either work this job, or end up on the street.”

I could take you away from all this. Those were the words on the top of his tongue. But he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. “Yeah, well, he’s a goddamned prick. Y’ deserve better.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching in your chest. His kindness and understanding were unfathomable to you. Why on earth was he being so nice? And that’s when your brain threw a negative thought at you that made everything come to a screeching halt. What if he was only being kind because he wanted something? He didn’t seem like a creep, and he hadn’t made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. But what if he was just good at hiding it?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words came out before you could stop yourself. 

Rhett leaned back in his seat, grabbing his Stetson before he rose to stand. “Because you look like you could use some kindness. And I don’t believe in mistreatin’ service workers just for the hell of it.”

He dug out his wallet and tossed a $100 bill onto the counter, which more than covered his measly $10 meal charge. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up at him just as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the change. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

Then he was gone, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the diner. “Ninety fuckin’ dollars,” you whispered to yourself in amazement, referring to your tip. You snatched the bill off the counter and quickly rang it up, placing the money beneath the cash tray to be put in the safe later, and taking out $90 in cash for yourself. He told you to keep it, so that was what you were going to do. 

You thought that night would be the last time you ever saw Rhett Abbott. Thought that he appeared like one of those guardian angels you’d heard people talk about, just to give you a little help along the way, before disappearing into thin air.

But the very next night, he walked through the door of the diner again, and your heart began to race in your chest. He was real. Flesh and blood, standing right in front of you. 

He looked just as good as he had the previous night. Except this time, he’d ditched his coffee-stained white shirt in favor of a blue button down, tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his strong forearms, that steer tattoo still on display. 

He took his hat off and sat at the bar, and he gave you that crooked smile of his. It made your knees weak, and you set down the stack of plates you were carrying just so you didn’t drop them. 

The diner had a few customers that night, so you couldn’t focus all of your attention solely on him. Nor could you talk freely, for fear of other patrons overhearing. 

But he was still as charming as ever. “Hey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “miss me?”

Actually, yes. “I thought you were just passing through,” you said. 

He shrugged, resting his elbows on the counter. “Changed my mind.” He held eye contact with you, and it made your heart race. 

You shook off your dazed expression and whipped out your order pad. “What’ll you have?”

“How’s your French toast?” He asked. So he was a big fan of breakfast for dinner, it seemed. 

You shrugged. “It’s pretty good. I’d recommend the pancakes though, Anton makes the batter from scratch and they’re fluffier than a cloud.”

Rhett’s smile grew wider. “Alright then, I’ll have a stack of ‘em. With a couple of scrambled eggs this time. And black coffee.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sure thing. And I’ll try not to spill the coffee on you this time.”

That smile turned into a grin. “Thanks, ‘preciate it.”

That was, unfortunately, as far as your interaction went. You handed him his coffee and then got whisked away to serve food to other customers. A family of five walked in, and seeing as how you were the only waitress on the current shift, you had to take care of them. 

Rhett noticed this, and his brow furrowed. It was hardly fair that you had to do all of this by yourself. Where were the other waitresses?

When you made your way back to the counter to grab his order and hand it to him, he stopped you with a question. “You’re doin’ all this by yourself? Where’s your help?”

You grimaced. “There’s usually only two of us working at night but the other girl has been sick in the hospital so she’s called off a few nights in a row. My boss won’t hire anyone else either so it’s all on me.”

“The more you tell me bout that son’bitch, the more I don’t like him,” Rhett grumbled. 

You shrugged. “Just somethin’ I gotta deal with. You need anything else?”

He wanted to continue the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep you from your work and get you in trouble, so he simply requested some pancake syrup and let you get back to your duties. 

That night, as he left the diner, he gave you another large tip, and you cried over it, not understanding why he would do such a thing. In this place, you were lucky to even get a dollar or two as a tip. 

After those first two nights, Rhett quickly became a regular. Each night he’d walk through the doors, take a seat at the counter, and order breakfast for dinner. And each night, you’d talk to him, and find yourself growing more and more enamored with him with each passing hour. He continued to leave large tips, and it made you think that he had to be rich. No one could afford to throw money around like that. 

But it didn’t feel appropriate to ask him about his money, so you kept your questions to yourself. You fell into a routine of expecting his presence every night, and appreciating those generous tips.

The entire time, however, Rhett was watching you, and he noticed a few things. Of course, there was the way your boss treated you. But he also noticed how some of the customers treated you. They were impatient and short with you, and it only served to make you more frazzled, resulting in a few mistakes on your part. 

You would always apologize profusely and come back to the counter holding back tears. It sent the heat of anger blossoming through Rhett’s chest. He couldn’t stand to watch this much longer. And thankfully, he didn’t, because his opportunity to give you a better life came one night when the diner was particularly busy. 

A group of younger men, one of which wore a deputy’s uniform, were picking on you. They would make comments each time you tended to their table, and Rhett caught wind of every word. Their behavior filled him with such rage that he took his hand off of his coffee cup, for fear that he would crush it in his own grasp, just from his anger. 

He was tempted to step in, but he waited. The next time you walked up to the counter, he caught you. “I can take care of them assholes for ya,” he offered. 

“What?” You asked, unsure of what ‘take care of’ meant in this context. 

“Teach ‘em how to be respectful. ‘Cause they sure as hell ain’t respectin’ you right now. ‘Specially that fuckin’ cop.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. They’re just playing around. Don’t pay attention to them,” you brushed it off. But he could tell it was bothering you. 

The final straw happened when you walked back over to their table, and one of them stuck out his leg and purposely tripped you. You let out a yelp of surprise and went down. Thankfully, you were only carrying a pitcher of water, but the water went everywhere, including all over your white top. 

Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you. 

The cowboy approached the table, kneeling to reach for your hands. He locked eyes with you and calmly asked, “You okay?”

When you nodded, he pulled you to your feet, and without hesitation, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around your shoulders so no one would be able to see through your wet shirt.

“Go outside,” he said to you. 

“But-”

His piercing eyes caught your gaze. “Go. Trust me.”

And you did. Maybe you were foolish for it, listening to this man you’d only known for the better part of a week. But when Rhett told you to trust him, you somehow knew you could. You hugged his jacket to your body and you walked out of the building and into the cool night. 

Back inside, Rhett was seething. He stared at the group of men, and without a word, he reached across the table and grabbed the napkin canister, yanking the top off and dumping the stack of napkins into the lap of the deputy. “Clean up the mess,” Rhett gruffed. 

The boys snickered. “Not my fault this place has clumsy waitresses,” Luke, the deputy, said. 

Rhett growled, and suddenly, he had Luke by the collar. “Clean up the fuckin’ mess!” He barked. Then he slammed the man back down into his seat.

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, jumping back out of his seat as Rhett marched back to the counter to grab his hat. “You realize you just assaulted an officer of the law?!”

Rhett remained silent as he fished out his wallet and pulled out a single $10 bill, slamming it down on the counter. Then he turned, his eyes dark and stormy. 

“I don’t give a shit. Next time, I’ll do a lot worse.” Then he put his hat on his head and sauntered outside. 

He found you leaning against the outside wall, and when you saw him, you wiped at your cheeks, trying to hide the tears. He sighed softly, boots crunching against gravel as he neared you. 

“Thanks for that,” you whispered. 

“Mm,” he hummed in response. You were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, maybe I’m bein’ too forward, maybe I’m fuckin’ crazy, but what if I said I could take you away from all this?”

You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He was as serious as could be. “What?”

“I could. I know I don’t look like much, but I got some money. Got a place out west. Lots of land, horses, cattle. Nice house with a swimmin’ pool in the back. But the thing is…it’s real empty. It ain’t fit for a lonely old cowboy. But it could be a home, with you in it.”

Your eyes widened. There was no way this was real. There had to be a catch. Maybe you were dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was a dream and you’d wake up any minute, curled up on your broken-down old mattress in your tiny, ill-repaired house. 

“I’ll let you sleep on it, if ya need. But I’m tellin’ you right now, you deserve better than this town. It’s like fuckin’ quicksand, it’ll suck you in and you’ll never get out. Believe me, I know.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why would you do this for me?”

Rhett shrugged. “Because I can see you need help, and I have the means to give it to ya.”

You stood there, speechless, your eyes wide and watery. “This isn’t real,” you whispered. “You’re just a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and you’ll be gone.”

“Ain’t no dream, sugar. I’m real and I’m offerin’ you a fresh start. Don’t need to give me an answer right now, you can think about it, but-”

To hell with it. “Yes,” you cut him off. 

His brows raised. He hadn’t expected you to say yes so quickly. Before he could speak again, you continued. 

“Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing going for me here. I’m gonna die in this Podunk town if I don’t get out right now. So yes, I’ll go with you.”

Rhett tilted his head, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Alright then. We can leave tomorrow if y’ want. My place is in Wyoming, it’s gon’ be a long drive.”

You wondered what he was doing so far away from his home state. And in the back of your mind, you knew this was potentially the most foolish decision you’d ever made. What if he was a serial killer who was going to dump your body in some ravine somewhere? But as you looked into the kindness of his deep blue eyes, you knew that those fears were all in vain. This man was not here to harm you. He was here to rescue you. 

So you took a headfirst leap of faith and let him. 

That very same night, you walked back into that diner, tossed your apron onto your boss’s desk, and told him, “I fuckin’ quit.”

You ignored his overdramatic pleading, tuning him out when he shouted after you. You left it all behind and came back outside where Rhett was waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw you, he stamped out the cigarette and pushed off of his truck, which he’d been leaning on. 

“Well?” He asked. 

“I quit. Maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I trust you, and I’ll go wherever you wanna take me.”

And that’s how it all started. 

He took you back home that night, insisting upon it after you told him you’d been walking to work to avoid the cost of gas and car maintenance. 

His truck smelled like him. The faint scent of cherry tobacco, and a cologne that smelled like vetiver and cedar. It was strangely comforting and you found yourself at ease wrapped up in his scent. 

When he pulled up outside your shabby little house with its unkempt lawn, you felt a little embarrassed about your living situation. But if he judged you for it, he made no indication. 

“Pack what’s most important to ya. I can have a moving company come and pack up the rest and ship it to my place.”

You hesitated before you climbed out of the truck, reality finally hitting you in the face. “Rhett…you should know I’m sort of…in trouble. I owe money. I’ve got overdue bills, and people I borrowed money from. If I skip town I’ll be in big trouble.”

Rhett gazed at you, and the yellowish light cast from a nearby street lamp made his eyes look dark, almost brown. “Don’t worry about all that.”

“But-”

“I said I’d take ya away from all this. I mean it. You come with me, and you won’t have to worry about anythin’ ever again. I can promise you that.”

“I can’t ask you to take care of my problems for me.”

“You aren’t askin’ me to. I want to.”

You stared at him in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But your heart was telling you to trust him. If he said he would take care of things, then he would. 

“Okay,” you relented. 

“Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’, around 7 if that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you then.”

Then you slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind you. He waited in your driveway to see to it that you got safely into the house before he finally pulled away.

Once you were inside, you pushed the front door shut and leaned back against it, reeling from what had taken place in the last few hours. Had you really just agreed to run off with this man? Were you crazy? Had you gone completely bonkers? Maybe, but strangely enough, you also had a sense of peace. Somehow you knew this was the right decision. 

So you set about packing a duffel bag with your necessities, and by the time morning came, you were waiting out on your front step for Rhett to arrive. 

He pulled up at 7 o’clock on the dot, and he climbed out of the truck to greet you. “Mornin’.” His kind smile sent a fuzzy warmth rushing through you, as if you’d just sipped a glass of bubbly champagne. 

“Morning,” came your response. He graciously took your bag from you and placed it into the bed of his truck. Then he opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the confines of the vehicle. 

“Y’ hungry?” He asked after he’d settled into his side. 

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you gave him a sheepish look. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll fix that.” He pulled out of your driveway and headed into town, there he stopped at Royal Donut, the local donut shop. He took you inside and let you choose whatever donuts you wanted. You walked out of that shop with a dozen assorted favorites, cups of coffee, and some other bakery items. 

It was more than you could ever eat, but Rhett spared no expense. And as he drove, you happily ate your fill of donuts, a treat that you never bought yourself. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying the sweet treats. 

And thus began your trip to Wyoming with a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy. 

The further away you got from that shitty town, the more at ease you felt. You relaxed into the leather seat of Rhett’s Silverado, and you let yourself forget about your problems for just a little while. 

You found Rhett incredibly easy to talk to. He had this way about him that made you want to talk to him. You wanted to know more about this man who’d walked into your life and whisked you away. This was the kind of thing that only happened in movies and storybooks. It didn’t happen to small-town girls who led flat, broke-down lives. 

And yet, there he was, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, looking like a dream with his hair haphazardly brushed back with his fingers, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with an ornate belt fastened around his waist. 

There was a pair of black cowboy boots on his feet. You never thought you’d find such a thing attractive, but you did. He was every bit a cowboy as you could have imagined. Open pack of Marlboros in the cup holder. Pistol in the glove compartment. Dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror. 

He told you the dreamcatcher was given to him by an old friend named Joy Hawk. “She passed a few years ago. Every time I look at it I think of her.”

You admired the colorful beads, watching as the feathers fluttered from the air conditioning. Someday, you would find that same dreamcatcher beside your bed, because Rhett noticed you admiring it so much that he decided you should have it. But until then, it would remain dangling upon his rearview. 

During that lengthy road trip, you talked about anything and everything. You revealed some details about your life and explained why you had a negative reputation, of sorts, within your town. 

“You mean that fuckin’ asshole that tripped you spread rumors that you were tradin’ sex for money?” He clarified, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. 

“I-I think so. That’s the only reason I can think the rumor even got started. His pride was hurt when i said I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deeply. “I shoulda beat his ass like I wanted to. Fucker deserves it.”

You shook your head. “What you did last night was more than enough. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get arrested on account of you defending me. I’d feel so bad,” you said. 

“I wouldn’t’ve gotten arrested. And even if I did, they’d let me go after I made a phone call.”

You looked at him curiously. “Why? You famous or something?”

“Not really. Won a couple bull ridin’ circuits. Own a cattle ranch. I just have good connections. And a good lawyer.”

Something about his answer made you think he was being modest. With the way he threw money around so freely, and the way he was dressed, you knew he was more wealthy and powerful than he was letting on. But you chose not to question it further. If he wanted you to know more, he’d tell you. 

Instead of talking about his status, he changed the subject. He talked about his family, and how rocky his relationship was with them. 

“It all fell apart when I was in my early 30s. Found out my wife was cheatin’ on me with my brother.”

Your jaw dropped at his revelation. “Oh my gosh. With your own brother?! That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “I got over it. But it took me a while. I spiraled pretty hard after it. Did some shit I ain’t proud of, all because I was angry. But that was a long time ago. I’m in a better place now.”

“You never remarried?”

“Nah. Just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. Maria, my ex-wife, tried to rekindle things but I never could look her in the eye again after what she did. So I just put all my focus into buildin’ a life for myself. Rode in a few rodeos. Built a house. Been runnin’ a cattle business for the last decade. Haven’t had time for anyone special.”

“Except for me,” you quietly murmured. 

He smirked, nodding in agreement. “Except for you, little darlin’.” Then he paused. “‘s alright if I call ya that?”

“Yeah. I like the sound of it.”

From that moment on, you became Rhett Abbott’s little darlin’, and everything changed. You wondered what made you special. What made him decide, fifteen years after his marriage went down the drain, to open his arms to someone else? 

You’d never understand, but you didn’t have to. Rhett had pulled you from the miry pit you’d been sinking into, and you would be forever grateful to him for it. You didn’t know it yet, but he would soon lavish you with everything you could ever want or need. He would provide for you beyond your wildest dreams, and you would wake up every day and thank your lucky stars that he had walked into that shitty hole-in-the-wall diner and swept you off your feet. 

Now you were on your way out west to his big ranch to start a new life. You had no idea how he was going to work out all the details. There were still so many loose ends you had to tie up in your personal life. To anyone else, this decision probably seemed like the most foolish decision you could’ve possibly made. But to you, it felt like fate, so you decided to take it as such. 

Instead of worrying about those things, you allowed yourself to be in the moment, getting to know Rhett during all those hours in the truck together. He got you whatever you wanted to eat along the way. Fries, milkshakes, your favorite treats. You felt a little bad that he was spending money on you, but at the same time, it felt nice to be spoiled, so you allowed yourself to bask in it. 

The trip took twelve hours in total, and toward the end, you fell asleep with your head resting against the window. A few hours later, you woke with a start when you felt the truck pulling to a stop. 

“Shh, you’re alright,” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. “Just pullin’ into the drive.”

Suddenly, you were very much awake as you realized what you were looking at. You’d finally arrived, and although it was dark, you could see that the property was large. And the house you were approaching was bigger than you could’ve imagined. 

Your eyes went wide. So he was rich, rich. 

You were essentially speechless as you climbed out of the truck and followed Rhett to the front door. There was a motion light that had turned on as soon as he pulled the truck to a stop, illuminating the front of the large house. It was designed to look like a rustic cabin, but much bigger. Wood beams framed the expansive porch. Even the front door was wooden. A few rocking chairs decorated the porch. Green fern plants hung from the ceiling, creating a whimsical feel.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting his home to look like, but this exceeded your wildest expectations. You drank everything in as he took you inside, standing there dumbly in the entryway as he reached over and flipped several light switches on one switchplate, illuminating the front of the home.

An entry area with a plush rug stretched out before you. It opened up into the main living room, which was furnished with two leather couches, some comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs, a bearskin rug, a custom coffee table, and so many more odds and ends that made it feel like a home. 

“Whoa,” you whispered to yourself in amazement. Your own home looked like a tattered shoebox compared to this. “How is this real?”

Rhett smiled at your wonder. “It’s real. Built it myself.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers. “You built this?!”

“Not by myself, I had a lotta help, but yeah. C’mon, let me show you where you’re gon’ be stayin’. I’ll give ya a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re wiped out and want some sleep.”

You were in fact wide awake, but you let him lead you up to your room anyway. You followed up up the wide, wooden staircase and up to an open hallway, complete with wooden banisters. It overlooked the main floor of the house and gave you an idea of just how big the place really was.

On your way down the hallway, you passed a few different rooms, and you noticed that one had a nameplate on it with the name Amy etched into it. You wondered if it was too forward to ask him about it, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

“Who’s Amy?” You asked as you trailed after the man.

He glanced back at you. “Amy’s my niece. She don’t stay here much anymore, she’s grown, and she’s off backpackin’ through the Appalachian Trail with her wife, last I heard. I just kept her room the way it was in case she ever needs to stay with me.”

You nodded in understanding, and you wondered if she was the daughter of the brother that Rhett’s wife had cheated on him with, but you didn’t ask any more questions. You already felt like you were imposing enough as it was, and you felt it was rude to interrogate this man who’d just invited you into his home out of the goodness of his heart.

You didn’t have time to continue your questions anyway, because Rhett stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door to another bedroom, motioning for you to step inside. The first thing you noticed was its coziness, with a large, plush rug covering most of the floor. The bed was queen-sized, set inside a bedframe made of logs. 

There were rich oak nightstands on either side of the bed with ornate wrought iron lamps. There was even a flatscreen television mounted to the wall across from the bed. But best of all, there was a large, stone-hewn fireplace along the far wall. You were blown away. It was the nicest bedroom you’d ever seen. And the bed looked so inviting. Maybe you would finally get a good night’s sleep and wake up without any lower back pain, as you were prone to.

“Rhett, I…” you started, but you couldn’t form the words.

He smiled as he walked over to place your bag atop the bed. “Don’t mention it, little darlin’. For now, I want ya to get some sleep. Bathroom’s right over there,” he motioned toward a door on the other side of the room. “Should be toiletries and whatnot in there. My housekeeper Kira usually keeps everythin’ stocked.”

Your brows shot up. He had a housekeeper? It only made sense, seeing as how the place was so big and he was only one person. Even so, it was a lot to process. How on earth had you gotten so lucky to meet this guy? It still felt like a sick joke that God was playing on you. But you’d enjoy the joke for as long as you could.

However, there was no joke. No one was pulling a fast one on you. Rhett Abbott was a sincere man who truly wanted to help you, a poor waitress down on your luck. And help you, he did. After you got settled in that night, he set about doing exactly as he told you he would; taking care of things.

Over the next few weeks, he began the process of having all of your things moved to his place. He worked behind the scenes to cover all of your financial expenses. He paid any outstanding balances and bills you had, down to the very last dime. 

In just a short amount of time, your entire life changed. You went from barely keeping your head above water, to floating atop the same water on a pool float with a mimosa in hand. Rhett became your protector, your provider, the best thing to ever happen to you. 

Gone were the days of worrying if you’d have enough money to buy groceries or pay your electric bill. As the months went by, Rhett provided everything you could ever need or want. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, food, hygiene products. He spared no expense and he was more than happy to lavish you with those things.

He’d well and truly become your savior, and you would be forever grateful to him for giving you a chance when no one else would.

As time passed, and you fell into an easy routine of life with the gray-haired cowboy, you found yourself falling in love with him. Being in his presence felt so safe and warm, and you became drunk off of that feeling. You couldn’t help but fall head over heels, and he was there to catch you when you did, confessing that he, too, loved you. 

It felt natural. It felt right. And Rhett hadn’t allowed himself to love anyone in this way since his marriage had fallen apart. Even then, he never truly knew what love was. He’d only married Maria because he was afraid of being alone. A lot of good it had done him, because he’d ended up alone anyway.

But all of those events in his life had led him here, to you, and he realized then that it was all worth it. The pain, the suffering, the hardships he’d endured were simply molding him into the man you needed him to be. Taking care of you gave him purpose.

He pledged himself to you, promising that he would take care of you for as long as he lived, and even after, he would see to it that you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You would be financially set for the rest of your life. It was a concept that was so foreign to you that it was difficult to wrap your mind around.

Money would never be a concern for you ever again.

But for you, it wasn’t about the money. Of course, the financial stability was wonderful, but you came to the conclusion that you would be happy with Rhett no matter your situation. Rich, poor, anything in between. You were content with all of it as long as he was by your side. Not only was he your savior, but he was also the love of your life. 

He had so much to teach you, from all the years of life he’d lived. He’d seen so much in his forty-five years, he had many stories to tell, and you eagerly listened to all of them. As time went on, he opened up more and more. 

You were curious as to how he made so much money. He didn’t tell you all the details, but the gist was that he raised and sold cattle, and it had become a wildly successful means of living for him. Before his livestock business, he was a bull rider. You’d seen the medals and trophies in his office. He was modest about his riding career, but his awards boasted of national fame in the rodeo circuit. He was one of the best there was.

He explained that he’d had to give up riding when he was still young. “Most guys get ten or so years in the circuit. I got seven. Fucked up m’ shoulder and wrist one too many times. Got to the point where I couldn’t hold onto the ropes anymore. My last ride damn near killed me, I thought I could handle it but I lost m’ grip and went down. Landed me in the hospital for a month.”

He showed you the various scars and injuries he’d suffered during his riding career. His shoulder was littered with aged scars, which were from extensive surgeries he’d undergone just to be able to use it still.

After that, you spent many a night massaging lotion into that shoulder, just to give him some temporary relief of the pain he still suffered. He was grateful for your gentle touch, and he found himself marveling at how he got so lucky to find someone like you.

But life wasn’t all rhinestone cowboys and star-spangled rodeos. While he made an honest living with his job, he had his fair share of issues when it came to his wealth. After his divorce, he’d spiraled out of control and gotten himself in trouble with some powerful people. 

Those days were behind him, and he’d since paid his dues, but he still had those enemies who would jump at the chance to see his success go down the drain. Particularly the neighboring Tillerson ranch. 

The Abbotts had a long history with the Tillersons. And that history had carried on through each generation. Rhett’s father, Royal, had been dead for the better part of a decade, and the Tillerson patriarch, Wayne, had been dead for even longer. But his sons were still alive and kickin’. And they’d do anything to knock Rhett down a few pegs and gain the upper hand in the business realm. 

Rhett had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. He was the son of an impoverished cowboy, he had extremely humble beginnings and was always told he wouldn’t amount to much. But he’d proved everyone wrong just by succeeding. Because of all the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into his livelihood, he was especially protective of it, and never allowed anyone to threaten what was his. 

You knew Rhett was protective. You had seen it early on when you first met him, when he defended you against those boys in the diner. But you saw it again one day when you faced his competitors one night at a rancher’s event. 

He told you that you didn’t have to go. “Don’t want ya to feel obligated, little darlin’.”

“I want to go, so I can support you,” you insisted. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up seeing my man dressed up all fancy.”

He smiled shyly. “If you’re sure, then okay.”

“I’m sure. Plus, it’s high time I let everyone know you’re off the market, right?”

Despite your upbeat attitude, part of you was nervous. Rhett had told you how some of these people behaved, and how judgmental they could be. You were afraid of what they might say when they noticed how much younger you were than Rhett. 

But your relationship wasn’t something you wanted to hide. To hell with what others thought, or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. You wanted to walk in on Rhett’s arm and have him show you off. 

And that was exactly what you did. Rhett bought you a new dress, a deep blue to match the shirt he wore. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wore his nicest pair of jeans, the blue shirt with a bolo tie around the collar, his most expensive belt, decorated with his favorite buckle that was polished to perfection. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a jet-black hat atop his head. 

He’d never looked more beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to be called his. You walked into the event that night with your arm looped through his, butterflies of nervousness fluttering in your belly. 

“You’re gon’ do just fine,” he quietly assured you. You smiled and squeezed his bicep in thanks. 

And you were just fine. Until it came time to meet people. You were content to keep to yourself, safely tucked into Rhett’s side. But everyone noticed you, because it was a rarity for him to come to an event with a plus one. 

It was Luke Tillerson’s wife, Camilla, that took it upon herself to find out who you were. “Who’s your little friend, Rhett?” She spoke up. 

Little friend? You didn’t like her tone. But Rhett didn’t let it affect him. He tightened his arm around your waist and replied. “This here’s my girlfriend,” he introduced you. 

The woman made a face, eyeing you up and down. You immediately felt scrutinized. “Oh, how…cute.”

“She is, ain’t she?” He said, gazing down at you lovingly, purposely ignoring her implication. But he could tell you were bothered, he could see it in your eyes. You stepped closer to him, pressing yourself against his side. 

You’d never felt so out of place in your life. These people were all filthy rich. They’d been born into wealth. Surely they would see you as Rhett’s charity case if they knew your background. 

“Abbott!” A male voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. An older man dressed in an expensive suit and sporting a stereotypical handlebar mustache approached Rhett, and before you or Rhett could protest, he whisked him away, claiming he had someone for him to meet. 

This left you entirely alone with Camilla. Your palms grew sweaty and your muscles tensed. You were afraid she was going to start prying into your business. And sure enough, she did. 

“You’re awfully young,” the woman remarked, idly sipping the expensive cocktail she held between her manicured fingers. 

“And what about it?” You asked, immediately defensive. You’d been afraid this would happen. 

“Oh, don’t take it personally, hon. I just didn’t think Rhett would stoop to such a level. I mean, what are you, mid-20s? He must have been incredibly desperate.”

You bristled, your skin growing hot beneath your dress. “I really don’t appreciate that,” you gritted out. “He isn’t desperate. It’s not like that.”

Camilla laughed it off. “Oh, you sweet child. You don’t get it, do you? He’s having a midlife crisis. You’re only a phase. Once he gets sick of you? He’ll drop you like a bad habit. He’s only interested in one thing, and it’s not your brains or pretty face.”

You wanted to throw angry, biting words right back at her, but you were speechless. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to speak so boldly to someone she’d never even met. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and although you willed them to go away, they wouldn’t. 

“H-he’s not like that,” you whispered, repeating yourself. You had been with him for nearly a year. Not once did he ever display the tendencies she was describing. 

“Honey, I’m just trying to warn you so you don’t get hurt when he gets bored. Go find a man your own age before it’s too late.” 

Those tears welling in your eyes began to make their way down your cheeks before you could stop them. You couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. Camilla said something else to you, but you didn’t hear her. You were too overwhelmed, too hurt. Your immediate instinct was to find Rhett. With your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as you tried to hold in your tears, you turned, your blurry eyes scanning the room for him. 

But Rhett had already seen you, and he was making a beeline for you. As soon as he appeared in your line of sight, you knew he was going to come to your aid. He’d been watching you warily from the corner of his eye as he talked to a potential new business partner, because he knew how Camilla Tillerson was. She’d never grown out of her high school mean-girl phase, and she thought just because she was Mrs. Luke Tillerson she could behave whichever way she wanted. 

When he saw your shoulders tense, he knew something was wrong, and he excused himself to come to you. And then you turned, and there were tears in your eyes. It set off alarm bells in his head, and his chest tightened as anger welled up inside him.

As soon as he reached you, he was pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his arms. Rhett had it handled, you didn’t have to worry anymore. “The fuck did you say to her, huh?!” He demanded.

Camilla’s eyes widened. “Nothing! I was just trying to give her some friendly advice, woman to woman.”

Rhett glared at her. “Like hell you were. You really gon’ stand there and insult my gal? And ain’t it convenient that you waited ‘til I walked away to do it?”

“Hey, there a problem here?” Another voice chimed in. This time, it was Luke’s.

Rhett sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, your wife. Tell her to keep her big mouth shut.”

He ignored Luke’s dramatic reaction, opting to instead end the argument and tend to you. He tucked you under his arm and he led you out of the room. You didn’t see it, but he made sure to hold his hand out behind him as he went, his middle finger in the air to get the message to Luke and his wife across. 

Once he had you outside, he led you to the truck, where he stopped to let you pull yourself together. You wiped at your wet cheeks, and he kindly gave you the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket to help. 

“How can someone be so mean?” You whimpered softly.

Rhett fought the urge to go back inside and start yelling. It wouldn’t help anything, and it would only get him banned from the event altogether for acting like a fool. Instead, he focused on you. “What’d she say to you, baby?”

You sniffled, staring down at the handkerchief as you gingerly folded the fabric over itself. You relayed the words Camilla had spoken to you, and you watched as Rhett’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving slightly. 

“That fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted out. Then he grimaced apologetically. “‘scuse the term, I don’t like to call ladies names but that one deserves it. I can’t believe she’d do that to ya.”

“It’s what I get for thinking I could measure up to all this. I’m nothing compared to all those people in there. They’re filthy rich and I’m just fuckin’ trailer park trash!”

In an instant, Rhett had your face in his hand. “Don’t you dare start talkin’ like that about yourself. I ain’t gon’ stand for it. You got just as much a right to be there as anyone else.”

“Do I? Or am I just your arm candy?” As soon as you said the words, you regretted them. 

“You know that’s not true,” he lowly said. “You’re not a fuckin’ object, alright? You’re a brilliant human being and I’m sorry the others can’t see that.”

You wanted to say more, but you were too emotional. “Can we please just go home?”

Rhett sighed softly, but relented. “We’ll talk more about it later.” And then he opened the passenger door of the truck and allowed you to climb in. 

Camilla’s words and attitude had really gotten to you. You knew what she said about Rhett wasn’t true, but there was still that nagging voice of insecurity that made you think it was true. 

What if he did eventually get bored of you? What if he didn’t even love you and he truly was only interested in you for what you brought to the table sexually? Those were all lies, and you knew that. But the longer you let them fester, the more tortured you felt. 

When you arrived home that night, you went right up to the bedroom without saying a word to Rhett. He stood at the foot of the steps and watched you go up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed tiredly and sauntered over to his extravagant liquor cabinet. 

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he poured another, and then made his way upstairs to where you were already getting ready for bed. He decided to give you a few moments of silence before he tried talking to you again. You obviously needed a little time. 

Instead, he busied himself with getting ready for bed himself, shedding his clothes and slipping into a fresh pair of underwear to sleep in. Then he finished off his whiskey before he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

It wasn’t long before he was settling into bed, all while you were still busy at your vanity, going through your skincare ritual. He gave you that time to yourself as he cracked open the book he’d been reading the last few nights, perching his reading glasses on his nose as he did so. 

A few minutes later, you joined him in bed, slipping beneath the plush covers. He didn’t waste another moment as he quickly set his book aside. “We need to talk this out.”

You sighed. “I know.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think y’ do.”

You looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Listen, I ain’t the best with words, but…I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me. I don’t give a shit what Camilla Tillerson says. She’s wrong, you hear me? You’re not just some phase that I’m gon’ get bored of. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me a better man and I’m forever grateful, you hear me? So fuck what all them prissy, starch-collared cowboys think. Because I know the truth. And the truth is that you’re the love of my life. Nothing’s gon’ change that.” 

At his earnest confession, your eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. 

“I love you, you hear me, girl? I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.”

And somehow, you knew he would.  

His confession eased your fears, but there was still that little insecure voice within you. However, somewhere along the way, you determined in your heart that you were done caring about what people thought. 

You loved Rhett, and he loved you. You weren’t going to hide that. So you continued attending events with him, walking in with your head held high, proud to be standing by your man’s side. You didn’t let anyone talk poorly about him, or yourself. You stayed far away from Camilla Tillerson, and you refused to listen to comments that she or her family made toward you. What they thought didn’t matter. 

Rhett proved his love to you over and over again. He showed you that what you shared was real and true. That you were the only one for him. And it wasn’t long before he pledged that love to you with a ring. 

You were married in the woods. You wore a whimsical dress with a crown of flowers in your hair. You even got Rhett to wear flowers in his hair. You said your vows under an old weeping willow, with the local pastor officiating. Rhett’s niece Amy and her wife flew in to witness the marriage, and his mother Cecelia, who was well up in years, but still just as lucid and fiery as she’d ever been, came too. 

It was a quiet, intimate ceremony. And after it was all said and done, Rhett treated you to a honeymoon in the mountains, in a little log cabin built for two. It was blissful and dreamy and everything you ever could’ve hoped your honeymoon to be. 

He treated you like a queen, and you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was it for you. There was no one else you could imagine spending your life with. He’d found you at rock bottom and offered you a steady hand to hold, slowly pulling you to your feet and building you up until your old life was but a bad memory. 

With Rhett, you wanted for nothing. You were loved, provided for, protected. He was the greatest gift you’d ever been bestowed, and you cherished him every waking moment. 

Now, whenever there were business events to attend, you walked proudly by his side, displaying the beautiful ring he’d placed upon your finger, letting everyone know that you were the one that had made Rhett Abbott believe in romance again after all these years of wallowing in his own loneliness. 

Your life together was sweet, and it went down easy like a spoonful of honey. Gone were the rough days and the fear of wondering if you’d end up living on the streets. Now, you woke up every morning to the sun streaming through your windows and your husband’s strong arm slung across your waist, and you silently whispered a prayer of thanks to the universe for it.

That was exactly the kind of morning you’d just woken up to. It was early, especially to be awake on a Sunday morning, but you were alert as could be. Beside you, Rhett was still sleeping peacefully, the sheets slung loosely over his naked hip, his silver hair mussed against the pillow. 

Sundays were his day of rest. He wasn’t above doing hard labor, and could often be found working out in the fields with his ranch hands. But Sundays were reserved for rest and spending time with you. Usually, you would gently wake him, but because it was early, you decided to let him rest a little longer. He deserved it after a long and arduous week. 

Instead, you slipped out of bed and went to get into your swimsuit so you could jump into the in ground pool in the back. Although the sun had barely been up that long, it was already quite hot outside, and you were eager to take a dip in the cool water to start your day. 

You donned a white bikini. It was simple, but it was Rhett’s favorite. Particularly because the straps wear easy to untie and gave him easy access to the body that he loved so much. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, because you knew he would be delighted to wake up to the sight of you in your skimpy bathing suit clinging to your wet skin.

As you sneaked back through the bedroom, he was still sound asleep, and you left him be. You padded through the house with your feet bare, the air conditioning cool against your exposed skin as you went, raising goosebumps in its wake. 

But the second you stepped outside, you warmed right up. You stopped to grab a beach towel and a bottle of SPF in the outdoor cabinet near the door, and then you took a moment to put on the cream, allowing it to soak in for a bit before you stepped toward the pool and dipped your foot in, shivering at the coolness. 

Sucking in a breath, you finally went for it, quickly lowering yourself off of the concrete edge and plunging straight into the water. You squeaked at the cold shock, but moments later, your body grew used to the temperature, and you relaxed, closing your eyes for a moment before you swam to the other edge of the pool to grab a large innertube to float around on. 

You pulled it over your body and then rested your arms over the inflated edge, breathing out a sigh as you let yourself float around aimlessly. You rested your head atop your hands, letting your eyes drift shut as the water gently lapped at your body. It felt heavenly, and you relished in every moment of it.

You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man. 

“Thought I’d find y’ out here.” Speak of the devil.

You smiled, lifting your head to take in the sight of your husband. He was dressed only in the white underwear he’d worn to bed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander brazenly, drifting toward his crotch.

“Mornin’, Daddy,” you sighed. 

He raised a brow as he stopped at the edge of the pool. You eagerly swam toward him, and he leaned down to kiss you. “Mornin’, little darlin’. Sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.”

He smiled, kissing you again before he turned, opting to take a seat on one of the soft lounge chairs. You watched as he reached into the side table that stood beside the chair, pulling out his pipe set. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as you watched him ready the old pipe. It had been given to him by his grandfather, and he only used it once in a while. It was intricate, hand carved and passed down through the generations.

He noticed you eyeing him, and he smirked. “What? I’m feelin’ fancy this mornin’, sue me.”

You shook your head. “Oh, no, keep going. You know how sexy I think you look with a pipe.”

He rolled his eyes as he pressed a scoop of cherry tobacco down into the pipe. “Yeah. Sexy like a fuckin’ grandfather.”

“Exactly.”

He snorted in laughter. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot who I was dealin’ with. My wife loves old men.”

You giggled in response. “Hey, I only have eyes for one old man, and that’s you.”

You shared a good-natured, knowing look with him before you spontaneously turned and dipped back into the water. Rhett leaned back against the lounge chair, taking a puff from the pipe and letting the smoke curl into the air. He watched you through hooded eyes, admiring the way your body moved in the water. He noticed that you were wearing his favorite bikini of yours, and he couldn’t help but groan low in his chest. 

You swam about for a few more laps, all under Rhett’s watchful eye, before you finally decided to get out of the water. You felt his gaze on your body as you emerged from the pool dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to your skin. Your nipples were prominent beneath the fabric against your breasts, and Rhett could see it clearly. 

You grabbed the towel you’d set out early, using it to dry your body, right in front of your husband. You turned to catch his cool blue gaze, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees. He stared right at you as he brought his pipe back to his lips, and this time, when he released the smoke, he created smoke rings that floated up into the air. 

God, did he really have to make everything so sexy?

“What’s’a matter, honey?” He teased, a twinkle in his eye.

“Nothin’!” You peeped, shaking your head as you finished trying off. 

He smirked again, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. Then he leaned back, spreading his legs. You had full view of his cock, and those heavy balls of his, barely hidden by the fabric of his underwear. You swore you began salivating, and he wasn’t even hard yet. 

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, little darlin’.”

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play. Without a word of protest, you tossed your towel aside and climbed into his lap. He set his pipe in its cradle so both of his hands could rest on your hips. “Look so pretty, glimmerin’ like a fuckin’ diamond,” he mused, admiring your damp, shimmering skin.

You leaned in, searching out his lips, and he obliged you, kissing you languidly. In the process, you lifted your hand, discreetly tugging at one of the ties on your bikini top. When you parted, the top conveniently fell, revealing your breast.

“Oh, oopsie!” You exclaimed. 

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oopsie.” But he brought his hand up to untie the other side, and then the back. With ease, he plucked the fabric from your body and tossed it aside, revealing your chest. “Much better.” Then he surged forward, opening his mouth to swirl his hot, wet tongue around a nipple. 

You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you. 

“I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.”

He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”

He went back to mouthing at your breast, his other hand coming up to knead at the one he wasn’t laving his tongue all over. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him as you relished in the feeling of his teeth gently scraping against your nipples. It sent shockwaves of pleasure crackling along your spine, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute. 

Rhett was obsessed with your tits. He always wanted his hands or his mouth all over them, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured, his large, warm hands squeezing your ass. “Mind if I fuck t’ out here, baby? Or would you rather go inside where it’s cooler?” He was always so considerate of your comfort. 

“Out here,” you gasped as you pulled his mouth to yours, your fingers threading through that silvery hair. “Don’t wanna wait.”

He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled. 

“Can’t help it,” you sighed as you positioned yourself so your pussy was against his slowly hardening cock. “Need my daddy right now.”

He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.” 

You whined in response, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you began to rock your hips back and forth. His big arms came up to wrap around your torso, and you basked in the feeling, eyes drifting shut. You felt so safe, surrounded by him. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco was comforting, paired with the scent of his shampoo, and the natural, intoxicating musk that could only be described as Rhett. 

You could get drunk off of his scent alone. 

When he realized you were inhaling him, he hummed knowingly. You were like a little puppy, the way you always sniffed at him. He found it endearing. 

But then he felt your cunt soaking through the fabric of his underwear, right against his cock, and he forgot all about that cute little quirk of yours, his brain short-circuiting. 

Above him, you could feel him growing harder and harder against you. It was your favorite feeling, because when he was hard, he grew so big. You’d never forget the first time you saw his hard cock. You had meekly questioned how it was going to fit inside you. 

Now you took it like a champ, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still like to talk it up and tell him how big he was. You knew how much it got him going. 

You looked down, and whimpered pathetically when you saw him growing between your legs. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips more quickly, building friction. 

“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, baby. We got all mornin’, ain’t no rush.”

He tipped your chin up to kiss you again, and you shivered in his arms. “I know. But I wan’ you now. Need to be full, need your fat fucking cock inside me.”

Rhett’s eyes widened at your brazen language. He wasn’t shocked by it, he just wasn’t used to you being so bold right off the bat. Usually, it took getting you a little worked up for the filthy talk to start, but he was already getting your unfiltered desires and you’d barely even begun.

Before he could reply, you were scrambling to get his underwear down his legs. Moving quickly, he aided you, yanking them down the rest of the way and kicking them aside. 

Without warning, your hand was on him, stroking him to full hardness as he grunted in surprise. You leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from your pursed mouth, right onto the shiny, pink tip. 

You used it as lubricant to stroke him further, but within seconds, he was gently pulling your hand away. He then reached between your thighs and slid his middle and ring fingers inside you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat. “Gotta get you ready,” he murmured, and suddenly he was fucking his fingers into you hard and fast as you squealed and fell forward against him, the obscene wet sound reaching your ears. 

You weakly grasped at his arm, unable to speak, but you knew if he kept going you’d end up squirting all over him. “Da-d-daddy!” You managed to squeak. 

And then, all at once, he stopped. He pulled his fingers from you and used your slick to further lube up his cock. You watched, salivating as the tip began to glisten with precum. Eagerly, you reached down, swiping your finger over the slit and smearing it around. 

Rhett gasped, shivering at the sensitivity. 

“So pretty, Daddy,” you mused, admiring the glimmering hardness beneath you. 

“S’all for you, little darlin’,” he rasped. Then he grabbed your hips, arranging you properly before he aligned himself with you. “Let’s see if this needy pussy is ready f’ me.”

He ran the plush tip over your aching clit, and you trilled softly, closing your eyes in anticipation. Then, finally, you felt him as your entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he began to push into you. Little by little, your anatomy stretched to accommodate him. You could feel every vein, every twitch, and it already had your eyes rolling back in your head. 

“‘ere you go,” he praised, his eyes fixed on the place where your bodies met. “Just a little further. C’mon honey, I know you can do it.”

At his encouragement, you sank down all the way, until you felt his balls pressing against you and you’d taken him down to the hilt. Then you glanced down and smiled proudly. “I did it, Daddy. I took the whole thing!”

Rhett beamed. “Atta girl. Takin’ it like you were made to.” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “You wan’ do it by yourself or do ya need Daddy’s help?”

Your brow furrowed as you considered the ultimatum. “I wanna try to do it by myself first.”

He nodded, leaving a kiss to your knows. “Alright then, go ahead. Take what y’ need.”

You placed your hands on his big, broad shoulders and began to slowly move atop him, using your thighs to lift yourself off before sinking back down. Rhett’s own hands found purchase on your thighs, lovingly squeezing at the flesh, enjoying the feeling of you building your own rhythm. 

As you did so, he dipped his head forward again, mouthing at your breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, taking in every sensation you felt. 

The stretch of his cock inside you, the shock of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, the feeling of his hands, calloused from years of work, resting on your thighs. His presence was so big and manly, surrounding you entirely. You felt so safe, like nothing in the world could harm you. 

“Love you, Daddy,” you breathed as you began moving faster, focusing on the task at hand. Up, down, swivel your hips against his. A steady rhythm that you stayed with, periodically tightening around him as you did so. 

“Love you too, baby.”

Rhett watched you above him, his eyes shining like the stars. You were so beautiful like this, slipping into the throes of pleasure. He wished he could have this moment etched in gold and display it on the walls of his home. 

Your soft whimpers filled his head, swirling around like the smoke from his pipe. The sweetest music to his ears. He ran his hands along your body, as if committing the feel of your soft skin to memory. 

“So pretty like this, ain’t ya? Usin’ Daddy for your own pleasure.”

At that, you moaned, opening your eyes to gaze into his own. “Feels so good.”

“I know. I can feel you gettin’ wetter.”

And he could. Your arousal had begun to drip down against his balls, and you were so slick that you had to focus on being careful so you didn’t accidentally take him too deep and hurt yourself. 

But soon, your thighs began to burn, and you grew fatigued from doing all the work. You’d bitten off more than you could chew. You needed help. 

“C-can you take over, please?” You asked. 

“Already?” He cooed. “I thought for sure you’d last longer. You’re just a pathetic little thing, ain’t ya? Need Daddy’s help with everything.”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head and gazing at him with doe eyes. 

“Don’t worry. I gotcha.” His hands tightened around your hips, and suddenly, he was moving you up and down on his cock with his sheer strength. You gasped loudly, immediately falling forward against his strong chest as he did so. 

You felt every inch stretching you, splitting you open. Your mouth parted to let out your unabashed moans and whines, already so blissed out that you were drooling against his chest. 

He began shifting his hips up to meet yours each time he brought you down, jarring you as he fucked you fast and deep, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. 

But he didn’t let you get too used to that position, because it wasn’t long before he was suddenly pulling you off of him. You squeaked in protest, looking at him in confusion. 

“Want you on y’re hands and knees,” he gruffed. He slipped out from under you, and you watched his hard cock bob as he got up, glistening in the morning light. 

He had to arrange you how he saw fit, because you were too preoccupied staring at his dick. Then he was behind you, clutching your hip with one hand while the other aligned himself with your cunt. 

In one swift but careful thrust, he was back inside you, and you all but howled against the lounge chair. He lifted his hand to swat your ass, leaving a brief sting that was soothed by his gentle palm. 

Then that same hand rested on the small of your back as he pushed you all the way forward so your face was against the cushion. Then he began to roll his hips forward, and you whined at the feeling. This angle was so much more intense, and he felt even bigger somehow. 

“S’big, Daddy!”

“I know. Poor little pussy’s just stretchin’ so wide to take me. I don’t know, think I should pull out and make you take m’ fingers instead?” He pulled his hips back, and you gasped, immediately reaching back to grab at his arm. 

“No! I can take it, promise! I’m a big girl!”

“Are you? And here I was under the impression that y’ were just a little thing.”

“No! Please!” You begged. 

Then he thrust forward, and you let out a wail into the open air. Good thing no one could hear you back here. “Alright then. Wan’ you to lay there and take every last inch of Daddy’s dick.”

And you did. He fucked you hard and fast, and you clawed at the cushions for purchase, your mouth open, your eyes screwed shut. It felt like heaven, and you were certain you weren’t even on Earth in that moment. You were floating above yourself, watching your husband claim you as his. 

Again, drool spilled from your mouth, this time soaking the fabric of the cushion beneath you. You moaned and squealed and cried out, wonderfully blissed out. 

But all too soon, Rhett was switching positions again. He pulled out of you once more, and this time, you wailed. “Daddy, no!”

“Be fuckin’ patient,” he huffed as he turned you onto your back. “I’m gon’ give it back to you.” He shoved your knees up toward your chest, and then he was inside you again, stealing the breath from your lungs. 

This time, he pressed the weight of his body against you, keeping you grounded as he began fucking into you. A hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides, not to cut off airflow, but blood flow. Within seconds, your head was going woozy, and Rhett grinned down at you. 

“Filthy little slut. Bet you’d come right now just from my hand around your throat if I let ya.”

You would, because you’d done it before. However, that wasn’t his goal in that particular instance. He simply wanted to watch the way your body reacted to it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open, leaving you in this state of pure, unadulterated bliss. 

He felt you tighten around him, and he grunted, pushing his cock even deeper. Your hands clutched at his flexed forearm, nails digging into the skin, sure to leave marks. He growled and grunted above you like a goddamned animal, fucking you within an inch of your life, and you took it like the good girl you were. 

And then you felt it. The tip of his cock brushed something inside you that sent you into orbit. 

“That’s it. Look at’cha. Got your eyes rollin’ back in your fuckin’ head.” Then he grabbed one of your hands and brought it down to your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” 

All you could do was squeak in reply. 

“‘S Daddy’s cock inside ya.”

At that, you let out a deep keen, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. You sobbed and moaned and made all sorts of sounds that you might’ve otherwise been embarrassed about, but Rhett couldn’t get enough. 

Then his scruffy face was nuzzling into your neck, and his teeth were nipping at your pulse point, and you swore you were going to black out from the glorious intensity. 

“D-d-” was what came out of your mouth. He knew what you were trying to say. 

“What is it, huh darlin’? What’s my baby need?” Suddenly his fingers were at your aching clit, rubbing short, sharp circles, and you jolted against him like a live wire, pussy clamping around him. “Oh, that’s what you needed. Poor thing, Daddy was neglecting that sweet little clit. I’m sorry.” 

He kissed you, swallowing your cries as he pumped his hips in time with his fingers at your clit. That, paired with his free hand still around your throat, you knew you were a goner. 

“Go-gonna c-c-come! Please D-Daddy can I–”

But you didn’t even have to ask. “Come.” 

And you did. You tried to scream, but it died in your throat. Instead, your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rhett stayed close, his forehead pressed to yours as you fell apart around his pistoning cock. 

You were free-falling, plunged straight into the depths of an orgasm so fiery and all-consuming that you lost yourself to it. You were not of yourself. You were on an entirely different plane of existence, vibrating with crackling electricity, as if you were a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky. 

The molten heat surged through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And Rhett held you the entire time, your body trembling fiercely in his arms. 

It took some time to come back to yourself, and when you did, you found him gazing down at you, his eyes as clear blue as the sky above him. He let out a breathless laugh. “Hey there, darlin’. Welcome back to earth.” He’d slowed the movement of his hips just to let you recover. 

“I…wow,” was all you could say. 

“That was intense, huh?”

You nodded, your eyes watery. 

“You okay to keep goin’? Or do you need a break?”

“I-I think I’m…okay.”

But that didn’t convince him. “Look at Daddy.” You lifted your eyes to his gaze. “I need a for-sure answer. Can I keep goin’?”

“Yes,” you finally answered with confidence. “Wan’ you to keep going, please Daddy.”

He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good girl, that’s all I needed.” Then he kissed you before he leaned back, pushing your knees toward your chest again. 

And just like that, the switch was flipped, and he slipped right back into that harsh dominance, as if it was a well-fitted glove.  Suddenly he seemed so much bigger above you, and you felt tiny. It made your heart sing. 

Slowly, he began to move within you again, and you whined, closing your eyes at the delicious stretch. Rhett leaned back to admire the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole, and the creamy ring of your cum that now decorated the base of his cock. 

He reached down, swiping his fingers against the base and gathering your slick before he brought those same fingers to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. “Tastes so good, don’t it?” He murmured lowly, and you nodded in agreement, eyes wide and watery, gazing up at him with such trust and adoration. 

He leaned in to kiss you, tasting your cum on your lips. He stayed close, wrapping your legs around your waist and pressing his chest to yours. He began to fuck you deep and slow, rutting into you. This allowed you to feel every inch, every spasm, everything. 

He caged you in with his big strong arms, protecting you from the word. You were so safe. So secure. Rhett would protect you from all harm. 

“You mind if Daddy fills y’ up, baby?”

“Please,” came your whisper. 

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m close.”

With his mouth against yours, he began to pick up the pace again. Quick but deep thrusts, cock battering that spot inside you that made your toes curl. It was inevitable that you’d come once more before he did, just by the way he had you feeling. A steady pressure had begun to build deep within the core of your being, and eventually, it would have to be released. 

Then his fingers were at your sensitive clit again and you were mewling into his open mouth. Stars danced in your eyes, on your skin. You felt like you were part of a glittering galaxy. 

Your arms found their place around your husband’s shoulders, and you held tightly to him as he went a little faster, a little deeper. Building and building and building. And you were already growing closer by the second. You knew your end was almost upon you. 

“Daddy!”

“Go ahead.”

This time, when you came, it flooded from you, soaking Rhett’s cock, dripping down beneath you onto the lounge cushion. It was his turn to have his eyes roll back in his head, and he fucked you through it. 

“Fuck, got this pussy squirtin’ all over me,” he hissed, slipping out of you to run the tip of his cock rapidly over your clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you cry out. 

Just as you came down, he slid back into your still-spasming cunt, grunting at the tightness that surrounded him. He gripped your thighs in his strong grasp and his focus shifted to chasing his release. 

Beneath him you were so far gone that all you could do was lay there and take it, still writhing in bliss, silent, pleasured tears falling. Your head was swimming, you felt as if you were floating through time and space. 

“Look at me,” Rhett’s lilted baritone filled your fuzzy head, and you opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. “Gon’ fill your pretty pussy up. Want you to take it all like my good little darlin’.”

You nodded, eager to take his load. His movements quickened, hands clutching you tight as he thrust forward hard and fast. You held onto him to keep yourself grounded, body trembling, hovering on the brink of being too overstimulated to handle much more. 

And then, finally, you felt it. Rhett gasped, mouth falling open as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He kept his hips flush with yours, cock spasming within you, spilling the heat of his release into the deepest part of you. And you took it all gladly, body relaxing entirely at the feeling of him claiming you. You’d never tire of it. 

He gradually came down, his body falling limp above you, though he still kept himself from pressing his full body weight into you. His softening cock was still nestled inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to keep him there a little longer. 

“M’ good girl,” he cooed down at you. “Took that so well.”

You smiled dreamily up at him. You didn’t quite have the wherewithal to speak, but that was okay. He didn’t need you to speak. Gingerly, he moved to slip out of you, but you whined in protest, not wanting to part from him. 

“Y’ gotta let me go, honey. Can’t stay like this forever.”

“W-want you close,” you whispered. 

“I know, and you can have me. But I gotta get you cleaned up first. And it’s gettin’ hotter by the minute, I ain’t about to let my pretty little gal get heatstroke on my account.”

He kissed you sweetly as he pulled his hips back, shushing your cries. You hated the initial empty feeling, especially when you were feeling fragile like this. But Rhett was quick to soothe you. 

“Up ya go.” He lifted you to your feet, and you wobbled a little, still woozy. He secured a steady arm around you and guided you back into the house. 

It was much cooler inside, and it felt good on your heated skin. However, you hardly even registered what was taking place, you were still feeling floaty. But Rhett had it handled. 

He guided you upstairs, where he made sure you used the bathroom and took a quick shower just to rinse off. You didn’t have to make any of the decisions for yourself, because he did it for you, knowing you couldn’t handle trying to clean up by yourself. You needed this form of aftercare for your own well-being. 

A little while later, you were clean, and dressed in one of his old rodeo t-shirts. You felt a little more like yourself, albeit a little fuzzy. Rhett had just finished helping you put lotion on your legs, and he was smiling up at you from where he knelt on the floor. 

“I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that work,” he teased. 

You hummed sleepily. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How do some blueberry pancakes sound for my little darlin’?”

It was your turn to smile. “Sounds so good.”

“Alright then, let’s head on downstairs. You’re also gon’ drink yourself a nice glass of water while you’re waitin’ for your food. Ain’t gonna have you dehydratin’ on me.”

You hummed in agreement and allowed him to lead you out of the bedroom and back downstairs. He kissed the top of your head as you went, and you sighed happily, feeling at peace. 

You were led to the kitchen, where you sat at the round table and waited for your husband to prepare your breakfast. As promised, he slid a glass of water in front of you and encouraged you to drink it. You sipped on it as you watched him move about the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how good you had it. 

Spending the morning being fucked by the pool, and having breakfast made for you? The old you could never have imagined this would be the case. You were eternally grateful that life had given you a second chance and allowed this man to come to your rescue when you needed him most. 

You had faced a lot of adversity in your life, but now, it all seemed worth it, because it led you here. 

Rhett truly was your saving grace. The yin to your yang. The moon to your stars. He was your million dollar man, and you wouldn’t trade him, or his love, for anything else in the world. 

-

tagging those who might be interested (if you liked/reblogged any of my mdm promotional posts, i tagged you lol)

@eternallyvenus @up-thereinthesky @antiquitea @cdauni @coffeewithcal @rhettabbotts @combat-sixty-three @karma-is-my-girlfrined @blitchenslibrary @whoeverineedtobe @l-ynsdove @ravenmoore14 @virgo-wonder @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia @peachystenbrough @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @damrlova @randomfandomgirl97 @bobfloyds @beepitybeepboop @buckys-estrella @callsign-magnolia @sunblchdfly @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @creatchie8 @topgun-imagines @lovinglyeternal @bobfloydsbabe

[chlmtsdoll]

my suggestion could be i dont know if you seen this show called the l word before but there is a character named dana fairbanks and she RADIATES tashi duncan energy. so if you could maybe make a dana fairbanks inspired tashi duncan x reader or if you haven’t seen it i was thinking former model reader x tashi is a good one too 🤍

I’ve literally always wanted to watch the L word and I’m gonna have to start it soon bc I GET what you mean omg !!! And former model reader x Tashi hits my niche on the NOSE. This took me forever to publish bc I just had so many ideas I wanted to go with 😭 so I hope this is good !!! 🤍

IS IT A CRIME TO WANNA SHINE ?

✩ Pairing: Tashi Duncan x reader

✩ Word count: 3k

✩ Summary: your a wild and free it-girl, adjacent to a life going on to be an inspiring top model when you suddenly meet Tashi, you then start to crave even more

✩ Warnings: eventual smut !, gxg, age gap (reader early 20's) Tashi mid to late 30’s, failed!marriage Tashi, fingering, slight angst, spanking, cursing, degrading, pet names, needy reader, brief mentions of substances, Tashi went blonde after her divorce (blonde hair Z during the Challengers press tour)

Your life was casting calls, early (or late night) rehearsals & fittings, caffeine runs, flights back and forth around the country, and fashion show after fashion show, after party after after party..

You loved the career you were lucky enough to pursue, you had all the beauty, ideal body, and money. You’d been on top of the world but you were also twenty two and nearing burnout.

Your love life was non existent unless it was last minute hook ups, and you’d go home to a cold bed. Empty hearted and longing for someone to make it all change.

And it did change rather quickly when you met her.

“Um- excuse me, can I get by ?” You covered your eyes as lights and flashes blinded you. Trying your best to maneuver by meddling paparazzi, and your few body guards were barely any help. You were rising to the top but still hadn’t always been able to get the best protection which was essential for a young girl like you — even though to the outsiders it had seemed your life was so glamorous and beyond, even a dazzling starlet like you had struggles. It wasn’t always pretty.

You had finally been able to scurry to your limo and you were taken off fast to your next destination, an after party hidden for only the most relevant socialites and models in the industry. You’d known a few athletes and actors would have been there too since the club was well known yet anyone hardly got an invite.

Even you were declared lucky enough to be attending as you were still merely just an it-girl trying to find her place on the scale. When security tried to stop and ask you for verification because you looked far underaged, you rolled your eyes and dug through your thousand dollar Versace bag you did not pay for, to pull out your id.

Just a walk around, say hi to a couple known faces, and go home. We have an early rehearsal tomorrow.

You had a drill. The dozens of times you’d gone to these parties, you learned it was all a tactic,. simply being just work and networking for you — you were on a schedule. As much of a sex symbol your agents tried to present you as, deep down you’d still been this shy and reserved girl from your home tow, only difference is you just knew you had bigger places to be.

Lights low and music blaring throughout the place filled with bodies and people way too into their own self obsession to notice you after a while, all you wanted to do was have a smoke, maybe a drink. You’d known as big as the space was there had to be somewhere you could get away.

You headed upstairs to another area that was a bar as well, but much more relaxed. No club lights flashing and heels clashing against the marble floors by influencers hanging off their nearing the grave “boyfriends”.

But there had been one person sitting at the bar, and there had definitely been some interesting heels.

You’d seen the back of her excellent lean body. Almost in a way that was unreal. Legs had been slender and long, you had to double check if you’d been hallucinating at the sight of her.

She’d been wearing a full sparkling silver dress that had a pleated skirt with a few navy blue stripes lining it. It was preppy but in a glamorous and classy way.

Her skin tan and soft short blonde curls sat on her shoulders, it gave you a Marylin Monroe feel. And her heels — you’d never seen anything like them. They were Louboutins with tennis balls on the six inch heel ?

You took a breath as you examined her figure, stepping in the quieter room, you’d gone straight to the bartender as they asked your drink preference.

“Um, a gin and tonic please ?” you thanked the bartender before turning to peer at the woman a few feet from you, her hair draped over most of her face and all you could really see was her perfectly sculpted nose.

“Are those… tennis balls on your heels ?” You questioned softly, and the blonde had looked up at you, striking brown eyes searched your face under her lashes coated beautifully with mascara.

You had swallowed over a new lump in your throat at her gorgeous features. Never had you seen a woman so beautiful.

She’d look so familiar as well, you couldn’t tell if it was nolstagia, but you could of sworn you had posters of her on your walls when you were young- oh my god.

It’s Tashi Duncan.

The blonde highlights had thrown you a curb since you always remembered her with brown hair, but you remembered she had been much older since the days when she was every tennis girls idol in your eleventh year. Plus, you’d heard she’d gotten a divorce with her star tennis player husband, Art Donaldson.

Either way, fuck had the blonde complimented her eloquently. You’d been completely mesmerized by the way it framed her face.

“Oh these ? Yeah, they’re Loewe.” Her tone smooth as she looked down at the silky white shoes with a striking heel, neon green from the balls just tying it all together.

“I-I love them,” later you’d scorn yourself for stuttering like some starstruck fan. “Are you debuting in fashion week this year ? Not to be a bother but, you’re such a huge inspiration for women like me..you’re amazing.”

You shut your eyes quickly. You sounded way too juvenile. But Tashi had showcased a small flattered smile as she examined you face. You expected her to be unbothered and just walk away, after all you were merely just a dumb little model girl, frolicking around New York on a trust fund to her. She was a powerful and sophisticated woman who worked hard for everything she has. With all her shit together and much more life experience than you.

“No, I um.. I’m here for the fashion, but what to add to my company’s new roll out. I’m looking for models to campaign for me as well, but no luck so far. A lot of these girls all the same, and the designers they walk for pussy.” she spoke over her glass of vodka and your eyes glossed over with an immediate burn of yearning taking over your body.

You had forgotten that after Tashi stopped playing tennis from her infamous injury, but she hadn’t stopped there. She became one of the biggest business women in the industry, with her name tied to multiple brands. She was richer than your worth to be standing next her right now — but you were a strong believer in destiny. And being told she was looking for models to run for her brand,

She might as well say she’d been looking for you.

“Oh, that’s.. awesome. I’m walking in Milan for Vera Wang in a fortnight. But yeah, they make this all seem so serious but a lot of it is bullshit.” You thought if you threw in some pretty words she’d take you seriously. Coming from being in this industry since you were sixteen years old, you knew your way around selling yourself quick and sharply. In desperate hope she’d maybe let it run through her own to let you model for such a woman like herself. That you weren’t just one of those model girls.

“Lovely.” Tashi’s eyes graced over your tall slender body, you’d been so happy you went with a shorter Chanel dress and not the leather Prada pants you we’re pondering on. “You play tennis ? I know a lot of younger models love to think they’re all tennis players these days.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny laugh at her joke, but it had been true, you nodded over your glass of gin.

“Yeah, I play a little here and there with friends. But nothing like your upbringing, my god, I could never.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” Her eyes had narrowed but still sparked all the way, and she’d glanced at the way you licked your lips shorty. Your face heating up at the way her finger ran around the rim of her glass.

You couldn’t help but think about them sinking into your mouth.

Tashi took a breath to lean back against her chair, then she had leaned up to asked the bartender for a pen and napkin. When he brought it back to her, she had started scribbling on the paper, her slender fingers manicured with a nude color.

“If you ever want to model for me.” She handed you the napkin with her number and you’d feel like you had to stop breathing for a moment. Not even most high class brand deals had ever gotten you all flustered like this, but when it came to hot older women, you’d been like putty. You couldn’t deny it.

“Oh my god.. okay, okay I’d love to. I’ll contact you.” You had given her a girlish smile which you rarely ever did, it was all about resting bitch face, and to Tashi’s defense she had quite liked the lightness too you. The hope I’m your eyes that far too many girls your age had given up on already. She knew you had a spark.

In that moment, you had been already getting prepared for the dreams you’d have that night about being Tashi’s favorite and best model. When you said you wanted to be on top, you meant here.

And that was three years ago.

And not only had you become her best model, top seller in everything you wore, shown off on your angelic like body, making all your friends from your intern Jobs at Vogue envious with hate — that you’d eventually bump up even higher to becoming her girlfriend, but then that extended when you became the Tashi Duncan’s ex supermodel wife.

Now at the ripe age of twenty four, you’d no longer needed to run around to casting calls and auditions, nor even model unless either you desired too or you’d been offered to walk in fashion week.

You’d been promised a life of luxury. With Tashi by your side, letting you be her pride and joy that took her even farther to the next level. Your days had consisted of being a stay at home wife, going on yachts, accompanying her to photoshoots and work dinners, and you would even play tennis often in your free time with you and Tashi’s shared wealthy friends.

You had the life you’d always wanted in the palm of your hand, never did you honestly have to lift a finger. And definitely no thinking on your feet or wondering when the next spontaneous adventure would be really.

And as enticing as it all was, it could at times get a little mundane even for you.

“Make sure she arrives to her lessons on the dot. And I don’t want tv time running to late when practice is over.” you over heard Tashi on the phone with her mom whom was watching over her daughter Lily while the two of you took a quick work trip (flying to Europe.)

You’d been on Tashi’s private jet just about to take off in due time, and you watched as your wife sipped on a cup of Matcha by one of the window seats. Her light colored locks pulled up into a French roll, and some of her bangs hung over her lashes.

She wore a suit dress, white with fabric silky of the softest kind. The way she wore the blazer had her glowing tan skin on display. A true sight for sore eyes.

She was beautiful in every way, and not even your own overachiever mindset could still grasps the fact that she had been your wife overall.

“Okay. Love you too, bye.” Tashi hung up the phone and dropped it onto the table in front of her in a unbothered manner as she went right back to her laptop to check emails.

You, observant and always in witness of the life you two had altered together, watched her. Pondering by the cafe station that was stocked with dozens of different flavors from teas to lattes and all kinds of milks and creamers to choose from.

You’d always gone with almond.

“We have to stop in Florence. There’s a dress fitting you have to attend with Ralph Lauren for this seasons collab.” Tashi spoke to you in orderly to you as she hadn’t even looked up from her laptop screen to meet your eyes. She took a sip from her cup and went right back to typing, you had scoffed and shook your head a bit as you pushed away the container of sugar in your hands,

Leaning against the counter, you remembered when you’d been in your honeymoon phase with the woman you loved most. Happily traveling across the country with her full attention on you. You missed that rush.

You missed her.

“Oh..” you trailed on, voice reluctant as you looked down at your cup, dark black tea. You didn’t even need to look because now you’d known Tashi’s eyes had found your figure from just a few Louis Vuitton sit cases away.

“Yeah ? What’s up ?” Her voice was light although you knew she had picked up on your distance. Now giving you full attention of whatever you had been disproving of from just the sound of your voice.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment at your puzzled expression, finger tips hover the rim of her mug.

“I just thought we’d get Dior this season.” Is all you said. Standing up straighter and looking at the woman who nodded.

“Well, they haven’t decided on if we can or can’t do a campaign this year, it’s been a couple of years we’ve been trying. You know that.” Tashi answered as she let her mug down and you’d known the slight annoyance in her voice all too well. You bit your lip a little in thought.

“I just thought this would be the year. I want Dior, I want to work with them this season.”

Tashi looked at you with a blank expression, trying not to play this game she’d known you’d been treading on for a while now, and you tried not to break a grin at her switch in demeanor to your obvious attempt to make her get unpleasant with you.

“Are you being ungrateful ?”

“No.”

“You’re acting like it.”

“I want a say in what I wear, who I walk for.” You had addressed her more sternly and it was a small moment that had passed before Tashi got up from where she was sitting, to trot over to you calmly.

But that wasn’t so when her hand came up to you sharp, bringing slight pain when she grabbed your chin in her grasp so you could look her eye to eye.

“You don’t wanna do it. Don’t do it. But you can leave.”

Your eyes went to her unsympathetic expression quick, and you tried not to whine at her hold on you.

“You can always leave because I don’t think it runs through that pretty little head of yours that I didn’t get divorced and remarried just to repeat the same shit I did with him. You think this is some fucking charity ?”

You fell back on forming a response when the glint in Tashis eyes as she narrowed at you had, scared you much more than you intended — yet at the same time you couldn’t look away as she got in your face.

“I give you everything. Life, a career, a voice. Let you choose your own hours and let you become of whatever you want while you whine and complain in jewelry that cost more than most people’s rent. And you want what ?” Tashi furrowed her eyebrow as she had grow repugnant of you, which you couldn’t help but love.

“Don’t forget I was your boss first. And I always will be.” Her tone has gone darker as she peers at you, your eyes wide with craving and you’d be lying if you said your core hadn’t become soaking wet when her sent of oak and raspberries was almost suffocating you now.

You’d shown her a soft grin on your lips, signaling you couldn’t have wanted her more right then, she wet her lips intermittently. Tashi turned you around with force and pushed your lower back onto the counter that was embarking you,

“Is this what you want ?” The woman croaked hungrily over your ear as she pushed on your slender body to bend over for her,

“Yes,” you let out a breathe of satisfaction finally.

panting softly as her hands explored your shape and your eyebrows knitted in exhausting bliss when her palm had came down hard on your now exposed ass.

Tashi kissed the space between your neck and shoulders briefly as she whispered,

“You’ve always been an attention whore.”

You couldn’t help but smile as she pulled on your hair to lean up and her fingers graced your heat, wet and pulsing for her. Tashi had hesitated before dipping them into you and you let out a pleading moan, face against the cold marble counter top.

You clawed at something to grab at as her digits pumped you slow than gradually faster, other hand grasping at your waist to seize you because she knew you’d come quick.

And you did with half a cry and half whimper.

You only had a second to catch your breath before Tashi pulled you up straight. She had gently placed your skirt back over your thighs, fixing your presence back to how she found you. Your wife then hovered over your lips,

“Behave.” Was the last thing she said to you without even an apologetic kiss before walking back to her lap top like nothing. You had gone back to your tea and with a pleased simper on your lips indeed.

You were a wild card that would do whatever to be under Tashi’s control, have her notice, and with that she’d known that you’d now be her perfect little model the moment you two would land this evening.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 5

Hello hello! After a bit of a delay I am very happy to present you with part 5 of Home Sweet Home! This chapter we get to see William and Reader's first date, super cute, super fluffy, I've been dealing with a lot of emotions so a lot of gentle reassuring William about readers self doubts. I hope you guys enjoy, if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: None

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 4,913

Part 4 - Part 6

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You stretched with a soft sigh, your feet sliding against the cool, soft sheets. A smile spreads across your face at the feeling of William’s arm slung over your waist. Your eyes fluttered open, a thin slit of light through your heavy curtains the only indicator that it was morning. You roll over, your hand trailing over his stomach as you cuddle into his chest. He lets out a soft hum as he wakes up, “good morning beautiful.” His voice raspy and thick with sleep.

“Sorry I didn't mean to wake you up.” You whisper, placing a soft kiss to his chest.

“Why are you apologizing? I get woken up to the most beautiful sight in the world.” He tilts your chin up, his lips capturing yours in a slow, needy kiss. His hand kneads at your waist, you smile as his mustache tickles your nose.

“What's the plan for today?” He rolls into his back with a groan, pulling you on top of him in the process. You lay your chin on his chest, bright, sparkling eyes staring up at him. He smiles softly, tucking some loose hair behind your ear.

“Well,” he starts, “we need to go to the store, we’ll try to make it quick but we have nothing.” You both share a chuckle. “And then we come back here and work our butts off until dinner.”

“And see you be all sexy and strong lifting those heavy boxes again? Yes please.” You grin at him, yelping as he lightly pinches your butt.

“You always have your mind in the gutter, don't you?” He teases back. “I'm surprised you can still even consider me sexy.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” You reach up to gently caress his cheek, he lets out a soft sigh as he leans into your touch. “You're not allowed to be mean to my husband, I'll have to beat you up.” He chuckles at your serious expression.

“I'm an old man now, rabbit.” He responds wistfully, combing his fingers through your hair as he studies your face. “I'm definitely not the rugged, muscular little punk I used to be.” He chuckles and you can't help but breathe out a laugh in response. Remembering all the photos of a much skinnier more awkward reflection of your husband that Henry had shown you. ‘The pride and joy of our robotics team.’ he would always muse, struggling not to get emotional over the loving expression you had while looking at them. “I've got all these wrinkles now, my hair’s going gray-”

“William,” he snaps his mouth shut at the sound of your voice. Your age difference was something that had eaten at him since the two of you had first started dating. Always worried he was going to move too fast or make you feel tied down. He never could quite wrap his head around how a pretty young thing like you could stand being around a miserable old fart like him. “It wouldn't matter if you were 20 years younger and were built like some sort of Greek God.” You shuffle around under the blankets, allowing you to push yourself up enough to be face to face with him, the tip of your nose brushing his as you talk. “I wouldn't give up any of the time you and I have spent together for anything. Will, I love you. A few wrinkles and a change in your hair color isn't going to change any of that.”

“So, you don't mind that I don't have shredded abs?” He jokes, making you laugh in response. Despite the sudden loss of seriousness you could tell your words helped.

“Abs are overrated,” you shoo off the thought with your hand. “I happen to love your soft tummy.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Well I'm glad.” He pulls you in for a soft kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He mumbles against your lips.

“You're one to talk.” You quip back. He smiles before pulling you back to him. You hum as you feel his arm tighten around your waist, wanting to feel every curve of your body pressed firmly to his. The way William’s lips moved against yours was slow and methodical, he always knew how to kiss you in a way that left you feeling utterly breathless and dizzy by the end of it. You rest your forehead against his when you separate. Both of you shared soft, tired smiles as you enjoyed being in each other's company. He reaches over to his nightstand with a groan, wiping his hand down his face before putting on his glasses.

“What do you say sweetheart? Ready to start the day?” You nod, both of you reluctantly leaving the warmth of your bed and each other's arms as you got ready to tackle whatever obstacles you would face.

You stood at William’s side, trying to manage your wild bed head as he brushed his teeth. “What do you want for dinner?” He asks with a mouthful of toothpaste.

“I don't know, something easy.” You wince slightly as your brush gets caught on a particularly nasty snarl. “We could always get something frozen to throw in the oven I guess.”

“Absolutely not, I won't let my wife eat that filth if I can help it.” He places a kiss on your head as he heads out of the bathroom. You chuckle, shaking your head in response. “Think about it, I'm gonna go start the car.” He disappears around the door with a wink. You groaned at his request, you hated making food decisions. You threw on some clothes, deeming your appearance good enough for the grocery store, before heading downstairs. William stood at your kitchen counter, holding an old recipe book that looked almost comically small in his massive hands.

“Whatcha got there?” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“I saw this in your box of memories yesterday.” He smiles down at you, lowering the book in order to make it easier for you to read it. You looked at the worn, yellowing pages with a special fondness. This was the one cookbook William owned, a collection of recipes put together by a group of little old ladies around Hurricane. One of them managed to pass it off to him at their grandson’s birthday years ago, saying how a hard working man like him deserved some good home cooked meals every now and then. You ran your fingers over your husband’s handwriting in the margins next to one recipe ‘add garlic’. On the next page there was a recipe for chocolate cake, next to it in your own neat script it read ‘Will’s favorite' punctuated with a heart.

“Is this the one that has-”

“The recipe from our first date.” You finish in unison.

“Yes it is.” He chuckles. You remembered it like it was yesterday. The whole morning went horribly before you were supposed to spend the day with Will, you were about ready to call him to reschedule. “I think we both could use some comfort food tonight, what do you think?”

“I think that sounds wonderful.” You jump slightly as he snaps the cookbook shut in front of your face, you push him playfully before the two of you head out.

Will’s hand was warm as he held your own, his thumb languidly rubbing over your knuckles as he drove. Your eyes trailed over the treeline as it whipped past your window, smiling softly to yourself as you reminisced about how something as small and silly as beef stew could hold such a powerful memory.

You tried your best to quiet your sniffling as you listened to the phone ring, your heart jumping into your throat when you heard the click of the receiver being picked up. “Hello?” You felt yourself begin to well up all over again at the sound of his voice.

“Hey William, it’s-uh, it’s me.” You hoped he would be able to recognize your voice despite it cracking. “I think I'm going to need to reschedule-”

“Honey what's wrong?” The genuine concern in his voice opened the floodgates. A sob cracked free from your throat as you tried to explain the situation. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No.” You manage to croak out.

“Can I come see you?” You froze for a moment. He wasn't mad about you canceling at the last minute, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

“Yeah, that's fine.” You stutter.

“I'll be there in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You nod before remembering he couldn't see you. You rolled your eyes over how ridiculous you were being.

“Okay, I'll be here.” You sniffle before hanging up. You jumped as your buzzer rang, picking yourself up to the couch and slowly shuffling over to unlock the door. You undid the chain latch, meeting William in the hallway.

“Rabbit,” he starts softly. Seeing your cheeks still red and streaked with tears from another wave of crying that had hit you when he was on his way over. “Come here beautiful.” You hurried forward, melting into his embrace as he wrapped his strong arms around you. His fingers gently slide into your hair, cradling your head against his chest. You felt stupid for crying, you were supposed to be going out on this big, fancy date William had set up and now you've ruined it.

“I'm sorry.” You manage to get out after you have calmed yourself down somewhat. “You went through all the trouble of getting us that reservation-” he cuts you off, quietly shushing you as he continues to hold you, slightly rocking side to side.

“It’s okay bunny. It's not like we’re going to get banned from the restaurant for canceling our table.” He chuckles, managing to elicit a soft laugh from you as well. “But, I would like to know what's making my girl so upset.” He nods in the direction of your apartment. “Would it be alright if I came in for a minute?” You nod, his hand instantly taking yours as you separated from his embrace.

“I'm sorry about the mess, this morning definitely didn't go as planned.” He looked around the cramped space. The flowers William had sent you lay on the kitchen counter, the stems still glistening with water. A half cleaned up pile of broken glass lay on the floor next to the counter. He noticed a white dress that appeared to be covered in some type of tomato sauce laying in a heap on the dining room table. You started to explain before he even had a chance to question it. “My roommate got into a big fight with her boyfriend this morning.” William sat next to you where you had positioned yourself on the couch, elbows resting on his knees and his hands folded neatly in front of him as he listened attentively to what you had to say. “I was woken up by them yelling at each other, I heard some glass smash so I came out here to try and diffuse the situation. It turns out he had smashed the vace I had put your flowers in onto the floor.” You let out a weak chuckle as you felt a tear slip down your cheek. William reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours in an attempt to offer some form of comfort without risking overwhelming you further. “And my-uh, my dress…” you looked over at the table, your throat growing tight at the sight. “He also ruined my dress in the process of us throwing him out. So now I have nothing to wear, and the flowers you got me are starting to wilt, and I ruined our date-”

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You didn't ruin anything.” He moves closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. “There’s going to be plenty of other fancy dinners. Baby, I'm not upset over you not wanting to go out after the morning you've had.” He places a kiss on the top of your head, his thumb soothingly rubbing your shoulder. “Would you like to come spend the day at my place?” He asks in an almost timid manner. You look up at him, eyes still wet with tears. It made his chest tighten, you looked so small against his much larger form.

“I'd like that.” You smile.

“You go get ready, I'll clean up in here.” He offers with a small nod.

“Oh, I can't ask you to do that.” Your breath catches in your throat as he gently tilts your chin up with his fingers.

“Don't worry about it bunny.” He tucks some hair behind your ear. He nods for you to go get ready. You scurry off to your room, William cleaning up the glass on the floor. He searched through your cupboards, finding a suitable enough vessel to hold the flowers you seemed to love. He smiles at how adorable you were, getting upset over something so simple, it was sweet. His attention turned to the dress on the table, making an irritated sound as he picked it up. It wasn't a guarantee he would be able to get the sauce out, but hand washing it in the sink couldn't hurt. He thought about how pretty you would've looked all dressed up. Though somehow he thinks your new plan would end up being more fun.

You hurriedly looked through your closet for something to wear, not wanting to appear like you were trying too hard to impress him. You decided on a cute pair of jeans and your favorite T-shirt. You passed back out into the kitchen, smiling as you saw the large man hunched over your sink, trying to get the stain out of your dress. “Will?” He paused, a smile creeping across his features. This was the first time you had called him Will.

“I got it mostly out, we can throw it in the wash at my place if you want.” You nod, smiling at him adoringly.

“I wouldn't want to trouble you.” You start.

“It's no problem.” He rushes to reassure you. He slowly steps closer to you, almost as if he was worried he was going to scare you off. “You, uh, look like you’re going to cry again.”

“You’re just really nice, that’s all.” You crack out a laugh, William chuckling alongside you.

“Well, I’d like to be able to take care of my girl when she needs me.” He winks, making your cheeks flush. He holds out his arm for you to take, you smile softly as he pulls you into his side.

William opened the door, letting you step inside before him. You neatly tucked your shoes beside the door before padding across the soft gray carpet. Looking around you would definitely define William as a minimalist. You didn’t see any pictures or trinkets, everything was very neat and orderly. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to go start something for dinner.” You ended up trailing after him into the kitchen, wanting to spend as much time with him as you could. He unzips his hoodie, tossing it at you with a flirtatious smile. “You look cold.” You slip your arms into the too long sleeves, blushing slightly as you wrap yourself up in the warm fabric. William’s sweatshirt smelled like machine oil, cheap cigarettes, and musky, warm cologne. He pulled out a large wooden cutting board from one of the drawers, brandishing a pristinely sharp knife not long after. He hums softly to himself as he wanders around his kitchen, pulling ingredients from cupboards and setting them all out in a row on the counter top. He pulls out a large stew pot from a small closet, setting it on the stove as he sets in motion preparing the meal he had decided on.

“Do you want any help?” You offer with a smile.

“You just sit back and relax, bunny. Throwing this together shouldn’t take me too long.” The two of you chatted idly as he cooked. You had always enjoyed William’s dry humor, but this was the first time you had seen his full genuine personality outside of Freddy’s.

“You’re a gossip!” You exclaim your accusation through a fit of laughter. He gives you an offended look, his hand clapping against his chest.

“Me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You couldn’t miss the smirk that passed across his lips as he turned his attention back to the cutting board. “You’re acting like I don’t know about your and Ashley’s little gossip sessions at the prize counter.” He rebuttals in a teasing tone. He straightens up, striding over to you. He puts a hand on either side of your thighs, caging you on the counter, “I bet you talk about me, don’t you?” He gives you a wink and a lopsided smile. Your cheeks immediately heated up as you thought about how much his name actually came up between the two of you. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before moving away. He glances up at you as he slides a cutting board of carrots into the large pot at his side. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to relax.” He remarks happily.

“You promise you’re not mad about having to cancel the reservation?” You ask nervously, balling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt in your hands.

“I’m happy just spending time with you.” A small smile creeps across your lips at the sincerity in his voice. “You had a bad morning, I wouldn’t want to go out either.” He reaches out for your hand, you accept his request with a flustered grin. “Plan’s can change, okay? I won’t be upset.” He tries his best to reassure you.

It was a rainy day outside, the stew was left to cook on the stove. Will held your hand loosely in his, giving it a gentle squeeze whenever he reached a point of interest when he was talking about one of his newest projects. He leads you into his workshop, keeping you close to him as he guides you around various piles of mechanical parts. His hands find their way to your waist, easily lifting you from the floor to set you on a clear space of workbench. He bumps a button with his elbow, the garage opening to let in some of the warm, damp air from outside. “Mr. Emily was right about you being a workaholic.” You tease.

“It’s not my fault there's always work to be done.” He bites the tip of his tongue as he concentrates on what he had pulled in front of him, you noticed the glint of something silver catching on his front teeth.

“Will… is that a piercing?” You ask with genuine curiosity. His eyes widened slightly for a second before he cursed under his breath.

“I forgot I had that in.” He admits bashfully. “I got it in college, I just got so used to wearing it I never let it close.” You hop down from your position perched on the workbench, placing yourself directly in front of him.

“Show me.” You nod up at him. He raises an eyebrow and smirks slightly at your demanding town. He stoops lower, bringing himself face to face with you.

“I don’t know,” he purrs, “you didn’t ask very nicely.” You swallow thickly at his gravelly tone.

“Show me, please?” You try again. He chuckles at your flustered appearance before sticking out his long tongue, showing off the silver barbell. “Wow.” You found yourself nearly drooling at the sight of it, something about the small piercing made your heart race in your chest. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that William was a very attractive man, with his sharp features and broad, strong body he's drawn the attention of many wandering eyes. But, this new found detail about him only seemed to highlight the tough yet playful attitude you had grown enamored by.

“Maybe if you're good I'll show you how talented I am at putting it to good use.” He winks with a smirk. “Come on, this stuff can wait.” He places a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist as you're escorted back inside of the house. It hadn't occurred to you just how much of Will’s day you had disrupted up until now. He was supposed to come pick you up at six o'clock sharp, glancing at a clock that ticked quietly on the wall you had realized it wasn’t even eleven.

“Will, I don't want to get in your way if you're busy.” You speak up, both of you pausing in unison.

“Bunny, let me tell you something.” He fully turns to face you, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. His dark silver eyes held a particular softness as they scanned over your features, his hands sliding around your back to pull you closer to him. He speaks in a low tone, giving the conversation a new found sense of intimacy. “I'm in no rush to get that work done, and if I'm being entirely honest if you left right now I wouldn't be able to get the image of how cute you look in my sweatshirt out of my head all day.” He breathes out a laugh. “I know you're worried about being a disruption but honey I promise you you're not. I want to spend time with you, I want to be there to make you feel better. If that means pushing off a couple projects to cook a homemade meal and to spend the day with you… we'll, I don't know about you but that sounds pretty alright to me.” He smiles softly at you, giving you time to allow his words to sink in.

You couldn't get over just how different he was than anyone you had been with in the past. There was no yelling because of the wasted effort, no being left alone to wallow in how awful you felt about messing everything up. Right now there was only you and William; how warm his large hands felt as he soothingly rubs his thumbs over your waist, how the smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen drifted through the hall, how he looked at you with so much kindness and understanding, and that was plenty. You pushed into him, burying your face against his chest as you welled up with emotion. William held you tightly against him, determined to brush away any negative thoughts that tried to creep their way in from the back of your mind. He had a pretty good idea of the guys you had experienced before him, the shithead he had met before he confessed to you said enough. You were used to being pushed around and treated like you were never enough, leaving you to feel like you were always taking up too much space and anything that went wrong immediately fell into your lap. William hoped that, given enough time, he would be able to help you remedy that way of thinking. “How about we throw on a movie? It's Saturday, there's bound to be something on.” He offers in a patient tone.

“I'd like that.” You sniffle in response. You slip your hand into his, allowing him to guide you to the living room. He pulled you into his side as he clicks on the TV, absentmindedly flicking through the station past re-runs of whatever shitty sitcom happened to be on and action movies that would definitely ruin the quiet intimacy the two of you had fallen into. He paused on a romantic comedy, looking down to gauge your reaction. You adjusted yourself in order to be more comfortable, your arm resting across Will’s stomach as your head fell against his shoulder. He was praying you wouldn't ask him anything about the movie he had thrown on, he wouldn't have been able to focus on it right now if he tried. Your small form was so warm against his side, the sweet scent of your shampoo was nearly intoxicating as he waited for you to get comfortable. He pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch, laying it over both of your laps.

“Will?” You call for him softly.

“Yes, rabbit?” His eyes drift down to you and the sight alone was enough to nearly break him. You looked so incredibly tiny curled up against him, your big doe eyes holding so much adoration as you gazed up at him. William froze, feeling as if he even breathed in this moment it would be over.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.” His heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the sight of your sweet smile. You slowly and carefully pushed yourself upwards, your lips pressing against his scruffy cheek.

“Of course, bunny.” He smiles, eyes dropping to your lips for a brief moment before he shook the thought from his mind. Today was about making sure you were alright, kissing you should be the furthest thing from his mind right now. Unfortunately for him, it was all he was able to think about since the two of you had started seeing each other. He hadn't kissed you since the night of his confession, worried that he would take things too quickly without realizing it. He jumped slightly as the timer on the stove started to beep. “I'll be right back.” He places a kiss to your forehead before getting up. Once he enters the kitchen, out of your line of sight, he drags a hand down his face with a soft groan. “Get a hold of yourself.” He chastises himself quietly.

You remained curled up on the sofa, smiling to yourself as you ran your fingers over the soft material of the blanket William had draped over your legs. You glanced back at the kitchen before turning back to the TV with a soft sigh. There was something about being with William that was so undeniably effortless; the way he pulled you into his arms, your body molding to his like you were always made to be pressed against one another, the softness in his voice that was reserved just for you, how the smell of his cologne calmed your ever racing mind. Your fingers drifted to your bottom lip, breathing out a laugh as you thought about your first kiss. It felt like a lifetime since then, your mind often wandering to the memory, leaving your heart racing and your cheeks flushed. You knew William wanted to take things slow, he was very concerned about you feeling pressured to do things you weren't comfortable with just because he was older. Even though you constantly reassured him that wasn't the case he still seemed to treat you as if you were made of glass. You heard the soft clinking of him grabbing soup mugs from a cabinet, your feet thudding softly against the hardwood floor as you stood from the couch. You sucked in a deep breath as you nervously made your way towards the kitchen, thumb running over the worn fabric of your boyfriend’s sweatshirt. William stood at the stove, humming softly to himself as he added the finishing touches on the dinner he prepared. You swallowed thickly as you watched his muscles shift underneath his fitted black T-shirt. “Will?” You continued to walk forward as you called his name, knowing if you stopped now you would lose your nerve. He turns to face you, his silver eyes catching yours. His arms opened to greet you the moment he realized how close you already were, your hands slid over his shoulders as his landed on your waist. You pushed yourself up on your toes, guiding his lips down to meet yours. He lets out a surprised yet pleased sound, melting into you as he kisses you back. You both pulled back, breathless and wide eyed. He swore every time he looked at you he found something new to fall in love with. The blush that dominated your cheeks from doing something so bold, how small you looked wrapped up in his sweatshirt, he hoped he would be able to keep the memory of you looking like this forever.

“Will?” He’s jolted back to the present by you nudging his shoulder. “Everything alright, baby? You spaced out.” He looked down at you now by his side. Your soft smile and twinkling eyes are still as captivating as they always have been.

“Yeah bunny, I'm alright. Just thinking about our first date.” He smiles. The two of you stood in your kitchen preparing the ingredients for the stew, the sound of you singing along to the radio a learned comfort to William’s ears. He still couldn't wrap his head around why you chose him of all people, his gruff and dry demeanor was a sharp contrast to your bubbly personality. Yet, despite how difficult he knew he could be sometimes, your love for one another never waivered. It took him a long time to be able to provide for you the way he felt you deserved, lots of late nights at the pizzeria and sacrifice were needed to get to where the two of you are now. But, through every rough patch, every struggle that would have seemed insurmountable on his own, it only solidified one thing.

You loved each other.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda (if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!)

[hanihazeljade]

Tim the Drag Queen

Tim, contrary to the popular belief, has a lot of time to himself. He has a a schedule and he tried to fill his schedule with all possible thing, because or else he will overthink and he hates overthinking.

CW: Crossdressing

6:00 - wake up

6:10 - quick shower

6:20 - morning skin routine

6:35 - breakfast

7:00 - morning paper

7:30 - quick cardio

8:15 - dressed up

8:30 - go to WE

9:00 - meet Tam

1:00 - lunch

2:30 - paperworks

5:00 - go home

5:30 - dinner

6:00 - nap

9:00 - case reading

11:00 - patrol

2:00 - clean up/ night skin care routine

2:30 - sleep

Now imagine that if he got a monthly benched for a week because he just don't come at manor and everyone likes to think that he is not taking care of himself.

Like hmm???

He is pretty sure that he is the most healthy person in that place. He is the only one that has a skin care routine, eats proper diet and have a 9-5 job!

Well he doesn't have any thing to do to fill out of his 21:00 to 2:00. Sometimes he just wants to put Bruce between two bread and call him an idiot sandwich. But he won't do that because he is a good person.

But he found a such a beautiful little thing. So every time he got his monthly benched, the Fridays he go to the Metropolis clubs as a beautiful drag queen.

Yes, drag queen. Being a drag queen makes him feels so pretty, sure he got a little bit annoyed and irritated about the Caroline Hill, but when he got up to be such a self-centred attention-seeking Donna Bella, a drag queen with a thing with royalty, finesse and chaos but in an elegant way, he feels so powerful.

Being in drag means gaves him anonymity and he just looooove the attention everyone gave him. It heals his inner child in some sort of ways. Being so chaotic and no one will ever say anything about him, it such a fresh air to him ever since he was a kid, everything he does just gained nothing but judgement.

With his sharp pure red madness of eye makeup with a black contour, the bloody crimson hair, his tight bodysuit and lace stockings and his 8 inch platform heels, he feels unstoppable and on the top of the world. No one can find his safe little haven here.

He does his show like a proud queen that he is, he does splits, backbending, backflips, voguing and more. He did it like it was his last show. No regrets.

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny!!! if the bakery isn’t too busy, maybe i could get some sausage rolls with a side of cider for me and my bf John Price :D

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there is all kinds of stuff to pick from!! as for this lovely person, thank you for the submission! i am so happy that you picked john price, i love him. he is my sweet big bear and i want him to smother me with his biceps <3333. thank you for ordering!

sausage rolls ("i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt.") + cider (body worship) served by capt. john price (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, body worship, age gap (20s/40s), older!price, size kink & difference, outdoor sex, fuckin' on a plastic lawn chair, husband!price, naked reader/clothed price

"baby girl." he said, his voice a low drawl as he leaned back in the plastic chair in the back garden.

you looked over after tending to the tomato plants by the fence. you were bent over to look at the soil, with your gardening gloves on and big floppy hat to keep the sun off your face. you smiled, "yes, honey!"

he took a sip of his beer and shifted in his seat a little, "c'mere."

you raised your eyebrows, "c'mere? why don't you come here, since you're just sitting there."

price chuckled and said, "please, baby girl. i'm just so comfy right now."

you chuckled, "comfy? on that plastic chair? sure.' you took off the gloves and walked towards him. you felt price's eyes linger across you form. your husband's gaze made you hot all over.

he took another sip of his beer and said, "you're the most beautiful thing out here." he smiled against the rim of the beer bottle. he loved the sight of you now perched on his knee. he drank in your beauty.

you were in shorts and a t-shirt that price kept in the back of the closet, from his early days in the military. one of his large hands came and pushed up the shirt a little, exposing your body to him.

he licked his lips, "always so beautiful." he chuckled before you leaned in for a gentle kiss on his lips. he shifted a little more in his seat as he got his hand onto the button of shorts you wore. once that was undone, his hand dipped in between your legs and rubbed against your panty-clad cunt. he groaned a little against your skin, "someone feels good, huh beautiful?"

you said, "please, john. we were supposed to be gardening."

he chuckled, "the plants will be there when we're done. so why doesn't my beautiful wife get undressed and let me see all it." he licked his lips once more.

you took off your top and price's large hands palmed at your breasts. you squirmed a little bit and felt the stutter in your pulse. your husband's grasp on you made you feel warm all over.

price grabbed at your thighs to get your shorts off of you, and you squirmed in his lap to get them off along with your panties. price then took the motion to take off your bra as well, leaving you naked in the private backyard you had.

the high fences would keep from any prying eyes on your love making. price held you by one hip as with his other hand he got his cock out of his basketball shorts.

he looked hot in the grey pair and a tight white t-shirt. and only the sight of his cock made you more aroused. and then when he placed you onto his cock and leaned back into the lawn chair for you to work on his length.

"oh you're beautiful." he purred. his smile large as he held onto you soft hips, "so beautiful." he ran his hands up and down, "i'm the luckiest man in the world because i get to sink my cock into this every night. you playfully smacked his chest and he laughed, "i'm jokin', baby girl. i love you."

"i love you too, honey." you replied as you tried to meet his thrusts as the two of you made love in your backyard.

it was the god's honest truth. you loved him, he made you feel warm all over and deeply loved. his affection for you was not limited to physical intimacy. you heard and felt how he worshiped your body, that you were the highest creation ever made. more beautiful than roses, and sweeter than honey.

you moved up and down price's cock and took his face in your hands once more. the two of you began to kiss softly, his hands continued to roam your curves.

"my beautiful wife."

you giggled, "i'm not that beautiful."

he rested his hands on your hips and moved up against your pussy. the drooling head pressed against your cervix. price was a big man all over, and he made you feel good. he looked into your eyes and said, "i'm not lyin', love. you are the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. everythin' about ya drives me crazy."

you moaned a little louder and he basked in the feeling of you. you held onto his shoulders tightly, feeling the well loved t-shirt under your fingertips as you continued to move against him even more.

price continued to meet your pace, he felt the rush through his body. you were just so perfect for him. he loved you, you had captured his whole heart. and he'd love you forever.

"mmm, john." you panted.

he replied in that gruff voice, "i know, baby girl. i love you too. always and forever." he panted heavily.

you held onto him tightly, your breasts in his face to get the best angle. you arched your back a little bit and let out a loud moan. you came around your husband's cock

price bit gently into the flesh of your breasts, bruising it all up.

you panted wildly, knowing your husband was close too. you raked your nails across his shoulders, "fuck, price."

he finished inside of his sweet beloved with ease. he could feel at rest knowing that he made you both feel good. he held onto your hips and helped you into a different position so you didn't slip off the chair by your knees.

he panted a little bit before he took your face in his hands. he then pulled you in for a hot kiss that made a shudder run through you. when he parted the kiss soon after he said, "why don't we get ya dressed and inside. i don't want you to get a sunburn." then kissed the apple of your cheek.

price's other hand groped your ass and you giggled. the feeling was euphoric, your husband's touch was like a current. he'd help you put your clothes on, he'd even help you tend the garden after with his cum running down your leg <3

[yelenasdiary]

Forbidden || Meet The Characters - Natasha Romanoff

No Warnings | 0.6K

Forbidden Masterlist

Hi there! I'm Natasha, Yelena's older sister. I have a place in Drybellow where I run an orphanage for young girls. I'm sure Yelena has told a little of our back story and why I have this orphanage, so I won't bother you with more details on that. 

I house 16 girls from ages 6 to 20. These girls have nowhere else to go, these are girls who have run away, girls in trouble and girls who's parents couldn't look after. I do my best; I have a small background on basic medicine, so I am able to treat them correctly when they need it. I educate them and teach them things a woman in this world should know. I'd do anything and everything for them. 

We all live together on some land, well, you'd probably call it a small ranch. We grow our own fruits and vegetables, and we have some animals. Everybody helps out and has their own chores to do before they go off and do their own thing. I don't like to make them feel like they need to work to keep a bed here, when they are ready, I help them find a job and a new home to stay at. Most girls will write and give me updates on their new chapter of life and others like to come back for a visit. 

Some of the older girls and I like to knit things like blankets and clothing for new-borns, that's one of the ways we make some money to help keep this place running. Gardening is also something we all do, the younger girls love planting anything they can find so our home is full of orange, yellow, red, and purple plants. I like to try and keep the younger ones more entertained, long walks around the small, wooded area near the ranch, walks along the coastline, painting when we get some supplies, playing in the mud, enjoying their freedom and letting to be children is important to me. 

Every single girl that comes into my care will leave with the skills they need to care for themselves, look out for themselves and make something wonderful of themselves. But enough about that, I'm sure I've just bored you with all that information. 

As for me, I like doing many things. I do a lot of reading, mostly books that teach you something. Cooking, I love to cook! I've taught the girls how to fish and sometimes when the girls go on a walk, they'll bring back a dead rabbit for me to cook. When my days aren't spent looking after the girls, I'm usually trying to keep track of where Yelena is! We have a system; she is to write to me when she's off catching outlaws and if she doesn't, I'll go looking for her. That's if I don't hear from her within two weeks. 

I don't do all of this by myself though. I have to thank Maria Hill for being such a rock through all of this. She has been with me since I told her about the idea of buying this old, broken and run down property and turn it into something beautiful. She helps with everything, looks after the girls as if they were her own, we both do. Without Maria, this place wouldn't be possible. 

Well, I won't chew your ear off any longer! Feel free to write us a little letter, we're the ranch closeted to the railway station in Drybellow! We would love to hear from you. Stay safe out there! 

~ Natasha, Maria & the Girls of Black Hill Ranch.

Taglist: @madislayyy | @riveramorylunar | @teganmiller | @kyleeservopoulos | @yelenaslyubov | @kacka84 | @lesbiarmy | @meurgen | @caporal-nino | @sl-ut | @scarletwidowblackwitch | @dogtamer415 | @mousetheorist | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

[myjunkisyuzuruhanyu]

ISU released an article about Shoma

Two-time ISU World Champion and three-time Olympic medalist Shoma Uno of Japan has announced his retirement from competitive skating after a long and distinguished career and is ready to open a new chapter in his life.

“I have decided to retire from active competition,” Uno wrote on Instagram. “I am very grateful to have been able to continue skating for 21 years since I was 5 years old, and to have had a wonderful athletic life.”

The Japanese star will talk in more detail about his retirement and future plans in a press conference scheduled for May 14.

The 26-year-old looks back at a career with many highlights and also difficult times, but he always came back, proving his talent and showing resilience. When five-year-old Shoma went to the ice rink in his hometown of Nagoya with his father to have fun, he had no idea that he would become a World Champion, Olympic medalist and super star of the sport. He only knew that the enjoyed skating and kept coming back to the rink, taking lessons. He trained with Machiko Yamada, the coach of Japanese skating icon Midori Ito and also with Mihoko Higuchi for many years and worked his way up in the skating world.

Uno debuted in the ISU Junior Grand Prix in 2011 and was so tiny that he was unable to look over the boards. He won a few medals on the Junior circuit but his breakthrough came in what was his last Junior season in 2014/15 when he qualified for the first time for the ISU Junior Grand Prix Final where he claimed gold. Shoma went on to take the ISU World Junior title in 2015, in what was his fourth and final appearance at the event (climbing from 10th in 2012, 7th in 2013 and 5th in 2014).

Once at the senior level, Uno quickly became one of the top Skaters in the World. In his World debut in 2016 he placed 7th but then the next year won silver, his first of a total of four World medals. In his first Olympic Winter Games in 2018, Shoma skated off with the silver medal and returned on to the Olympic podium four years later, earning the bronze. In 2022 and 2023 Uno crowned himself ISU World Champion.

However, in between there was a time of struggle. In the 2019/20 season, for the first (and only) time in his career, Uno finished off the podium in the ISU Grand Prix Series. He had left his coaches since childhood and struggled with confidence.

“At first, to be honest, I was thinking about finishing my career,“ he said in an interview at Skate America 2021 about this time.

“I did not know how much longer I would keep going. But imaging the end (I thought) maybe I'll enjoy the rest of this career as an athlete.“

Uno started to work with two-time World Champion Stéphane Lambiel as his coach and choreographer in fall 2019 and soon came back strong. He grew as an athlete and a performer with beautiful programs that highlighted his versatility: “Turandot” (Free Skating 2017/18), “Great Spirit” (Short Program 2020/21), “Bolero” (Free Skating 2021/22) and “Spiegel im Spiegel” (Free Skating 2023/24) to name a few.

At the same time, the Japanese star always pushed the limits technically and made history by becoming the first Skater to perform a quadruple flip in competition in 2016.

“When I train and want to become better, it's not good for me to work on what I can already do. If I'm satisfied with just giving 80 per cent, I'm not good. The right training for me is to push my limits,” Uno said in an interview.

The Japanese Skater has an independent mind and a fun personality. He has a Youtube Channel where you can meet his three toy poodles Emma, Baron and Toro.

“When I am on the ice, I am totally focused on my sport, but when I'm off the ice, I am sure most people know I am just a lazy slacker, but I thought that would be a good way to show to the people how I am off the ice, but still this is Shoma Uno,” he explained.

When asked who inspires him the most, Shoma’s surprising answer was:

"Myself. Of course, I think I am inspired by many people and heard some good words from everyone, too, but in the end when you break it down, I do feel that it is myself that inspires me and sadly, I don't listen to anyone. Sometimes I listen, but mostly I go with my own mind,” he added.

For sure Uno will follow his own ideas in the years to come but you can certainly expect to see him gracing the ice in shows for a while.