[ STILL THE SAME ] MIYA ATSUMU.
“baby, before ya get mad—”
“atsumu, do i even want to hear it?” you sigh, pinching your nose and exhaling. he pouts, looking at you with curled lips and furrowed brows as you stare back unimpressed.
atsumu asking you not to get mad is almost always a headache-inducing scheme that probably takes a few years off your life, and you’re not really in the mood to test your mortality for your handful of a husband at the moment. but something tells you he’s not going to drop it any time soon, so you simply sigh before motioning for him to continue.
“okay, i’m ready,” you say warily, “spit it out before i get a migraine.”
“i…uh, i can’t find ma weddin’ ring,” he says quietly, fiddling with his fingers as he refuses to meet your eyes. you blink, processing his words before they really register.
and now that you look closely, there’s almost a slight tremble to his lips, the tiniest wobble that he tries to fight back as he meets your eyes with glossy ones of his own. and suddenly, your heart clenches as you take a step forward and cup his cheek.
“aw, tsum,” you murmur, tracing the soft skin of his cheek with your thumb, reaching to pinch his nose affectionately with your other hand, “that’s okay. we can go find you a new one, a fancier one this time now that we have more—”
“but ‘ts not the same,” he sniffles, pouting at you deeper as he leans his face closer into your hand.
atsumu proposes to you the night before his first msby game, just a young rookie player with the beginning of a career beneath his feet. he accidentally blurts out please marry me when you squeal over his new jersey, and when you pause, shock clear on your face as you shakily whisper that’s not fair, tsum, he pulls out a ring from his pockets like he’s been waiting for this moment for weeks.
and he has—he’s young and hasn’t even made a decent earning yet, doesn’t even fully know how his credit score works, still calls his mother to ask how to start the laundry machine, but he knows he wants to marry you like he knows the ball will be ready for his teammates to spike as long as he’s on the court.
so you kiss him in your dingy little living room, tearfully pulling him close after you whisper yes, and he slides the best diamond he can afford with his carefully earned savings onto your finger. it’s the same ring that he’s been trying to lump together enough money to buy, the one he’s had his heart set on for a while now. and when you blow him a small kiss from the bleachers before his turn to serve the next day, the slight glimmer of the ring catching his eye, he brings you home the most service aces of the game.
and he’s come a long way since then—a starting setter for a v. league division one team, sponsorship offers left and right, magazine covers as a well-known athlete, an olympic champion. you’ve watched him grow, watched him beam proudly as you move into a larger home, one with fancy windows and hardwood floors, but you watch him stay the same atsumu you fall in love with when you’re just figuring out how the world works and where you fall in it.
he’s still the same atsumu who snores too loud and hogs the blanket, the same atsumu who can’t cook to save his life but makes you the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had, the same atsumu who wears mismatched socks and never checks his pockets before he puts his pants in the laundry. he’s still the same atsumu who calls his brother a scrub but helps clean the onigiri miya tables during closing hours on his way home from practice, the same atsumu who sometimes gets homesick and misses his mom after he calls her every morning, the same atsumu who never falls asleep without pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering i love ya no matter how mad you are at each other before bed.
so you smile, squeeze his cheeks together as he looks at you miserably, pressing scattered kisses across his face like the sun meets your lips with each one.
“did you check the bathroom counter,” you raise a brow, giggling when his face flushes a light shade of crimson.
“i might’ve forgotten about that one,” he chuckles sheepishly, “ya might not want ta go in the bedroom for a while—’s a mess in there.”
“you tore up our whole bedroom before checking there?” you roll your eyes, making the pout return from earlier. and he’s still the same atsumu who makes your veins pop and your eyes roll, the same atsumu who’s as stubborn as he is obnoxious, the same atsumu who makes you question your choices at least three times a day—but you think he’s worth it when his eyes meet yours and the breath gets knocked from your lungs.
“i’ll clean it,” he defends, “ya’ll be able ta eat off the floor when ‘m done in there.”
“we’ll be lucky if we still have a floor anymore when you’re done trying to clean,” you snort, pinching his cheek as he scowls at you. and with a playful roll of his eyes, he plants two warm hands on your waist, familiar and safe as they pull you flush against a sturdy chest.
miya atsumu, when he kisses you just as sweetly as the first time, as the night he proposes to you, as the day he marries you, as he did last night and the night before that, reminds you just why you said yes all those years ago.
“don’t be mean,” he grumbles, making you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, “if i lose ma ring, ya’ll have no proof ‘m yer husband. what then?”
“then i’ll do this so everyone knows you’re my husband,” you wink cheekily before pressing another kiss to his lips, smiling into them as he melts against you with a soft sigh.
for my love sayu's champagne kisses collab @tahdashii !! sjdsdfh technically it's about a wedding ring instead of an actual wedding but i hope it counts sobsob
© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
pairing: Hawks/Keigo Takami x fem!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: exhibitionism, thigh riding, daddy kink, dirty talk, public sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms
basically: sometimes Keigo gets a little handsy when you're out dancing <3
“What’s a’matter, pretty bird?” He coos into your ear, warm breath fanning over your neck. “S’not like anybody’s watching.”
“Kei..” you peer out at the crowd of people in the club, many of whom who are staring at the spectacle of the winged hero on the dance floor. “They’re all watching,” you whisper.
“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles. Laughs it off with that infectious charm of his. “So what? Maybe I want ‘em to.”
He holds your hips tighter still and flexes his muscular thigh, guiding you along his leg hard enough to apply just the right amount of pressure between your legs.
You cling to his shoulders, chewing on your cheek to fight back the moan trying to claw it’s way out of your throat, but he doesn’t need to hear it to know the effect that he has on you. He leans in again and you can feel his smirk against the shell of your ear.
“Maybe I want ‘em all to watch while I get you off right here. Keep movin’ those hips, baby. Don’t you dare stop.”
“Baby,” you whine as your arms wind around his neck and you bury your face in the crook of it. Onlookers be damned, you were going to get yours now.
You rock your hips forward, the denim of his jeans providing the perfect amount of resistance to catch your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, barely concealed by the way your dress is riding up.
"There you go, that's it, baby girl," he croons, eyes raking over your body as he watches you roll your hips, taking what you want despite the viewing party. "Just like that. S'that feel good?"
“So good, Kei,” you whine, moving your hips faster to chase the delicious feeling sending heat throughout your body.
“Keep goin’, baby. Wanna feel you cum all over my jeans in front of all these people,” he whispers, his hand moving to grip your ass in a firm grasp, guiding your hips along his thigh with no trace of shame.
All you can do in groan in response, selfishly chasing your release. A flash goes off somewhere nearby, but you could care less as that beautiful white hot heat reaches your belly and threatens to take over every nerve in your body.
“Cum for me right here and I’ll give you what you really want,” he promises, voice dark with desire as his breathe tickles your neck.
“Want you,” you murmur, winding your arms around him tighter to bring your torso flush against him. “M’so close. So, so close, daddy.”
“I know, I know, dove,” he shushes you gently in your ear. “S’okay. Just let go. Cum for me, baby. Sing for me.”
You have no choice but to comply, hips stuttering as you finally find oblivion right there on the dance floor. You grip the fabric of his shirt, whimpering into the crook of his neck as you fall apart, all your nerves coming alive as his toned arms encircle you, holding your close to his body and keeping you upright when your knees seem like they might just give.
“Fuck yeah, baby.” He nips at your earlobe, tugging gently as his hands slide along your body. “Feels good, huh?”
“Mhm. Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed as your body keeps singing for him, hips gliding along his thigh despite how you tremble in his capable grasp.
“Such a good girl,” he praises, fingertips trialing along your arms, sending shivers throughout your body and making your cunt throb as he suddenly starts pulling you off of the floor.
You follow readily, eager for the promise of more. He leads you outside through a side entrance to a desolate alleyway and wastes no time in pinning you to the brick wall of the building. His hands are as greedy as his tongue, boldly exploring every inch of you while his warm, pink muscle works it’s way into your mouth.
The sound of his zipper is all that you register while your fingers tangle into his messy, blonde tresses. He tugs your panties aside, hiking up your dress to reveal what he’s after.
“S’this it, love? This what you needed from me?” He asks with a smug grin as his cock teases your entrance, slipping between your dripping folds.
“Yes, yes. Kei, please. Fuck me,” you beg, grabbing at his biceps as your hood shift forward.
“I am, baby. Fuck, I am,” he groans as he plunges inside of you. “Goddamn, you feel like heaven.”
You can’t possibly expect him to control himself when you’re this wet for him, pussy still spasming from your last orgasm.
He drives himself into you, one hand seizing your waist while the other keeps your leg up in his hip to hold you flush against the wall as he delivers on his promise, bullying your walls into submission until you’re ready to cum again.
“K-Kei,” you eek out, the pressure growing too great to hold off any longer.
“Do it again, baby. Cum on my cock,” he huffs, panting as he wills himself to move faster still until he’s on the precipice himself. “C’mon, give it to me. Lemme feel you, gorgeous.”
“Keigo,” you gasp, voice barely audible as you find oblivion, eyes popping open as you find wild golden irises that blow wide as he finds his own release.
He paints your insides white with his warm seed, pushing it deeper inside you as he rides out his orgasm, holding you almost too tight while he loses himself in your cunt for one blissful moment.
You grind against one another, slowly tapering off your movements as your peaks crest and fade away, leaving you both dizzy with pleasure.
“Let’s go dancing he says. We’ll keep it low key,” you giggle quietly, tangling your fingers into his hair to rub his scalp as his soft eyes search your face.
“You had fun, didn’t you?” He chucked in reply, leaning in to kiss your lips. “We should do it again sometime.”
“We should,” you agree, tailing a lock of his hair around your finger as he smiles wider and leans in to kiss you once more, soft and slow.
likes, comments, & reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading <3
𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 — hanma shuji x f!reader
SYN: you challenge hanma to a round of poker, and the both of you place your bets. if you win—you get his Bentley and $250k. If he wins, he gets to fuck you in one of the private rooms in the back. surely you'll win, right?
CW: toman and bonten make an appearance. gambling. swearing. reader wears a dress. smut. unprotected sex. creampie. groping. pet names (baby, princess, doll, pretty girl). let me know if i missed anything! wc: 3.4k
AN: LISTEN UP! i have absolutely no idea how gambling or casinos work but i did my research and tried my best! this might be inaccurate so i'm apologizing from now hehe. either way, enjoy! (ignore the fact that i changed my fic format again oops)
ty for @megumi-divine and @utahimeow for beta <3 | @tokyometronetwork
MINORS DNI. barely proofread. tr masterlist
"if i win this round," your eyes never leave his as you make your way to the opposite side of the table, "then of course, I get my share. along with your Bentley—and everything that's inside of it."
you see hanmas face turn stern, lip slightly curving down until it's right back up. he's smirking at you, and you already know that he's not backing down from a challenge.
it's a good thing you don't back down, either.
"alright, and if I win," his golden eyes stare into yours, as if they're looking right into your soul, "then I get to fuck you in one of the private rooms in the back."
a course of whistles and gasps fill the room, and you see rindou give hanma the deadliest stare possible. a rush of adrenaline fills your body and you feel your knees weaken.
you half expected him to ask for something materialistic—something that has to do with money or expensive items. but to your shock (well, not so much, actually), he'd rather get his dick wet over anything he could possibly have.
you smile at him, and he follows the movement of your perfectly glossed lips as you point to the table and say, "that's a deal then. shall we?"
you ignore the looks and shocked faces of the executives, and let it pass as just a playful round of poker. surely, you'll win. . . right?
and so it begins, you and hanma decide it'll only be one round. no repeats, no second chances, whoever wins gets what they've already decided on prior to the round.
being in these types of places isn't something new to you—casinos, high-end bars and clubs—they're places you frequent with bonten. but there are times where you don't like to involve yourself with their business.
toman and bonten, they regularly meet for business and events. but the two gangs have been rivaling each other for the longest time. they haven't been at each other's throats, they never purposely go out of their way to hurt the other gang—but at the same time, they aren't exactly friends .
you sit right in the middle, between the two. yes, you technically 'belong' to bonten, but you find a certain member of toman interesting. so you never miss out on the opportunity to come along when bonten is meeting with toman.
all because you want to see hanma.
(he wants to see you, too.)
you've been taught how to play poker, but you've never taken it as seriously as they have.
as the round goes on, rindou's eyes never leave yours, he watches like a hawk the entire time, and if you weren't so focused on winning, then you would have told him off.
on the other hand, the way hanma looks so confident and unbothered makes your blood boil. it's not that he's playing carelessly—he isn't. he plays with full concentration but at the same time doesn't look like he's putting much effort at all.
the sight of him, so well put together in his suit, hair perfectly styled, and his demeanor so calm and collected—it makes your thighs squeeze together and you feel warm heat pool inside you.
"what's goin thru that pretty little head of yours, hm?"
your eye snap up to meet his hazy, golden ones. the dim lighting of the casino makes it look like his orbs are glowing, the earring he wears glistens and swings as he moves.
"nothing," you smirk at him from across the table, "i'm just thinking of that Bentley of yours and the $250k that sits in the trunk of it."
you've never seen a man's smile drop so fast in your life. it made the smirk on your lips linger, proud of the subtle reaction he was giving you.
the hand that sits on the table tightens into a fist, and you think you see his veins through this skin.
"oh, yeah? and how would you know that i've got that much money in the back of my car?" he asks, tone neutral but his lips slightly turn up at the corners of his mouth.
you stare at your chips that are stacked on the table, each one varying with value. if you go all in—you could possibly risk losing the entire round and let hanma have his way. but even if you do play safe—you never know what kind of tricks he has up his sleeve.
and one thing that you do know, is that hanma will do anything to get what he wants.
"i guess you can say that i have my sources." you wink back at him.
as the game goes on, you notice his eyes lingering on you—tracing your body in the silky, black dress that you wear. he feels his pants become unbearably uncomfortable at the sight of you, the way your tits sit nice and pretty, the way your neck is a blank canvas all ready for him to mark up with dark bruises and love bites.
and it would all be simply his if he won this round.
mikey and some of the bonten executives are off somewhere finalizing deals and speaking to other gangs here—but rindou has not once left your side. he goes as far as placing a hand on your shoulder while you play.
"you really don't need to babysit me, y'know," you turn to him, speaking quietly enough that it's only you two that can hear, "i'll be fine alone."
rindou's brows furrow but he doesn't say anything, he's always been a little protective of you so this behavior isn't something foreign. instead, he pulls away but speaks right into your ear.
"it's not that i don't trust you," he says as his eyes flick over to hanma's, "i don't trust him."
if hanma can hear, he's definitely ignoring him.
"you can go, and i'll find you once we're done." he finally lets out, giving you a curt nod.
it's obvious he doesn't want to leave, but at the same time he wants to respect your wishes. reluctantly, rindou spares one more glare hanma's way and then slowly takes his leave.
the game goes on, and you feel your palms become even more sweatier by the second. the air feels thick, and anxiety swims through your blood.
opposite of you, hanma pulls out a cigar, lighting it, taking a long drag as he watches you.
the glowing lights create an atmosphere around the two of you that makes it seem like nobody else exists here. the world stills. it's just you, hanma, and this little game of poker.
you must be too absorbed in the game because he laughs, and you think it's the first time that you see his pearly white teeth as he throws his head back slightly, "c'mon, pretty girl, don't be so tense. this is all fun and games, right?"
you pout, mostly because you're frustrated with the way the round is going. you'd been so
sure that you made the right moves in order to be on the winning path—but then again, anyone that plays with hanma shuji should know that their fate is set in stone the second the round begins.
at some point in the round you find yourself at a disadvantage.
hanma is making moves that you'd think would be better for you — but instead it's giving him the upper hand.
your leg bounces under the table, but your face remains stoic in an effect to conceal his true effect on you.
hanma makes move after move, each one calculated precisely. he makes sure that whatever he does—it'll be in his advantage in the end.
as much as you try to counter him, you conclude that your best efforts don't compare to his natural skills. he knows too much—too many tricks, too many ways to get himself out of a situation.
you're like a puppet on a string that he controls. even if he's playing against you, it seems as if he has been pulling certain strings this whole time, jeopardizing every single one of your movements.
before you know it, the round is over. it's inevitable—you think. but now you're doubting yourself and your confidence as you register the results of the round. you stare at the chips, the cash and the drinks sprawled out on the table—and you try to recall where you went wrong but nothing comes to mind.
you sit there, shocked and unable to say anything. you've lost—but a part of you doesn't seem to be upset about that fact. yes, you could have come home with a shit ton of money and a brand new car—but you find yourself already slowly accepting your defeat.
you know you could get anything you want, anyway. but you play for the fun, you play for the thrill of it you play for the rush of adrenaline you get every time you place a chip down.
you're snapped out of your daydream when you hear hanma whistle, loud and long. he has a grin on his face that makes you scowl in return. the taste of losing is bitter in your mouth.
"i think we already knew this was going to happen, princess." he says, tone low and deep.
you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, he follows the movement with his eyes, shamelessly eyeing your chest, "you must've cheated somewhere, y-you cant just win that easily. i've nev—"
"i've won fair and square." he cuts you off. "no need to make excuses. and for the record, no, actually, i didn't cheat."
you pinch the bridge of your nose. your palms are clenched in a tight fist under the table. hanma brings out an anger inside you that you've never even known you harbored.
he leans forward, large body towering over the table. he's close enough that if he whispers you'd be able to hear him, "i think you owe me, pretty girl."
you bite the inside of your mouth to keep yourself from saying anything, and you think you taste blood. he's not wrong, you do technically owe him something. but at the same time, you're not mad at how this round has ended.
hanma gets up from where he was sitting, dusting off his pants, and making his way over to you.
he stands looming over you, looking down as he reaches his hand out, "shall we?" he says mockingly, repeating the same words you told him earlier.
you look up at him through your lashes, and he swears he feels his dick get even harder from the sight.
"don't keep me waiting, doll," he says, a slight smile to his lips.
you give in to him, you just got a free chance to fuck Japans 2nd most dangerous criminal. the same one you've been pining after for the longest time.
you take his hand and he leads you away from the table and crowd. you catch rindou's shocked eyes as you're walking hand in hand with hanma.
“w-where are we going?” you ask in a hurry, ignoring the stares that you're getting from the onlookers.
hanma doesn't look back at you, but he keeps the grip on your hand firm, “i'm not actually taking you to the private rooms. that's where all the ugly business goes down.”
he leads you through the tables and the crowd, taking you all the way to the bathrooms that are located at the corner of the casino.
“you're fucking me in the bathroom? are you serious?”
he pauses, looks back at you but doesn't let go of your hand, “well would you rather me fuck you in front of all the other executives? have them watch as you take my cock right in front of them?”
you're shocked into silence. mouth opening and closing, but no words come out. “I—no. no i wouldn't.” you look away from his unwavering gaze, and suddenly you feel so small compared to him. “could you just hurry up?"
he chuckles, deep and gravely, “impatient, are we?”
you scowl at him, and it just makes his grin even wider.
you enter the empty bathroom, and the second the door closes he turns to you and asks, “there's still time to back out if you don't want this. it was just a silly bet and i'm not pressuring you to do this.”
you feel his hot breath as he traps you between him and the door, he's looking down at you, but you don't think you could handle meeting his eyes.
in a small voice, you tell him, “I'm sure. i-i want this.”
he brings one hand to your face, his other is placed sturdily against the door. his thumb traces over your lips and he pulls the bottom one out, keeping you from biting and playing with it.
“may i?” he almost whispers. you can't bring yourself to say anything, so you give him the green light by nodding in return.
his lips are soft when they meet yours. they move perfectly as if they were always meant to be slotted against them. he sucks and bites your lower lip and your bring your hands to grip the front of his suit—pulling him even closer to you.
his body presses on to yours, and you think you feel him everywhere. he overwhelms your senses—towering over you with his height and his broad shoulders.
his tongue slips into your mouth with no warning, exploring and swiping over yours. his hands are wandering all over you, groping and touching—and you already feel your panties starting to dampen. you can feel him everywhere around you, like he's the only thing that exists in this moment.
“fuck, you don't know how long i've wanted to do this,” he says, squeezing your ass through your dress.
“hanma,” you whisper, you don't know why you're saying his name, but he sure loves it.
you tug at the hair at the base of his nape, and it brings out a deep groan from his throat.
“fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”
you sigh in satisfaction when he starts kissing down the column of your neck, marking and leaving dark bruises all around the sensitive skin.
“shuji, please,” you whine, its uncomfortable how your panties are soaked at this point. your thighs rub together to ease the ache that's built in your core.
he buries is face even deeper into your neck once he hears his first name, the hold he has on the back of your thighs almost hurts from how hard he's gripping you.
“tell me what you need, use your words like a big girl.”
you feel hot heat rush up to your face, and you shy away from his gaze, “please just fuck me . .” you say quietly.
“Mm, can't hear you. you're gonna have to speak up, doll.”
he's teasing. you know he's teasing you. and you squirm in his hold, "s-shut up! can you just fuck me already?" you huff out.
his smirk deepens, like it seems that he's got you exactly where he wants you, "only 'cause you asked so nicely, princess,"
his large palms make their way to the bottom of your dress, and he looks up at you wordlessly asking for permission.
he yanks the fabric up over your waist once you nod, and sighs deeply at the sight of your bare legs. he massages your thighs and hands smooth over the skin, “you've been hiding this from me this entire time?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, “you never really payed attention to me whenever i came along to meetings a-and stuff.”
his eyes widen like he's shocked, and pulls away to look at your face, “you fuckin’ serious?”
you pause, and you meet his eyes in shock, “no, i don't know. . . i almost gave up on trying to reach you,”
“c’mere,” he says, leading you to the mirror, bending you slightly over the counter as he stands behind you.
“i would see you all the time, sitting all pretty in those little dresses of yours,” he looks at you through the mirror, moving your hair to the side, “and it would take everything inside me to keep it together.”
he kisses the back of your neck, and his arms move forward to grope your tits through the fabric, “i think i could die a happy man right now.”
you smile shyly at his words, and push your hips backwards so your ass meets the front of his slacks. you rub yourself against him, feeling his hard cock stiffen at the touch.
“shuji, what're you waiting for?”
he drops his head on your shoulder, and you hear the zipper of his slacks. soon enough, his cock is freed from the confines of his pants.
one of his hands come up to rub you through your panties, "already this wet for me?" he runs two long fingers through your wet folds, collecting the slick that continues to drip out of you.
“ah—fuck! feels so good,”
he smirks at you through the mirror, and you shudder when they run over your swollen bud. the bundle of nerves aching in need for stimulation makes you jump when he massages a certain spot.
“fuck, baby, i cant wait any longer,” he groans, holding your hips in place, “need to be inside you, now,”
you do him a favor and reach behind you where his leaking cock is, you wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking him as you angle your hips.
the air is suddenly knocked out of your lungs when he pushes inside you with no warning, you gasp as you feel the burning stretch of your walls.
he buries his face in your neck and starts a grueling pace, wasting no time at all. the force of his hips has you weak in the knees and if he weren't holding you so tight, you think you'd be a puddle on the floor.
“so fuckin’ perfect for me,” he bites your bare shoulder, muffling his groans.
"fuck—ive waited so long for this," he huffs out, hips snapping right back into you at an unforgiving pace, "to fuck you until you were cryin' on my cock" he laughs in your neck, the hot air tickling the hairs on your nape.
he hits a spot that has you seeing stars, your breath caught in your throat, and you try so, so hard to keep quiet, but with the way he's fucking you right now—you bet everyone loitering around near the bathrooms could hear everything.
“fuck—!” you cry out, the tears building in the corners of your eyes.
"look at you," he pants, the sheer layer of sweat glistening on his forehead, "takin' me so well, see?" he thrusts even harder, and it takes everything in you not to scream out loud in pleasure. it's just so much—but it's so fucking good.
your nails dig into his forearm where you're grabbing on, "there's no need—ah, fuck, no need to deny you want my cock, baby"
you feel the pressure tighten in your belly, and it only takes a few more thrusts before you're crying out, cumming on his cock.
“so fuckin’ warm,” he grunts, “gonna fill this pretty pussy up,”
his movements don't stop even when he spills deep inside you with a long groan, filling you all the way to the brim with his warm release.
your body falls limp over the bathroom counter, tired and all fucked-out. you feel like your world is spinning as both of you take this time to catch your breaths, basking in the afterglow.
he chuckles, breathless with a wide grin on his face, “maybe we should play more poker, huh?”
you lift your head to look at him through the mirror, “so there's a next time?” you ask playfully.
he pulls your panties up for you, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress, “don't act like you didn't enjoy this.”
“i don't mind a next time,” you say quietly, standing up and turning around, “i was kinda hoping this wouldn't be a one-time thing.”
he smiles softly at you and cups your cheek with one large palm, “anything you want, baby.”
feedback and reblogs are appreciated <;3