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dabilove27 · 2 years

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Paring: Shuji Hanma x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Word Count: 5.9K

Warnings: Dark content, All characters depicted 18+, Hanma is a jerk, a hint of Yandere, noncon, nonconsensual somnophilia, explicit sexual content, oral (F!receiving), unprotected sex, cursing, reader is a bit spoiled, drugging, pet names (love, babe, baby, little one), smoking, alcohol. Please let me know if I missed any!

Summary: After ten dates Hanma is sick of waiting for his prize. His chase is almost done and he's about to devour you.

a/n: hello hello! Thank you for taking the time to read! This is my submission for downtown-roppongi's dine and dash collab! Check out the masterlist! Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading this through and cheering me on! love you! PLEASE read the warnings before continuing to read!

Ten. This is the tenth fucking date Hanma is taking you on. And you haven't let him anywhere near the bedroom. And while he liked taking his time, savoring his prize once he finally succeeded–Shuji Hanma was not a patient man.

He thought three dates was a bit excessive, and you still hadn't even given him the satisfaction of a kiss. But you kept saying yes every time he asked you out, so you had to be into him somewhat, right?

Even if you weren't into him, he decided from that very first moment that you were his, and he would have you, no matter how hard he had to try. Maybe it's because you made him chase so much. Maybe that was the reason he couldn’t tear himself away from you. Whereas in the past, he would've dropped a girl by now if she wasn't putting out yet. Call him a prick, a jerk, an asshole, call him whatever you want, but he wasn't going to apologize for enjoying himself. And he knew–just fucking knew he had to have you the moment he saw you in that cafe

It had been a light spring day when he encountered you in that little coffee shop that he decided to visit to get a pick-me-up after a long night out. It was typical and predictable like any other shop–slow jazzy music wafting from the speakers, the smell of freshly brewed coffee covering every inch, and young baristas hustling to make drinks. But then, like a deer in headlights, he came to a complete stop when he saw you, curled up on one of the oversized lounge chairs, your nose pressed into a book.

He couldn't help taking every inch of you in, though. Beautiful legs curled up beneath you. His mind instantly traveled to how they would feel if wrapped around his hips. His eyes raked to the tiny white shorts that rode up your thighs from how you were sitting, showing more skin than you probably intended. A light pink t-shirt fit comfortably on you, but he wished you wore something more revealing so he could flood his imagination with every aspect of you.

At that moment, he knew he had to have you. The thought of you lying beneath him blissed-out, soft lips open in a pant, infiltrated every part of his mind. And so, without hesitation, he approached you–like a predator stalking his prey. You didn't even snap away from your reading until he was towering above you and cleared his throat.

The way your eyes darted up to him, all doe-eyed and shocked out of the little world you were in, set every nerve inside him on fire. You were perfect, every single bit of you.

Hanma fell instantly into a persona he pulled off well, charming, interested, and funny. A little bit of small talk, some compliments, and a joke later, he had your number and promised he would text you to meet up for coffee sometime.

He left that date feeling high and like he was on top of the world. But he didn't expect how hard you would make him work to achieve all those dirty fantasies running through his brain.

And that's how he ended up here, on date number ten. He left every date with blue balls. Images of you haunted his thoughts every night– your pouty lips choking on his cock or how tight your cunt would clench around him when he finally made you cum for him. The nightly images were driving him mad. He wanted you so bad, there was something about you that he couldn't just give up. He had to taste you first.

So far, he's suffered through nine excruciating dates with only as much as a peck on the cheek for his troubles. He had already decided by the end of this date it was happening. No wasn't an answer he would accept by the night's end.

Hanma pulled out all the stops to seal the deal, booking a room for you in a prestigious hotel in Tokyo with a renowned restaurant. Both filled with rave reviews. It had cost him a pretty penny, but he had to have you. He couldn't spend another night fucking his fist pretending it was you. So whether you liked it or not, you were spending the night with him.

Hanma waited in front of your apartment building; as the afternoon set into early evening, the sky was filled with light oranges and yellows. You never let him in your apartment either, a thought that enraged him if he spent too long focusing on it. He had spent a lot of money and time on you over the past dates; the least you could do was invite him up. But you never did, always laughing nervously and telling him your roommate wouldn't appreciate an unannounced guest.

So that's why he chose a hotel; because he knew you wanted this, he was sure. He could see it in your coy smile and how your hand traced over his tattoos. You wouldn't keep saying yes to dates if you didn't want this. Right?

Hanma is brought out of his thoughts by the absolutely sinful image of you slowly stepping down the stairs from your apartment. And this, your outfit just confirms how much you want him to ravish every inch of you. You wouldn't wear that if you didn't want him to look and lust after you. It's a tiny piece of blue fabric that shouldn't even be called a dress because of the way it lays on your body. The deep V gives an expansive view of your cleavage that Hanma wishes was a view only for himself and not one you were going to show in public. The bottom of the dress hits high on your thighs; it would be a whole show if you had to bend over. And paired with matching tall blue heels, you looked like complete and utter sex personified.

Hanma feels blood rush to his groin as he takes you in. Just like every single date, you never hesitated to show skin–always flaunting your curves. He just didn't understand why you wouldn't let him in, wouldn't let him have a taste of what you were teasing. He felt like a child being punished in a candy shop.

But he doesn't dwell on that too long; if he does, the anger will eat him alive, and he needs to try and make this night go as smoothly as possible. So he plasters on a smile and turns on the charm. Cooing in a sweet, sultry tone telling you how beautiful you are. He doesn't miss the way you shy away, avoiding eye contact, a nervous chuckle–it's so cute it sends another rush of blood to his dick. It was only a matter of time until he had you writhing under him, that shy look dissolved into pleasure as he pounds into your tight cunt. Hanma has to snap himself away from those thoughts quickly. They would only distract him from actually achieving his goal.

He wanted to try and do this the right way, the sensible way, before resorting to plan b. You gingerly take his arm, and he's caught up again in the feel of your soft skin and the clean but light smell of you. You drive him fucking insane. It takes every ounce of control to not move a hand to grip your ass as he opens the passenger door to his car and watches you slide in, and more of your skin peeks out from under your dress.

The drive to the hotel is calm and boring by Hanma's standards. The two of you talk about your week. You bring up how some asshole at your job tried to ask you on a date without even bothering to pull his eyes away from your breasts. Hanma can't blame the poor sap though you've got a fantastic pair of tits. But it sends a surge of rage through him thinking about another man even laying eyes on you. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter at the thought. Whether you knew it or not, you were his. And he would decide when to let you go.

The two of you arrive at the sprawling hotel in the heart of Tokyo. Hanma quickly pulls his car up to the hotel and stops in front of the valet booth. He doesn't miss how the young man attending the booth can’t rip his eyes away from you as he opens your door to let you out. He would've knocked the kid on his ass if he wasn't trying to impress you.

But instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to chase away those thoughts. His golden eyes watch you like a hawk, in awe of your beauty. You’re graceful even in those heels as you stare in awe at the immaculate entry way. The marble accents, the glass doors, and the high ceiling of the entrance to the hotel screams high class.

"You didn't tell me we were coming to a hotel, Shuji," you turn to him, your voice coy and a playful smile across your face.

Hanma knew very well that you liked to be spoiled. Almost every date you showed excitement and giddiness when he bought you the best wine off the menu or took you to the most expensive destinations. You were a spoiled brat, but that didn't stop him from pursuing you; it made him want you more. He couldn't wait until he had that brat begging for his cock, to know who had control of this relationship.

"They have a restaurant on the thirty-first floor, my love," He responds sweetly. He knew what you were alluding to in your earlier question; you wanted to be wined and dined but would never say that aloud. But you would surely throw a fit if that didn’t happen. Hanma places one of his large hands on the small of your back, "Only the best for you."

You let out a little squeak as he guides you to the pristine elevator, complete with a window to watch the view of Tokyo as you ascend. The two of you step in and take the long ride up to the floor with the restaurant. As the elevator ascends you lean forward to gaze outside the window, standing close enough to him that your ass brushes against the front of his black dress pants. And all he wants to do is take you to that room he had checked into earlier today and fuck your brains out. You had to know, right? You had to know your ass was rubbing against his dick. You weren't stupid, but fuck, you were a tease. And it was driving him up the goddamn wall.

Hanma lets out a thankful sigh of relief when the elevator lets out a little ding indicating it's reached its destination. One more moment with you pressed against him, and there would be no dinner. He didn’t care anymore, he would take you right there, pressed up against the glass for all of Tokyo to see.

But that had to wait until after giving you an extravagant dinner; he would get his reward, just a bit longer, and every moment would be worth it. The two of you sauntered into the restaurant; the table that he had already booked sat completely made up in the private dining area next to a large window where you could look across the skyline. He would have never done this for any other date, none of them had ever caught his interest long enough; but there was something about you that just kept calling to him. He kept chalking it up to the chase, you always made him chase you like no other had before.

Dinner goes off without a hitch like most of your dates do. The two of you feast on fresh sushi and make idle chatter. You've drunk a fair amount of wine, and he can tell you’re teetering on that tipsy edge. Your eyes are lidded, and a lazy smile is permanently plastered on your face. Hanma hopes that will make you more willing for tonight's activities, he lets you order as much wine as you want to help move things along. Everything about this place, the food, the drinks, the price tag he picked with you in mind. Anything to get you to say yes to his tenth attempt to bed you.

He watches like a wolf to an unsuspecting lamb as you finish your last bite of sushi. His eyes follow the swallow of your slender throat, and he feels his mouth start to water at all those things he could do with your throat.

"This was so good, Shuji! We should come here again!" You chirp as you daintily tap the sides of your lips with the black linen napkin.

Hanma doesn't fucking care that you want to come here again; all he wants is to lay tangled in the soft thread count of the hotel sheets with you. But he had to play this carefully, had to make sure you were in the best mood possible. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, babe," he takes a breath before extending his offer, knowing that if you said no, he was moving forward with his alternative plan. "I booked us a room here tonight as an extra surprise for you." He folds his hand under his chin and smiles at you, watching your movements carefully, waiting for your response.

And he knows that the moment your face falls from that happy tipsy face to a frown, that you’re about to turn him down. He can feel the anger bubble up before you even open your mouth. He can't stop the involuntary way his tongue moves out to wet his lips, a nervous gesture he’s had since childhood.

"Ohhh Shuji, I'm exhausted; I'm sorry, you should try to get your money back!" Your words are slurred from the alcohol as you try to console him; he knows you're being genuine; you probably are really sorry, but all he can hear is the denial, the tenth denial. After all the teasing and everything he’s done for you to make sure this night is perfect, you still turn him down. What a fucking insult.

He reels in that anger quickly and covers his disappointment with a happy mask "Sure, babe, why don't you head to the bathroom while I call the front desk," he keeps his voice even as he watches you nod and tells him that's a good idea. You wobble slightly on your way to the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms are located, and he knows it will be a bit until you return with you being that inebriated.

He has to act quickly, though, before you come back. Sliding his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket he produces a tiny vial of clear liquid. Hanma really hated this was the way it had to go; he wanted you willing and pliant beneath him, but this would have to do because he wasn't taking you on another date, not until he got what he rightfully deserved. It was time for you to chase him now. He swiftly removes the little rubber cap, drops the contents into your mostly untouched water, and then stirs it in with your straw.

He is placing the vile back in his suit pocket when you arrive back at the table. "They haven't brought the check yet?" you ask, a bit of annoyance in your voice as you take your seat.

"Not yet, my love. Why don't you have some water?" His voice is steady and calm, as his eyes hold your gaze.

You smile at him, reaching out to pick up the glass. It's cool and wet from the condensation in your palm but feels good against your heated skin. The alcohol has made you warmer, so you welcome the cool liquid as you greedily sip it through your straw. You were thirstier than you had initially thought because, within a few seconds, all that was left were a few halves of melted ice cubes sitting at the bottom of the glass.

Hanma watches as you finish the glass and then set it back on the table with a tiny clink. Next step is to get you to the hotel room, luckily he had already planned each step down to the smallest detail. He knew you'd follow him up like a little puppy when he tells you he is going to grab his things and check out now if they weren’t going to stay the night. "It would be a pain to battle traffic here again," he says calmly as he helps you out of your chair. You slur an agreement at him as you try to get up.

The drug starts to affect you as you sway into his hold. It won't be long until you can't keep your eyes open. Hanma wraps an arm around your waist, the fabric of your dress brushing against his skin. He can't wait to get it off you and see every inch of you. Just a little while longer and then all of you will be his. But he has to make it to the room with you upwards so he doesn’t raise suspicion.

He’s able to pass the two of you as a loving couple eager to maintain physical contact with each other as he walks with you out of the restaurant. He flashes a smile at the unsuspecting waitress and continues to gently walk you forward until the two of you reach the elevator.

His adrenaline has started pumping through his veins, he presses the up button a few times, smooth marble cool against his finger. Luckily for him, no one else was on the elevator when it dinged to let them know it had arrived. He was sure he could explain that you weren’t feeling well but he’s glad he didn’t have to go through the trouble.

He guides you gently into the elevator, careful not to let you stumble in your too-tall heels. Your warm, soft skin is pressed against his side as you struggle to keep your eyes open. "Shuji, I'm tired," you murmur, your eyes closed for a fraction of a second as you wobble and then snap open only for them to slowly start sinking again.

"I know, baby, I know," he comforts you while rubbing one of his tattooed hands up and down your back. Hanma supposes he should feel guilty, trying to comfort you when he was about to do the opposite once he had you in that hotel room. But the ding of the elevator announcing your arrival snaps him out of his thoughts. Besides he had already treated you well ten times now. You can hardly hold up your weight at this point, the drug coursing through your body, pulling you deeper and deeper to unconsciousness.

Hanma has to hold his grip tightly on your hip so that you don't fall face-first into the ground. He thanks whatever deities are out there that the long hallway is empty as he pulls the key card from his pocket and waves it against the scanner on the door. The door lets out a little beep, and the lock coming undone penetrates the hallway's silence.

It's a delicate dance trying to gently move you through the doorway without completely letting go of your loose body. The door almost catches one of his legs between it and the frame, but he maneuvers quickly at the last second to avoid a nasty bruise.

The hotel room is standard, with a bathroom at the front and a short hallway leading to a king-sized bed, two night tables nestled on either side, a desk against the wall under a large mirror, and a set of drawers directly across from the bed. He lowers you slowly to the bed, and you fall into the white soft down-comforter without any resistance. Your body is like gelatin now, limbs wobbly and feeling as if they are miles away. Hanma heads into the bathroom to relieve himself; now that he's confident you aren't going anywhere.

A heaviness settles over you, and you can't keep your eyes open for a moment longer. Maybe if you just close them for a moment, you'll feel better. That's the last thought you have before drifting off into a deep drug-induced sleep. A few moments later, Hanma emerges from the ensuite bathroom to find your sleeping form sprawled along the bed.

His eyes wash over your curves, and he can't believe he's about to get precisely what he's been waiting for for so long. The anticipation in the room is palpable. Your dress had ridden even higher on your thighs, your lacy red thong peeking out below. Even more, evidence to show how badly you truly wanted this.

Hanma gently approaches your sleeping form and allows himself to touch your soft skin. Fingers graze the smooth skin of your cheeks. Gingerly he picks up one of your limp hands and watches as it drops like lead once he lets go.

A sigh of relief comes from knowing you are knocked out; he knew you'd be pissed if you woke up and saw him so close and yourself in such a disheveled state. But for now you were all his, he didn’t have to worry about you waking up anytime soon.

This time, a little less gently, he pulls your limp body to the top of the bed and places your head on the plush pillows. He is able to access every part of you from this angle and doesn’t have to worry about your body falling off of the bed.

His eyes gloss over your plump lips, spread just slightly, and he can't stop himself from placing a soft kiss on them. The two of you had had quick kisses before but never anything intimate like this. Your lipstick was already smudged from eating, but his kiss left it even more of a mess, and he knew its evidence would probably be staining his own lips. He can't stop his palms from tracing your curves. He's only had quick touches before this, never enough time to fully appreciate every part of your body. To fully indulge in all of you.

But your soft lips silently call him again, and he can't stop himself from placing more kisses on them. The kisses become rougher as he goes on, his excitement getting the best of him as he cups your jaw in one of his large hands–so fragile beneath his fingers. His tongue snakes its way into your mouth while his hand holds your jaw, so you don't accidentally bite him in your sleep. You taste like the wine from dinner and something he can't explain that's so specifically you. God, he could get drunk on just the taste of you.

Anticipation of what's to come rises up inside of him, and he pulls away from the kiss to figure out how he’s going to take your dress off. Impatience gets the best of him, and he ends up tearing the fabric right down the middle where the V was resting perfectly between your beautiful breasts.

Laying before him in the ruined outfit, he can't help but feel like you're his trophy, his prize for trying so hard; for treating you so well, perfectly splayed out and ready for the taking. A ferocious need to take you overcomes him, and he finds himself attacking your neck with harsh bites and sucks. He wants you to wake up, see the bruises, and know that you fully submitted to him even if that wasn't your plan.

Hanma continued his journey down your body, leaving little love marks as he went along. He finally reaches your breasts, always covered before, but always taunting him with glimpses of your cleavage. But now, seeing them free of their confines, nipples pert due to the cold air in the room. They were beyond perfect, everything he could have imagined and more. After taking a moment to truly admire how stunning your body was, he latches onto one of your breasts, pulling your nipple into his mouth as he sucks on it. His other hand is busy with your other breast, pinching and pulling at your hardened nipple. Under him, you let out little moans and whines. The sounds he had only been able to imagine up until now were like a symphony to his ears.

Hanma didn't want to spend forever on your breasts, even though he knew he could. After giving them ample attention, he sits back; a sense of pride flows through him as he takes in each little mark adorning your skin. You look even more beautiful to him all marked up. He leans down to place another chaste kiss on your lips before moving to your panties.

The sense of satisfaction surges through him when he sees how they cling to your folds, a dark wet spot already soaking through. The sight gave him a high better than any drug.

"I knew you wanted this from the very start, you acted all coy but look at you now, soaking wet, and I've hardly touched you," his lustful voice fills the room's silence. "But fuck, I wish you were awake to experience every part of this."

You let out a quiet moan as his hand dips below your thong and circles your aching clit. He knows you were waiting for him to finally reach this part of you. His golden eyes watch every movement of your face, eyes screwed shut and little whimpers coming from your parted kiss-swollen lips. He can’t help himself; he was ravenous for another taste of you as he captures your lips in a heated kiss.

His fingers move faster on your swollen little bud, but he restrains himself before you fall over the edge. He has other places he wants you to cum. Another soft whine comes from your lips as he pulls his fingers away.

"My needy little one, don't you worry. There's more to come."

Hanma reaches down and pulls off your soaked thong, mouth-watering when he feels how wet they are. His large tattooed hands grip the soft skin of your thighs as he coaxes your legs apart. Settling your knees on his shoulder he presses his body against yours.

And like a starved man, he dives face first into your core unabashedly. The little whines and mewls falling from your lips only push him forward.

The taste of you is better than he ever could have dreamed. He would stay here forever between your thighs, tongue lapping at your juices. But he was limited on time; maybe he could spend a day in bed with you in the future–eating you out until you screamed. One of his large hands was on your hip, and he was delighted as he felt you wriggle beneath his palm with every long lick.

He could tell that you wanted more of him; you wanted all of him.

Continued mewls of pleasure spill from your lips, an angel singing to him. The hand that wasn't on your hip squeezes tightly to your thigh, leaving finger imprints in their wake. His other hand moved from your writhing hips to the little bundle of nerves aching for his touch. He rubs you in tight, fast circles as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

Hanma knows your orgasm was approaching quickly by the way you were moving more desperately below him, thighs clenching around his head. In a split second, he decides that he wants to make you cum on his tongue. His hand moves quickly away from your clit and pulls your other thigh away from his head as he fills you with his tongue. And all at once, you’re quivering, shaking beneath him. He continues to lap at you languidly as your juices cover his tongue. Golden eyes watch your expression, taking in every change so that he can commit it to memory. Your body goes limp below him again, but he's absolutely high on your taste and can't stop himself from lapping more of you up.

After his fill, he pushes himself off the bed to take all of you in. Your face is serene now as you lay in post-orgasmic slumber, but your body is littered with marks from his fingerprints, hickeys, and bite marks that send a sense of satisfaction through him. But the best part of evidence that was left on you was your soaked cunt, wetness glimmering in the room's low light.

The sight causes more blood to rush straight to his dick, already aching to be freed. He had to have you now. He quickly pulls off his dress shirt and unbuttons his slacks. Left in only his underwear, he gives you another kiss, short but he still manages to press his tongue into your mouth, hoping that you’ll be able to taste yourself when you wake up. His member is aching to be freed from its confines, as he schucks off his black underwear.

He runs two long fingers across your glistening slit to collect some of your essence. Hanma was obsessed with the idea of you tasting yourself when you woke up and he wants to make sure it happens.

Those fingers work their way into your mouth to coat your tongue with the transferred juices. Hanma is smiling sadistically above you as he shoves the digits deeper into your warm mouth. But he needed to get on to the main event.

Every moment he feels himself getting harder, the tip of his member an angry red color. He situates himself between your thighs, slowly rutting against your wet lower lips. A moan escapes him as his tip meets the heat of you. Opening your lips with two of his fingers, he swears he could orgasm on sight, seeing how your hole clenches around nothing. Hanma situates you by slinging your ankles over his broad shoulders.

Every moment had led up to this. Where Hanma would finally get his prize after waiting so long, after treating you so well, and after chasing so hard. He finally is able to fully sink into your warm heat, and it was more heavenly than he could ever have imagined. The sound escaping from his lips was gruff, coming from deep in his chest. You were warmer, softer, and wetter than any of his many fantasies. He couldn't stop his head dropping to your shoulder from the overwhelming feeling of it all, his black and blonde bangs brushing your skin.

He felt your unconscious body clench around his member, urging him to move again. After a few gentle thrusts, he builds up a punishing rhythm, each movement harder and faster than the last.

Nothing he has ever seen compares to the beauty of how you look being fucked. Tits bouncing in time with Hanma's thrusts, parted lips, letting out sounds little whimpers, and your face caught between a mix of serene and pain. God, he wishes he thought to record you, to have this in his possession forever. But maybe he would have that in the future when you come crawling back to him.

He could tell that both of you were close, though; his rhythm became lax with each tighter clench from your pussy. But he wants to feel the two of you climax simultaneously, to feel you milking his leaking cock as it releases into your womb.

He had to get deeper, and had to feel you even more. Hanma pushes your legs to your chest as a soft grunt falls from your lips and he continues to slam into you. With this new position, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust.

Your tight heat is wrapped around him, sucking him back in greedily. He knows you’re just at the tipping point, and he brings his gaze back to your face to see your expression when you orgasm. "Come on, baby, cum for me," He growls out, pushing as deep as he possibly could.

And like the good girl you were, you cum hard, snapping that tight coil inside you and bringing a wave of pleasure crashing behind it.

Hanma continues to fuck you through your orgasm, loving how your pussy clenchs and holds onto his cock. And not long after, he’s jumping off that ledge of pleasure, hot thick spurts of cum painting your plush walls. Hanma is panting heavily, trying to come down from his high.

No sex that he had ever had before compared to this. You were perfect for him. Made for him. And this only proved it even more. The way you held onto him and milked him, there’s no way you were meant for anyone else. He’s reluctant to leave your glorious heat but knows he has to. Pulling with a hiss but he’s delighted to see the mixture of cum seeping out of your aching hole. He leans up to give you one last quick kiss, a goodbye for now. He scribbles a quick note on the hotel notepad on the nightstand–call me adorned with a little heart.

Still going off of his high, he moves you under the comforter and begins to gather his clothes. Slowly dressing, he tucks himself back into his boxers and slips on his dress pants. And finally, puts his dress shirt back on before going to the bathroom to run his hand through his post-sex hair and fix it before leaving the room.

He looks at your slumbering body before stepping out the hotel room door and slipping the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle. Like a cat who had just caught a mouse, he struts proudly towards the elevators. He can't stop thinking about your perfect body the whole ride down. The little sounds that graced his ears when you came under him ring in his ears.

The loud ding announcing his arrival on the ground floor snaps his mind out of the thoughts that weigh heavily in his mind. But he doesn't let his composure slip as he waltzes out the glass entrance doors and hands his valet ticket to the young boy still working the counter.

As he waits, he pulls out the small rectangular pack in his pocket and a single slim stick–his other vice, besides you. He lights it effortlessly and takes a long drag, savoring the nicotine hit. As his car pulls up and the keys are given to him, he allows himself one last glance to the tall hotel, wondering when you’ll wake up and how long it will take you to reach out. A thrill rushes him at the thought, at you begging for him to come to you this time. Let the real chase begin. Is the last thing that crosses his mind as he speeds back home.

Thanks for reading!