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#these games are ones with multiple great moments
ganondoodle · 1 day
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it might seem like im just a totk hater, and to be fair, i AM, but its not bc i think its bad in every way- if it was all bad, ok, then its all bad and we can forget it happened and can all accept that-
but totk specifically hit the jackpot of -things that frustrate me so much i cannot let go and need to talk about it-
its part of my current hyperfixation (or whatever is the right word), botw is one of my all time favorite games, and that one had so many mysteries i was DEEPLY invested in, its got great music and some absolutely fanatstic moments, some ideas are great to fine, but it doesnt make sense, i hate time travel like little else in games, it constantly contradicts itself, the franchise, even its previous game its supposed to be a sequel to, i felt like i was made fun of by the game itself, for caring so much about what they had set up or done in botw, the moment i saw what they did to the shrine of life i felt so devasted i could hear people pointing and laughing at me for having cared about it, the writing treating me like i am so brainless i cannot connect dot one and two when there are only two dots in front of me labeld 1 and 2 that it then tells me to connect directly, to my face, multiple times, before showing me how to draw a line, its full, so SO FULL of missed opportunities, its got choices in there that are just nothing but frustrating bc there were a hundred other ones, i can see what you could do wit hthe basic ideas, theres people that worship it to a point you cant say anything even mildly critical, even about objectively bad things (there is no excuse for that godawful arrow menu) bc they will jump at you like a rabid animal-
i could go on but you get the point, never in my life has anything hit me like that
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lisbonsteresa · 1 year
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eating glass licking rust etc etc
#strawberries and cream pt 1 one of the most episodes that's for sure#multiple things about the vest scene; everything about the vest scene; don't get me started on the vest scene#(the way she's got a literal bomb strapped to her and he's still putting his hand on her back ----)#solved their problem by arguing and also being stubborn and willing to sacrifice themselves for each other#and him literally stuttering and dumbfounded in the dress scene and their hightower secret and THIS#(oh god the dress scene though 'i told her you always secretly wanted to be a bridesmaid' and yeah true great that you know that#but part of him also wanted to see her in a fancy little outfit; i've watched violets i know his game)#(WAIT 'it's job to keep you alive' -- 'if red john wants me he knows where to find me' wow what the fuck#the broken record in my brain: can't you see there's people who care about you? who need you??#you're being selfish and childish and i want you to STOP you unimaginable clown)#i'm being so serious when i say that this has to have been when they decided to actually explore doing something with them#because if not what IS this? the first half of your finale is basically the jane/lisbon show idk what you want me to say#(not to mention the libson-van pelt and the lisbon-cho and the lisbon-cho-jane moments i love this episode actually)#anyway: doing well!#tm#HEY WAIT the scene in pt 2 and then in like.....4.02? where the team comes together for jane and then for lisbon they're SO
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literalgrill · 4 months
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Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon
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You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.
The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.
I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:
Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨
We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.
However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.
A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.
Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.
Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad
i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…
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all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade
VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.
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I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.
It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.
Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.
I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.
It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.
So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo
I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol
To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo
One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol
Hunter R. Thompson:
I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it
The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.
I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.
Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]
Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.
Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.
The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:
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Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:
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Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.
Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.
Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.
Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.
Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?
Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.
Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?
Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.
Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:
It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation
aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.
Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...
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wileycap · 2 months
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So, uh, Netflix Avatar, huh? Yeah. I guess I'll make a really long post about it because ATLA brainrot has is a cornerstone of my personality at this point.
So.
It's okay. B, maybe a C+.
That's it.
Now for the spoilers:
The biggest issue with the Netflix version is the pacing. Scenes come out of nowhere and many of the episodes are disjointed. Example: Aang escaping from Zuko's ship. We see him getting the key and going "aha!", and in the next scene he's in Zuko's room. And then he just runs out, no fun acrobatics or fights, and immediately they go to the Southern Air Temple where he sees Gyatso's corpse, goes into the Avatar state, and then sees Gyatso being really cheesy, comes out of it, and resolves that conflict. Nothing seems to lead into anything. The characters don't get to breathe.
The show's worst mistake (aside from Iroh fucking murdering Zhao) is its' first one: they start in the past. Instead of immediately introducing us to our main characters and dropping us into a world where we have a perfect dynamic where Aang doesn't know the current state of the world and Katara and Sokka don't know about the past, thus allowing for seamless and organic worldbuilding and exposition, they just... tell us. "Hey, this is what happened, ok, time for Aang!" There's no mystery, no intrigue, just a stream of information being shoved down the audience's throats and then onto the next set piece.
The visuals are for the most part great, but like with most Netflix productions, they just don't have great art direction. It feels like a video game cinematic, where everything is meant to be Maximum Cool - and none of the environments get to breathe. It's like they have tight indoor sets (with some great set design) and then they have a bunch of trailer shots. It's oozing with a kind of very superficial love.
Netflix still doesn't know how to do lighting, and with how disjointed the scenes are, the locations end up feeling like a parade of sets rather than actual cities or forests or temples. As for the costumes, Netflix still doesn't know how to do costumes that look like they're meant to be actually worn, so many of the characters seem weirdly uncomfortable, like they're afraid of creasing their pristine costumes.
The acting is decent to good, for the most part. I can't tell if the weaker moments come down to the actors or the direction and editing, but if I had to guess, I'd say the latter. Iroh and Katara are the weakest, Sokka is the most consistent, Zuko hits the mark most of the time, and Aang is okay. I liked Suki (though... she was weirdly horny? Like?) but Yue just fell kind of flat.
The tight fight choreography of the original is replaced with a bunch of spinny moves and Marvel fighting, though there are some moments of good choreography, like the Agni Kai between Ozai and Zuko (there's a million things I could say about how bad it was thematically, but this post is overly long already.) There's an actually hilarious moment in the first episode when Zuko is shooting down Aang, and he does jazz hands to charge up his attack.
Then there's the characters. Everybody feels very static - Zuko especially gets to have very little agency. A great example of that is the scene in which Iroh tells Lieutenant Jee the story of Zuko's scar.
In the original, it's a very intimate affair, and he doesn't lead the crew into any conclusions. Here, Iroh straight up tells the crew "you are the 41st, he saved your lives" and then the crew shows Zuko some love. A nice moment, but it feels unearned, when contrasted with the perfection of The Storm. In The Storm, Zuko's words and actions directly contradict each other, and Iroh's story gives the crew (and the audience) context as to why, which makes Zuko a compelling character. We get to piece it out along with them. Here - Iroh just flat out says it. He just says it, multiple times, to hammer in the point that hey, Zuko is Good Actually.
And then there's Iroh. You remember the kindly but powerful man who you can see gently nudging Zuko to his own conclusions? No, he's a pretty insecure dude who just tells Zuko that his daddy doesn't love him a lot and then he kills Zhao. Yeah. Iroh just plain kills Zhao dead. Why?
Iroh's characterization also makes Zuko come off as dumb - not just clueless and deluded, no, actually stupid. He constantly gets told that Iroh loves him and his dad doesn't, and he doesn't have any good answers for that, so he just... keeps on keeping on, I guess? This version of Zuko isn't conflicted and willfully ignorant like the OG, he's just... kind of stupid. He's not very compelling.
In the original, Zuko is well aware of Azula's status as the golden child. It motivates him - he twists it around to mean that he, through constant struggle, can become even stronger than her, than anyone. Here, Zhao tells him that "no, ur dad likes her better tee hee" and it's presented as some kind of a revelation. And then Iroh kills Zhao. I'm sorry I keep bringing that up, but it's just such an unforgiveable thematic fuckup that I have to. In the original, Zhao falls victim to his hubris, and Zuko gets to demonstrate his underlying compassion and nobility when he offers his hand to Zhao. Then we get some ambiguity in Zhao: does he refuse Zuko's hand because of his pride, or is it his final honorable action to not drag Zuko down with him? A mix of both? It's a great ending to his character. Here, he tries to backstab Zuko and then Iroh, who just sort of stood off to the side for five minutes, goes "oh well, it's murderin' time :)"
They mess with the worldbuilding in ways that didn't really need to be messed with. The Ice Moon "brings the spirit world and the mortal world closer together"? Give me a break. That's something you made up, as opposed to the millenia of cultural relevance that the Solstice has. That's bad, guys. You replaced something real with something you just hastily made up. There's a lot of that. We DID NOT need any backstory for Koh, for one. And Katara and Sokka certainly didn't need to be captured by Koh. I could go on and on, but again, this post is already way too long.
It's, um, very disappointing. A lot of telling and not very much showing, and I feel like all of the characters just... sort of end up in the same place they started out in. I feel like we don't see any of the characters grow: they're just told over and over again how they need to grow and what they need to do.
To sum it up: Netflix Avatar is a mile wide, but an inch deep.
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wandasaura · 2 months
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LOVE IS A RUTHLESS GAME
summary — it’s been months since natasha’s submitted to her wife, but that’s about to change. you’re lucky enough to watch the entire scene unfold
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, the chaotic duo of lucky and fanny, sub!nat, sub!reader, face slapping, pussy slapping, edging, cockwarming, face sitting, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, dildo riding, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, delayed orgasm, orgasm control, mentions of exhibitionism, oral, bondage, finger sucking, cum eating, threesome, aftercare, men/minors dni
authors note — we’re not even going to address the fact that this was meant to be an entirely separate fic and that now i have to write a part two because it got too long to add any more. this is literal filth, but there are some cute/goofy moments + mean wanda
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
It was bound to be a great day when Natasha got a phone call from Yelena asking if she could watch Fanny and Lucky for a couple of hours; some work conflict having come up on short notice and Kate was already out of town. Those couple of hours had turned into an overnight arrangement rather quickly, but you were just happy that Natasha agreed to keep both dogs for the night and hadn’t sent the excitable pups back through the door they came in at when Yelena dropped the bombshell. 
Wanda was less than pleased to have not one but two dogs running around her perfectly kept house, and had turned her glare on Natasha multiple times because of it. It turns out that Kate and Yelena let the pups run wild, furniture wasn’t off limits and wiping their paws at the door was entirely foreign. You had looked at Wanda in sheer amusement when she’d tried to get the two tail-wagging pups to understand the concept of drying their paws before stepping onto her hardwood floors. They’d merely shook their coats and trotted past her, muddy paw prints adorning the couch seconds later. It was safe to say that Natasha was beyond the point of simply being in trouble with the Sokovian. The Russian had been tiptoeing around for hours, her eyes filled with unbudgeable worry as she scouted each room for Wanda’s presence before even considering entering fully.  
When Natasha appeared again, hair tied up in a bun and blue light glasses slipping down the slope of her nose, that same gleam of hesitance brimmed in her calculated green eyes. You were curled up on the couch, Fanny’s head on one thigh while Lucky’s head rested on the other. Your eyes were staring straight ahead at the television screen, an old movie you hadn’t seen in ages holding your attention, but the dogs had decided that giving Wanda grief since their arrival had officially tired them out. Lucky snored, you found out rather quickly. Fanny was quiet, but your heart ached when she whined every so often and the little paws folded beneath her shaggy belly twitched and jerked like she was trying to run. You didn’t know much about dogs, had never had much interest in having one of your own, but you could appreciate their warm comfort. The Sokovian that was being searched for had gone out back an hour ago, a book in her hands that was already half finished but rather lengthy. As she’d passed you on her way out, careful not to let the dogs out with her, she’d told you she wouldn’t mind an interruption if you wanted to join her, but Natasha had pointedly been left out of that invitation. 
“Where’s your girlfriend?” Natasha asked cautiously, fixing the black framed glasses so they sat on the top of her head, no longer needing them for the work assignments she left behind in her office. There was never any shortage of work to be done, never any space between deadlines and start-ups, but the women found a balance easily, something you admired as more than just their girlfriend. They were never CEO’s first. They were wives, girlfriends, sisters, friends, people. Pursuing a career in computer science has shown you the harsher sides of corporate companies and the intricacies that running a successful business entails. You’d shaken hands with too many sour old men that devoted their lives to the office and were somehow surprised when their wives left them. Wanda and Natasha would never understand how easy they made it look, and how inspiring they are, being successful women in positions of power. 
“My girlfriend, is she?” You quirked a single eyebrow, an expression you had more or less adopted as your own since the start of the summer. Seeing you wear an expression that Wanda practically owned never failed to make Natasha weak in the knees. “Getting a divorce that I don’t know about?” 
“After tonight? We might be.” Although Natasha was merely teasing, playing into the game that you had set up, you frowned at the genuine concern in her simple words. Yelena had put her in between a rock and a hard place, even if it wasn’t entirely intentional. She had definitely left out the part about needing someone to watch the dogs overnight on purpose, but Wanda’s reaction to the news wasn’t her fault. Natasha always checked base with Wanda before she agreed to anything that involved more than just herself, Yelena had no reason to assume anything different of today, but in the chaos of receiving the phone call only minutes before a virtual conference, it had fallen away from Natasha’s mind until the doorbell rang.  
You smiled sympathetically at Natasha, wanting to kiss the creased skin between her eyebrows until it was smooth and soft with ease, but you were effectively nap-trapped by the Golden Retriever and Akita who you didn’t really want waking up anytime soon. They’d finally calmed down, there was silence over the house again, and disturbing the peace felt like initiating a war. “Wanda will get over it.” 
“Wanda hates dogs.” Natasha rolled her eyes like that was the most obvious answer ever, which it was, you knew extremely well how passionate Wanda was about not liking or wanting a dog, but she didn’t hate dogs enough to completely walk away from Natasha. You sighed, deciding that disturbing the nap the two pups were taking on you was less important than resolving the rising issue between your girlfriends. 
Fanny yelped when you shrugged her head off of your thigh, but Lucky remained quiet and merely resettled into the cushions that were warm from where your weight had sat. You grabbed Natasha’s hand without any explanation, not that you needed one, but still she let you guide her through the house without questioning where you were leading her. Her expression grimmed when she spotted Wanda lounged beside the pool, a recently published law book in her hands that was nearly finished as she turned yet another page getting closer to the official end. You didn’t spare the time to admire how fast she read, merely slipped through the sliding glass door and dragged Natasha along with you. 
The door was closed quickly, because although Lucky and Fanny were seemingly content on the couch for the time being, probably missing their Moms as the hours rolled by and the heavy sun became lighter with dusk, you didn’t fancy taking the risk of them wandering outside to find where you’d gone.  
Wanda peered over the edge of her book, sunglasses that were no longer needed now that the unforgiving sunlight had become crisp with wisps of orange, perched on the top of her head in the same fashion as Natasha’s. They were eerily similar, always so in tune with the other even when the tide got choppy. There was no question about how or why they worked so well together, they just did. 
“Please tell your wife that you’re not going to divorce her.” You deadpanned, not even sparing Natasha a glance as you firmly addressed Wanda, who raised both eyebrows in question at your demand. Wanda’s eyes, sparkling beneath the sun, looked between you and Natasha with something unreadable deep beneath them. “She’s being unreasonable. That’s my job.” You pushed further, sensing that Wanda’s silence was around for the long haul if you didn’t make the severity of the situation known. Natasha was uncharacteristically not herself in the moment, and you despised every second of it. 
Wanda sighed, allowing her hands to relinquish the grip she had on her book. It fell onto her thighs that were warm from constant sunlight, the only shadow thrown over her illuminating body. “Natalia, don’t be dense.” She rolled her eyes, accent strong as the day she’d learned how to say her first sentence. The air was thin around the three of you, Natasha’s grip on your hand tight and unnerving. This was not the way Wanda addressed things, for a second you stopped to consider that maybe Natasha had a point to be so concerned, but that fell away when a whimper so soft it sounded like another tale that the wind tried to tell reached your ears. 
Wanda wasn’t annoyed. No, that is absolutely not what was going on. You’d thought she was, had every reason to believe that she was, until a ghost of a smirk splayed across her lips tinted pink from how many strawberries she’d eaten beside the pool. Their dynamic had been only a whispered thing, soft stories and recounts of the nights where Natasha gave herself over to Wanda, but in the almost year that you’d been present in their home and in their lives, you’d never seen it play out. You had no reason to when you were merely around to be a release for Natasha, but now you were their girlfriends, and it dawned on you harsher than the unforgiving sun that it had been months since Natasha relinquished control. This wasn’t about her being paranoid, this was about her wanting to be reprimanded, wanting to let Wanda take over. 
Wanda stood from the lounge chair, bowl of strawberries and her book the only things that said she was ever laid out at all. She was close enough to smell when her feet stopped carrying her forward, and you noted that she must’ve gotten a new perfume because there was something reminiscent of grapefruit lingering around her. You held your breath when Wanda’s palm connected with Natasha’s cheek, the slap sounding harsher than it was. You’d grown familiar with loud echoes after soft slaps, your ass had been discolored by them too many times. There was nothing that could’ve warned you about the harsh treatment, but Natasha didn’t waver behind you. Her knees didn’t fold like yours would have and her shoulders never shook like she feared the next hit. Slapping was a hard limit for you, but Natasha merely sighed at the contact of Wanda’s palm hitting cheek. 
“It’s been a while since I’ve played with you, hasn’t it, kroshechnyy tantsor?” Wanda cooed, a glint of danger breaching her eyes. This was not how she handled you. You’d seen her be harsh, cruel even, but she looked downright mean as the sun glimmered against every inch of available skin that already held a lingering tan. Natasha was allured by the look in her wife’s eyes, and you noticed that she hadn’t yet spoken at your side. 
“Is that what you want? You want me to play with you, milaya? Want our little duckling to know what a slut her Daddy is?” Wanda pressed further, edging Natasha right into a state that was only able to be categorized as submissive. You could hear the stories of their dynamic a million times a day, but nothing would have ever prepared you for the sight of it to be unfolding right in front of you; unfiltered and perfectly easy. “You can speak, milaya. Tell me what you want.” 
“Please, Wanda.” There it was, the first utterance of Natasha’s gravely voice in the minutes that it had been since you dragged her outside. It was light, airy even, softer than a million seeds falling from the pappus of a dandelion. 
“Detka,” Wanda looked toward you, her eyes so much softer than they had been as she peered into Natasha’s soul and dared her to push back. You hummed, inclining your head to the side in an expression that radiated innocence and submission. Even if she wasn’t playing with you, Wanda was still your dominant, you still felt she deserved to be shown respect as she floated nearer and nearer to one of her favorite headspaces. You adored every shade of green that lived within the Sokovian’s eyes, but there was something so captivating about the shade of Juniper that attempted to drown her pupils when she let herself hold all control. “I am not going to be soft with Natalia. You are welcome to join us in the bedroom, but if it gets too much for you, I expect you to leave. Do not stay because you think you’ll be able to handle it.” 
Your brain was a mess of spiraling thoughts, wondering the state that Natasha would be left in when Wanda was through with her, and the extent of which they played at all. There were so many unanswered questions that you hadn’t been at liberty to ask before, but now you had every right to know what turned your girlfriends on, and there was no way you’d be missing out on whatever the scene had to offer. Despite the heavy gears turning in your head that were effectively dampening your panties, you managed to nod your head albeit hesitantly and jerkily. “Okay.” You breathed out, earning a smile from the Sokovian and a tight squeeze of your hand from the Russian. “Are you okay with me watching?” You turned the question on Natasha, assuming that considering Wanda was the one who had extended the invitation she wasn’t opposed to your presence in the room as she unraveled all the tight knots Natasha had been putting into place. 
“Oh honey.” Wanda preened with an edge to her tone that had Natasha whining at your side, “Natalia is quite the fan of having an audience. My little slut thinks it’s quite the turn on to be the main attraction. Isn’t that right, shlyukha?” 
Natasha nodded quickly, her eyes clouded with lust and desperation that wasn’t unusual, but had never been so translucent. You wondered if you looked the same when Wanda had you beneath her thumb, pliant and eager to be ruined, but now was not the time for daydreams about your own submissive nature. 
“Oh.” A whispered response fell off of your tongue as your cheeks became hot with the presence of a blush that was a result of anything but embarrassment. Your stomach tightened at the information, imagining what scenarios had led to that discovery and how intensely they’d played into it. Natasha was not shy. She had no reason to be with her perfectly smooth and silky skin and tits that could win awards if there was ever such a competition to judge. She was breathtaking, you knew it and she knew it, but you’d never expected to hear that she was into exhibition. A sense of pride flooded your system when you could pinpoint the appropriate term on the tip of your tongue, Wanda’s mini lectures paying off. 
“Mmm.” Wanda hummed, a smirk on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she practically undressed Natasha. The woman was barely upright anymore, her knees weak as she readjusted her stance time and time again, and you weren’t oblivious to the way her thighs pressed together trying to relieve the ache in her core. If Wanda noticed, which she did, nothing was said about the vain attempts. “Detka, be a dear and help Natalia into the bedroom will you? I want her in a single-column tie before I get up there.” 
Natasha groaned beside you, her head as heavy as a ragdolls as it lulled back and faced the dwindling sunshine like a lonely sunflower would. The train of spiraling thoughts that had been running circles around your brain came to a halting stop at the request, a tinge of pink rising across your neck as you fumbled with your intertwined fingers, not even remember when you had dropped Natasha’s hand, or maybe she had been the one to drop yours, “I don’t– What is that?” 
Wanda, patient as always, merely smiled and inclined her head toward Natasha, an expectant hardness lingering within her sage stare that was darkening by the minute in tune with the depleting sunlight across the sky. It wasn’t cold by any means, still in the warmer months of summertime, but the air around you felt frigid either way. The only thing that could bring warmth back to your body was the touch of your girlfriends. “Natalia will show you. Won’t you, malen'kaya shlyushka. You’ll show our duckling how you like to be restrained to the headboard?” 
“Yebat.” Natasha whimpered, her eyes flickering toward you, filled with desperate longing that didn’t seem to be Wanda’s main concern at the moment. You gnawed at your bottom lip, your eyes hooded and dark, twinged with lust that was steadily growing. “Yes.” Natasha exhaled, eyes flickering back up to meet Wanda’s when the lawyer shifted her stance and inclined her head expectantly. 
“Good girl.” Wanda’s praise was curt and dismissive, not filled with warmth and satisfaction that you had grown so used to in recent months. You found yourself frowning, because even if the praise hadn’t been intended for you, you still hung onto her every word. Wanda, ever observant, didn’t fight the fond expression that slipped across her features as she turned her sharp gaze to you.  “You’re a good girl too, moya utenok. Now go help Natalia. I’ll make sure the ties are okay, Natty won’t get hurt. I just want you to try your best. Okay?” Despite not recognizing the anxiousness that settled in your belly amidst the desperation that brewed simultaneously, the proposition of being the one to restrain Natasha had worried you, but your shoulders relaxed at Wanda’s assurance that your attempt wouldn’t be the final verdict if she found anything less than perfect with the knots you bound her wife with. You nodded, a whispered response filling the air that separated your body from the Sokovians. 
Natasha grabbed your hand, whether it was to steady herself or to ground you, you weren’t entirely sure, but you laced your fingers together and set your course back toward the house where Fanny and Lucky were waiting at the sliding glass door. You’d forgotten about the four legged pups since coming outside, but their hot panting that dirtied the glass implied that they hadn’t forgotten about you. You didn’t try to keep them inside as you slipped in, figuring that keeping them away from the breakable indoors while the three of you were otherwise occupied was the best plan of action if you were going to save Wanda a heart attack. 
“Natalia!” Wanda’s voice was precisely projected as it reached both yours and Natasha’s ears, the thickness of her accent wearing slightly as she forced the words through her diaphragm carefully. It was still a wonder how many years the lawyer had spent in the United States, but it had been enough to ease the traces of home out of her tone naturally. “YA khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda.” 
Natasha’s breath stuttered in her chest, and though you were picking up on the simple terms of endearment that they uttered to you routinely, you understood nothing of the sentence that had been just loud enough to settle through the space you occupied. Natasha did however, and when she closed the sliding glass door and guided you deeper into the house, she whispered shortly against the shell of your ear, “Wanda’s trying to kill you.” 
You paled slightly at the confirmation that whatever Wanda had requested, had been in regards to you. Unable to predict what the lawyer could have wanted, you didn’t think to ask, not wanting any distractions that would interfere with the ropes you were instructed to bind. The bedroom was saturated in darkness when you entered through the door, curtains drawn and lights switched off. The only sounds that suggested the room was occupied came from yours and Natasha’s footsteps, but even they were softer than usual. The energy that Wanda possessed had taken its toll, and both of your bodies were eager for sensations that only the Sokovian had the authority to grant. 
Natasha reached for the light switch, drenching the room with artificial brightness that tore shades of cream from the pillowcases adorning the bed. Traces of you lingered across every expanse of space, the room no longer just theirs but yours. Yours to share gentle kisses concealed by darkness in. Yours to sing and dance in when rain pelted the widows and work had been forgotten. Yours to share these intimate moments. Yours. Just yours. 
Natasha tilted her head toward the closet, a space you had grown familiar with for more than just the necessity of needing an outfit in the morning. Your hands reached for the black case that you knew held instruments and toys for a scene like this, but you were stopped before your fingers could ghost against the smooth material. Instead, the Russian reached toward a shelf above the racks of suits and dresses, grabbing a red leather briefcase bound securely by a silver combination lock. Natasha placed it on one of the lesser occupied shelves, her fingers working at the black engraved digits with a practiced ease. 
Despite the submission that you had seen from Natasha minutes prior, she looked down at you with dominance that was familiar and welcomed. Her voice was stern as she spoke to you quietly, not even sparing a glance at the lock that she continued to work open. “We don’t want you in this case unless we tell you. What’s in here is not for you to be playing around with. The combination is our birthdays, I trust that you won’t go snooping around where you don’t belong without permission.” 
“Okay.” You whispered a response, finding that you were practically incapable of speaking at any other volume, entirely consumed with the weight of their presence and not wanting to disturb it. “Natty?” You peered up at your dominant, knowing that tonight was about her but unable to clear the lingering bliss in your head as you looked at her with nothing but sheer admiration. 
“Yes, dorogaya?” Natasha smiled at you softly, her hand reaching to cup your cheek though the tips of her fingers were chilled slightly from the metal she’d been grasping at. You didn’t shy away, leaning into her touch as she let herself be consumed with only you, not the promise of being tied to the bed and fucked into oblivion. “You still okay with watching? Neither of us are going to be upset if you need to leave. Wanda and I don’t have the same rules as we do with you.” 
You shook your head adamantly, wanting her to understand that their hot and heavy dynamic was not the cause of your soft question. “I’m okay. Just wanted to say I love you.” 
Natasha smiled, kissing you softly in the dimly lit closet. The only light that penetrated the space came from the bedroom, but you didn’t need additional light to see the affection in her eyes. “I love you too.” She murmured against your lips, but as quickly as your sacred moment had come, it fell away and your attention was on the case that Natasha pulled open with eager fingers. 
The case, although small, held toys and items that made your eyes bulge and your belly quiver. A collection of knives wrapped pristinely in thick black leather occupied a small fraction of the briefcase, beside it three half melted candles with wicks the color of coal. A pink dildo with a suction cup attachment at the base caught your attention, wondering why it had been displaced from the rest of the dildo’s and strap-ons that the slavic women owned. You didn’t recognize anything else in the case; a bundle of rope that you assumed would be used to restrain Natasha, multiple thin link chain attachments, and an instrument that almost resembled a pizza cutter but the blade was prickled with sharp nubs that looked rather dull. Your eyes searched for Natasha’s, but she was busy rummaging through the case for something unspoken about. Your breathing shuddered when she collected a small bottle of lube in her hands, passing it over to you with a wink. 
She grabbed the dildo and the rope next, closing the case just as quickly as she had opened it although the seconds it took her to find the objects she wanted felt like agonizing minutes. Her eyes, submissive and hazy, found yours in the dimly light brightness of the closer, a soft incline of her head pointing in the direction of the bedroom. “Come on.” You nodded jerkily, following her back into the master bedroom where Wanda’s presence still lacked to be. 
Natasha didn’t head for the bed like you’d been expecting, she headed for the single chair in the corner of the room that had never seen an ounce of attention from the women who preferred to hang around in the living room where sunlight bled in at every angle. You gasped when she stuck the dildo to the seat of the chair, almost a grimace in her face when she turned to look back at you. Although she proceeded to explain what Wanda expected of you, there was no need for an explanation. The bottle of lube in your hands wasn’t for her, it was for you. Another rush of excitement sparked in your belly like connecting live wires, and you barely concealed your whine when Natasha began to strip out of her clothes, leaving them in pristine piles on the nightstand. The lace panties were the last to leave her body, deep red and thin as they slipped down her legs and pooled at her feet with glistening wetness visible across the center. You swallowed thickly, eyes caught on the sight of her core that, although mostly concealed by thighs that you wanted around your head, glimmered distinctly beneath the overhead light. 
Your eyes trailed upward, drinking in the sight of her tensing abs that had only been so prominent last summer; the summer you arranged to be her submissive. Natasha found it easier to work out in the summer, when the weather was inviting and the workload lulled. Her hours spent in the home gym hadn’t been in vain, and the ripples in her muscles held your attention for longer then they should have. You didn’t want to pull your eyes away from her chest, where the sienna color of her breasts became rosy at her nipples that were pebbled and eager for stimulation. Another shuddering breath slipped into the space, but as easily as you’d lost your composure Natasaha was strapping you back into it and handing you the rope. 
She laid starfish on the bed, her swollen and glistening core fully in sight as her thighs spread to allow access to whoever pleased to touch her first. Wanda had said nothing about binding her legs, and the almost silky rose in your hands wouldn’t reach to tether them down. Natasha, head thrown back against the pillows and red curls spilling across them, looked at you expectantly with intense green eyes. Never had this much control been placed on your shoulders, but you wouldn’t disappoint either one of them. Your thighs straddled Natasha’s waist, your chest falling in front of her face as she raised her arms and instructed you through the process of restraining her the way both she and Wanda liked. A whimper fell from your lips when Natasha leaned forward to mouth at your nipple through the thin t-shirt you wore, her hips grinding upwards and forcing sensations of pleasure through your core. You faltered on top of her, panting for breath as you tried to keep your attention on the ties you were making across her wrists, though it proved difficult when her teeth settled firmly around your nipple and tugged. 
“N-Nat.” You whined, hips rocking with their own intention as you dropped your hands to the pillows and let yourself enjoy a single moment of the pleasure she was provoking. Your clit throbbed, your panties are drenched and clinging to your core. You were certain that if Wanda chose this moment to come up the stairs, the sight of you would be painfully erotic. Natasha fully naked, you fully clothed, hips grinding and thrusting and broken moans of pleasure echoing off otherwise silent walls. She could destroy you even beneath you and partially immobile, you were no longer blind to that fact. “S-Stop.” As much as you didn’t want her to, you weren’t sent upstairs to give pleasure and earn pleasure, and the thought of Wanda having a reason to punish the both of you was not a fire you wanted to start at the moment. 
Natasha did stop, but she hummed in disappointment as her head fell back against the pillows, framed by your wrists and hands that still braced the majority of your weight. The knots around her wrists were as good as you would be able to get them without any further instruction, but you had no idea if they were good enough for Wanda’s standards. You didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the potential failure, able to hear the door sliding against the track and the softness of Wanda’s voice as she told Fanny and Lucky to stay. 
“Do they feel okay?” You checked in softly, peering down between your arms to assure that her face gave no indication of discomfort. The Russian didn’t respond, instead pulling at her arms and humming something that was inaudible with her teeth grinded together and lips pursed tight. “Nat, I need you to tell me if they feel okay.” There was panic in your voice that pulled Natasha back into the moment, eyes searching yours before she realized that the soft sounds Wanda made as her feet braced the hardwood were growing closer and closer. Her footsteps weren’t yet on the stairs that led to the room you occupied, but close enough to remind you both of how you weren’t in the positions she’d requested. 
“They’re perfect, detka.” Natasha smiled encouragingly, bucking her hips beneath you once more, though this time the action was a reminder to shuffle off of her and settle yourself on the fuschia toy that was admittedly an eyesore within the neutral toned room. Your clothes came off in sloppy movements, not folded neatly like Natasha’s as they piled onto the floor and became wrinkled. The bottle of lube was unneeded with the thick ropes of arousal that clung to your inner thighs, a whine ripping from the back of your throat as you eased yourself onto the toy but forced your hips to remain still, not having Wanda’s permission to ride it just yet. You felt exceedingly full, each groove amongst the shaft pushing against the sensitive interior of your tight channel. Your eyes fluttered closed when you sucked in a breath, jostling your body just enough to earn a sweet sensation of pleasure within your velvet walls. Your eyes had been closed when Wanda entered, but they snapped open at the sound of Natasha mewling on the bed. 
When your eyes found the Sokovian, she was leaning overtop of Natasha, both knees digging into the mattress beneath her though it barely sunk with her additional weight. Her fingers were adored with glimmering rings like they always were, though now they threaded into the intricate knots you had made with the beige colored rope and pulled tightly. She hummed her satisfaction when she found nothing wrong with the structure of the ties, juniper eyes searching for yours as she smiled proudly. 
“Good job, little duckling.” She praised sweetly, though the words dripped with danger as she possessed that same glint of passion in her eyes that had appeared beneath the sunset. “I didn’t know my sweet girl would be so skilled at tying her Daddy up.” Your core pulsed around the toy in your core, wetness seeping into the smooth faux leather beneath you. A whimper fell off your lips before you could keep it in, and Wanda’s lips twinged into a smile of fake sympathy. “I bet that pussy’s so full, malyshka. Why don’t you tell Natalia how good you feel, this poor little pussys aching for the same treatment. Isn’t that right, slut?” You gaped at the resounding slap that echoed off Wanda’s palm as she let her hand fall across the Russian’s hot cunt, wetness glistening beneath the light as the Sokovian pulled her hand back to inspect, toying with the arousal that remained on the expanse of her tinted pink skin. “So wet. Did you enjoy having your little girl tie you up, Natalia?” 
Natasha moaned desperately, her hips chasing after Wanda’s hand that wasn’t willing to repeat the former action. Her head bobbed against the pillows, curls becoming frizzy and wild from the frantic  nod that became the only answer she provided. Wanda, seemingly satisfied with Natasha’s chosen silence, turned her gaze back to you, the demand to share your experience heavy in the silence.
Your cheeks, pink and flush, became hotter at the premise of vocalizing the sensations that were admittedly dull with lack of any major movement. “You’ll learn very quickly that I do not ask twice, milaya. Use your words before you earn the same rules as Natalia.” You didn’t know Natasha’s rules, they’d never been discussed, but her silence was enough to guess that she wasn’t allowed to speak without permission. 
“It feels g-good. I feel so full, N-Nat.” You cried out, hips twitching for movement that you wouldn’t allow. However short your explanation was, Wanda seemed pleased as she turned her attention to Natasha, who up until this point, had received the bare minimum. 
Wanda’s fingers sought out Natasha’s nipples, and although yours remained untouched and entirely fine, you winced at the force behind her synchronous tugs. Natasha’s back arched off the bed and into Wanda’s hands, either an attempt to seek more or to lessen the sting entirely. The wanton moans that fell past her lips like a symphony were indicative of the pleasure the action had provided, and although her legs weren’t bound, you didn’t miss the twitch of her muscles as she strained to remain still. 
Your core pleaded for more, walls fluttering around the intrusion of the toy that you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. The stretch felt intimidating, and so eagerly you wanted to bring your hips upward only to sink back down and accept the presence again. Your nails dug into the arms of the chair, knuckles white from the strength of your grip. Across the room, Wanda was tongue deep in Natasha’s mouth, the only sounds that existed around them being the wet smacks of lips losing suction and gasped breaths. Natasha, with her hands bound, fought against the restraints trying to reach out and touch Wanda, but her efforts failed each time she pulled, the knots unwilling to loosen enough for her hands to slip through. Wanda pulled away with a pleased hum, her fingers back at Natasha’s nipples as she twisted them harshly in tune with the other. 
“Please.” Natasha cried out, writhing on the bed as her legs closed tightly, slick thighs rubbing together in an attempt to bring even an ounce of pleasure over her desperate body. Wanda wasn’t pleased by her efforts, hearing the slap land on Natasha’s cheek before you could process seeing it. Wanda was quick, efficient and cruel, but Natasha wasn’t backing down. The lawyer wriggled and thrashed on the bed, a symphony of Russian falling off her tongue as she kept her eyes wide and on Wanda. 
“Do not make me remind you of the rules, Natalia.” Wanda growled lowly, her voice thick with traces of an accent that suited her well, but only worsened your fate as you tried not to let your restraint crumble, wanting desperately to be good for her. You whined on the chair in the corner of the room, unable to stop yourself as you watched Wanda strike Natasha a third time, the Russian a moaning mess beneath the Sokovian as her cheek took on the faintest handprint of pink. “Is there something you need, moya utenok?” 
“C-Can I– Please–” Your desperation had finally won over, and even without Wanda’s permission your hips grinded and thrashed against the leather beneath your thighs, guiding the dildo into that perfectly spongy part of your walls with ease. The sounds of your arousal were embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as she laid stiff and still beneath Wanda. “Please?” 
Wanda hummed thoughtfully, but when she spoke, your blood ran cold with dread and shame. “It seems neither of you need my permission anymore.” She gave you a pointed glare, and your hips stuttered to a stop, no longer searching for pleasure as you shrunk beneath her glare. “Is that what you’d like, moya utenok? For Mommy to let you do whatever you please?” 
Frantically you shook your head, eyes wide and brimming with tears that had no reason to fall but gathered against your waterline anyway. You hated the mere idea of that ever happening, and you were in no mood to test the truth behind her implication. “No! No Mommy!” You pleaded with her, aware of how pitiful and distressed you sounded as your cries shattered the silence. Natasha, though still beneath the fog that had gathered at the forefront of her mind in the face of Wanda’s brutal ministrations, nudged her knee upward, shaking her head at Wanda when the attention fell back down to her. 
When Wanda’s eyes returned to you, they were softer, greener, filled with a gentle affection that had been impossible to find second earlier. “Do you want to ride the dildo, moya lyubov’?” Her voice was softer, kinder, taking on the tone she’d always devoted to you alone. It was a complete turn around from how she’d been addressing Natasha, but the presence of her accent hadn’t wavered. 
“Please Mommy!” You cried out, unsure of how many minutes you’d been impaled by the thick toy, but enough for the sun to have completely settled beneath the moon and taken its warmth with it. The window was open beyond the pulled curtains, a lingering breeze sweeping past your naked skin before it fell short of the bed where Wanda and Natasha remained entangled. The Sokovian’s hands were braced on the Russian’s abdomen, thighs around her waist squeezing tightly and restricting movement. 
“Go ahead, dorogaya. Let me hear those pretty sounds whilst I see how many edges my little slut can handle before she’s begging for mercy.” Wanda smiled eerily sweetly, casting her eyes back down to Natasha who was flush with arousal and the beginning of a grimace. “How many was it last time, hm? Ten?” 
“Eleven.” Natasha corrected, her eyes wide and pleading as she maintained eye contact with Wanda, her fingers twitching as she remained bound to the headboard that you’d thought was going to snap with the might of her struggles. “Wands, I want–” 
“I don’t care what you want, Natalia.” Wanda quipped before the rest of the sentence could ever exist outside of Natasha’s scrambled thoughts. The Russian nodded frantically, swallowing thickly in complete submission but even her reclaimed silence wasn’t enough to satisfy Wanda who pinched the skin of her thigh until she winced and moaned needily, entirely unmade and pliant to be shaped into something new; something a little bit like you. “What do I keep you around for?” 
“To please you.” Natasha’s voice was breathy and soft, the willingness to fight that had begun to swarm within her eyes that tinted a shade similar to evergreen entirely dismantled, replaced by a desire to submit without hesitance. 
“Dumb little sluts do not get to decide how I take my pleasure. Do not make me regret not gagging you.” Wanda scolded, and Natasha was eager to nod her head in understanding, whimpering into the near-silent room when her obedience was rewarded with a single finger circling her pebbled nipple. 
Your hips grinded against the dildo buried deep within your pussy, guiding it across your slick walls near perfectly each time. Wanda’s eyes were transfixed on Natasha, but every few minutes she glanced back at you, and when she did, you could only whimper. In the minutes that it had taken to accomplish such a satisfying pace, Wanda had eased her mouth down to the spot where Natasha needed her most, tongue not daring to be kind as it circled and flicked at the throbbing bundle of nerves that had pleaded for attention since the start. Shattering moans and whispered pleas fell off of Natasha’s tongue, but each time the Russian grew too close to the edge, Wanda pulled away and her hand slapped harshly against Natasha’s cunt. 
At the seventh edge, you’d never seen Natasha so beside herself. Pear shaped tears fell down her perfectly rosy cheeks and dampened the pillow cases when they eventually dripped off her unblemished skin and landed silently against the cotton covers. Her wrists had grown red from the relentless writhing and pulling, but her attention was solely on Wanda who offered no break. Three fingers worked the Russian open and scissored her wide, never fully pulling out before they slammed back into her at a pace so brutal it would be no surprise if she felt the aftermath for days. Your own orgasm was drawing closer as you watched Natasha submit and Wanda claim, and each snap of your hips only further invited it along. 
The eight edge had Natasha wailing, throwing her head back as her hips jerked upward and chased after Wanda. Like every time before, the Sokovian voiced no sympathy, and her hand came down heavy and punishing against the swollen skin that adorned ropes of arousal. Natasha yearned for more, her face begged for Wanda to repeat the simple action of slapping her cunt, but just like the seven times that had come before, her unspoken request was denied. 
“So pretty when you cry for me. Moya khoroshen'kaya malen'kaya shlyukha. Is that what you are? My pretty little whore?” Wanda teased cynically, juniper no longer a shade amongst the blackness of her eyes entirely dilated by lust adorned pupils. She looked entirely ravenous with her hair tousled and chin glimmering with Natasha’s arousal. 
“Y-Yes.” Natasha cried out desperately, her voice scratchy now as it reached your ears. Your hips continued to stutter against the dildo, but without permission to cum, you forced away the growing tension that pulled at every muscle in your belly and begged for relief. 
“Let me hear you say it.” Wanda pushed further, the tips of her fingers tracing the softest shapes into the slickness across Natasha’s inner thighs. 
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation that crossed Natasha’s face before she was desperately crying out, “I’m your pretty little whore! P-Please Wanda! Please!” 
“So fucking desperate.” Wanda tutted, a single finger sweeping through Natasha’s folds, though she pointedly avoided the Russian clit that throbbed for even an ounce of attention. Wanda was off the bed in seconds, coming straight at you with her glistening finger outstretched. You didn’t need to ask what she wanted, leaning forward to accept the arousal soaked digit into your mouth with eyes as wide as saucers the second she was close enough. 
Wanda hummed, pleased with your desperation, a fond smile pulling at her lips. “Good girl, malyshka.” She groaned at the feeling of your tongue sucking her fingers clean, your tongue lapping across the expanse of her knuckles as she pressed against your tongue, not hard enough to force you to gag, but enough to make your brain fill with static pleasure. You jumped when hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, leaning into her despite your skin not yet touching. “I know you want to cum, sweet girl. You’ve been so good waiting for Mommy’s permission, I didn’t forget about you. You can cum whenever you want, but that’s it. You don’t need to keep up with Natalia.” Wanda whispered so softly against the shell of your ear you questioned if she was even real. The harshness that she had addressed you with before entirely dismantled. You leaned your forehead against her shoulder, panting as your hips hadn’t stilled on the toy saturated with your arousal. Although the dildo was suctioned to the chair, one of your hands forced it to remain at the perfect angle between your thighs, and each time you drove your hips against the toy, your clit caught on the knuckle of your thumb only spurring you further into a frenzied state as you chased the orgasm you were finally allowed to have. 
Wanda’s touch was gone far too soon, but your eyes traced her steps as she retreated back to Natasha. The redhead was beside herself as she wiggled and squirmed, chest heaving breaths that weren’t quite full. Wanda didn’t hesitate to restart her efforts at working Natasha toward relief, though this time she was much less graceful. Her fingers provoked squelching sounds from the tight cunt they occupied, her arousal coated tongue flicked unforgivingly and quick. Natasha looked like the rawest depiction of beauty as she cried out and whined, desperate to tangle her fingers into Wanda’s hair but to no avail did she succeed. 
It had taken you only minutes to reach a high that had your toes curling and your thighs trembling. Without the grip of either of your girlfriends steadying your hips as you came crashing through your orgasm, your body jerked and writhed for more and less simultaneously. A melodious whine fell off the tip of your tongue before it was overshadowed by a moan that had your lips vibrating at the reverberations. Every muscle in your body tensed before it became nothing but jelly, leaving you a heap of sweat and arousal on the chair suddenly feeling very naked and exposed before the rapidly cooling breeze that snuck in through the open window behind you. Natasha’s eyes were locked on you, her head turned toward the side as she took in the sight of your self-inflicted orgasm. In the year that you had been involved with the Russian, she’d never allowed such a thing. You’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to pleasure yourself in all the best ways, but that wasn’t really what happened anyways, you’d followed all of Wanda’s instructions, you’d waited for permission to fall over the edge, even without the touch of another, you’d never really been in control. 
Your peace was shattered by a sharp and exceedingly needy while falling off of Natasha’s lips, her gaze snapping back toward where Wanda was perched between her thighs as another orasgam ended before it even started. You almost felt bad, almost. Although you weren’t even able to imagine the kind of torment that came with being edged in the same room as your girlfriend that had permission to cum whenever she wanted, Natasha wanted this. It was hard to feel sympathy for a woman who walked herself into a trap and had been the very one to close the door. A smile splayed across your lips when Wanda slapped her cunt, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came soon after when Natasha rattled off the long list of curses she knew in English. Your orgasm had brought a new sense of clarity over your once hazy mind, and now the actions that had seemed so cruel and ruthless, merely resembled affection and mutual trust. Natasha was a strong woman, but she was seemingly a slut in the same breath.
Wanda’s eyes met yours, glimmering with something sharp as a smirk replaced the permanent thin line that sat on her lips whenever Natasha was the focus of her attention. There was amusement clear in her eyes, something twisted lingering beneath the surface that you longed to know the reason for. “You find something funny, malyshka?” 
Revived from the pliable state that you’d fallen beneath at the first instance of Wanda’s unfiltered dominance, your eyes lingering on Natasha’s face for barely a moment before you returned your gaze to Wanda and feigned perfect innocence. “Natty bit off more than she can chew.” You stated simply, aware of how you were betraying the woman that you yourself had bound to the bed, but more aware of the fact that Wanda seemed pleased with your admission. 
“That she did.” Wanda hummed, her fingers toying with Natasha’s sopping entrance that begged for more, but she wasn’t willing to give in. “Come here, my little duckling.” Wanda inclined her head toward where she was perched between Natasha’s thighs, and although your legs felt like jelly beneath you, you didn’t hesitate to comply with the demand. Your breath stuttered when the dildo finally slipped out of your pussy, the veiny grooves rubbing against every hypersensitive inch of your walls. None of the other dildos had such prominent veins, and although it was admittedly one of the smaller toys you’d taken since beginning a relationship with Wanda especially, you felt painfully empty without it inside of you. 
Your steps were wobbly and slow, reminiscent of Bambi if you remembered correctly, but Wanda was in no rush to have you at her side and so she waited with an encouraging smile on her arousal drenched lips. It was warmer beside the bed, that was the first thing you noticed when you’d finally reached where Wanda laid. The wind didn’t dip so far into the room that Natasha felt the chill cold, yet you wondered the response she’d have to being encased by the soft breeze. She was responsive as it is, a shift in temperature was certain to have her mewling for something that wasn’t allowed just yet. 
“Since you find Natalia’s position so funny, detka, I want you to edge her while I ride her face.” Wanda smirked, and suddenly you weren’t finding Natasha’s position so funny anymore. Being allowed to eat either one of them out was the ultimate privilege, something you almost always had to beg for, but now it was being offered without bait, yet it came with a price that felt too steep to pay. Having to deny Natasha an orgasm sounded absolutely horrible. All you ever wanted to do was make her cum quickly and effectively. Wanda was aware of how eager you always seemed to be at the proposition of feeling either of their orgasms on your tongue, and either she’d forgotten that, or she didn’t care at all. 
“But– Wanda!” You whined, desperately hoping that you’d change her mind, but you knew the reality of your situation; either you got on your knees and complied with her request, or she carried on doing it herself. No matter your decision, no matter if it was your tongue or hers, Natasha wasn’t seeing an orgasm until she’d surpassed her last record. 
“Not so funny now is it, milaya?” Wanda grinned like the cheshire cat, and you properly felt like a scolded child beneath her wild stare. You shook your head adamantly at the question, a smile no longer ghosting across your bitten lips as you looked between her and Natasha’s pink and swollen cunt. It was properly abused, fucked out and dripping onto the sheets yet still begging for more of what she wasn’t yet allowed. “What’s your choice, utenok? My little sluts running out of patience.” Her word was true. Natasha looked ready to crumble at any minute, her eyes bouncing between you and Wanda with nothing but desperation in her heavy gaze. 
“Do I have to edge her?” You whispered timidly, looking pleadingly up at the Sokovian. Wanda didn’t respond, merely quirked an expectant eyebrow down at you and shifted her position. You sighed, shoving her out of the way in a manner that was less than graceful, but thankfully it went unreprimanded. 
“Good choice.” Wanda hummed, already standing beside the bed and stripping eagerly out of her clothes. Her skin was tinted with lingering traces of the sun, thin lines adorning her shoulders from where bathing suits had forbidden the kiss of daylight. She looked entirely ethereal as she shimmied out of her own black panties, letting them pool around her ankles for merely a moment before she kicked them away and took her place overtop of Natasha. Her thighs framed the Russian’s face, individual freckles adorning her shins and thighs begging to be kissed and fawned over, but no such thing would happen tonight. With a sharp request for Natasha to stick her tongue out, she sank herself lower and lower until her pussy made contact with the hot and ready muscle. “I’ll tell you what, moya lyubov’,” Wanda began, a cynical smirk on her lips as she grinded her hips against Natasha’s face, dampening the flush skin with her arousal. “if you can get Natalia close with only your fingers, I’ll allow her to cum when I do. If you can’t, we add four more edges.” 
“B-But I want to taste her!” You cried out, looking at Wanda with wild eyes that begged her to fold, but she wouldn’t. This was the kindest she’d been all evening and yet it was still so painfully cruel. 
“Well that’s a shame, sweetheart.” Wanda pouted, but her words were anything but sincere as she rocked against Natasha’s tongue and drug her clit against the textured surface, falling into bliss the longer she kept up with her ministrations. 
You whined, settling on just using your fingers, not able to bring yourself to edge Natasha even further, or at all. Even if she was merely your girlfriend in this moment, all you ever wanted to do was cause pleasure, not be the one to take it away. Your fingers brushed through her folds gently, but Natasha still flinched away and tried to close her thighs. Your body between her legs forbade her from doing so, leaving her entrance easily accessible. You winced yourself, knowing that your fingers were frigid against her hot and worked up cunt, but you didn’t give her the chance to grow accustomed to the feeling. Wanda wasn’t slowing down, and you knew she’d be cruel enough to force you to stop if she were to cum before Natasha grew close. You set a brutal pace, not sparing pleasantries like you’d typically do. Your fingers curled against the softest spot of Natasha’s walls the way you knew she enjoyed, and you committed the sound of her squelching pussy to memory. You’d seen her wet before, you’d gotten her wet before, but you’d never taken the time to unravel her the way Wanda had. She was properly soaked, sheets drenched and darkened beneath her trembling thighs. 
The pad of your thumb found her clit when her walls tightened around your fingers, rubbing skilled circles against the sensitive bud that begged for release you hoped you could provide in time. You didn’t offer praises, didn’t let encouragement slip into the silence filled by only Wanda’s moans as hers became muffled against the cunt riding her face. You were certain they’d fall on deaf ears at this point, entirely positive that Natasha was too far gone into Wanda to even hear you utter her name. Instead, you encouraged her with the pressure of your thumb against her clit and the punishing speed at which you pumped your fingers in and out of her cunt. You had her right on the edge, right at the point of coming apart completely, but Wanda wasn’t close. In your overzealous attempt to match the pace in which the Sokovian had set, you walked not only you, but Natasha into a trap. 
“Stop.” Wanda demanded, and you had no choice but to comply, your fingers coming to a halting stop within Natasha’s cunt that was so desperate for something sweet. You whimpered at the feeling of Natasha’s velvety walls fluttering around your fingers, her clit throbbing beneath your thumb as her hips squirmed wildly on the bed. There was no way you’d be sleeping here tonight, not with Wanda’s insurance that you never sleep on sheets that aren’t perfectly clean. “I’ll give you another chance, moya lyubov’, do not let it go to waste again.” Your eyes snapped up to hers, unsure of whether it was yet another game she was playing, but when her head tilted the the side and her lips pursed, whether it was to hold back her own moans or to intimidate you, you weren’t entirely sure, you knew she wasn’t. 
You nodded frantically, all attempts to get Natasha to the edge resuming, and it wasn’t a hard feat. The Russian was sensitive, so slick your fingers had almost slipped out, but she was already climbing that hill of pleasure again beneath your thumb and around your fingers. It took seconds, mere seconds to have her at that perfect place again, but unlike the last attempt, Wanda was right along with her. The Sokovian moaned as her head fell backward and her hips stuttered, Natasha’s binded hands unable to provide support like she otherwise would’ve. You didn’t wait for permission to fall from Wanda’s lips between her broken moans and breaths, tripling the efforts you’d already set in place to get Natasha thrown off that cliff and into bliss. Your tongue found her clit the second she toppled over, soothing the harsh sensations that you’d previously provided. You moaned at the first taste of her on your tongue, licking and sucking at every expanse of sensitive skin until she was writhing beneath you for an entirely separate reason. 
Your fingers fell away from her cunt at the first indication of oversensitivity, but your tongue kept up its pace, licking her out until you were certain that not an ounce of arousal clung to her skin anymore. That wasn’t enough for you however, and your tongue lapped at the arousal that dampened her thighs, licking it away with eager swipes. At some point, Wanda had eased herself off of Natasha’s face and had begun to undo the binding around her wrists, but you hadn’t realized the Russian was free of her restraints until calloused hands gently reached for your face and pulled you up to see her eye to eye. 
You looked absolutely ravaged with her arousal clinging to your chin and lips, and a blush across your cheeks from your own orgasm. Eagerly you crawled up onto the bed fully, only faintly aware of the ache in your knees and back from the position you’d been laid in as you unraveled her completely. You straddled her lap when she guided you into doing so, your arms twisting around her neck before you dug your face into her shoulder, hiding away from the light. 
“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, voice muffled by her shoulder but she’d understood you perfectly, her hand coming up to stroke along the back of your head as she held you in place. You were vaguely aware of Wanda walking back into the closet, but you didn’t question what she was searching for, content to just be back in Natasha’s arms.  
“Just let me hold you, malyshka. You did such a good job for us.” She praised you quietly, her voice scratchy and raw from the hours of screaming she’d done. You hadn’t realized how much time had slipped away since she’d guided you into the closet by your hand, but the clock on the nightstand hadn’t lied to you yet, and the illuminated numbers indicated that two hours had been devoted to breaking Natasha down. 
“I should be telling you that.” You huffed, curing further into her body, desperate to encase yourself in her warmth. Natasha didn’t mind, letting you curl around her like a little koala as she held you sweetly in the center of the bed. “I never wanna edge you again.” You mumbled against her neck, turning your head so you were pressed directly against her, your soft breaths tickling the sensitive skin of her ear. 
Natasha laughed at your admission, and a gentle finger guided your chin up so your eyes could meet fully and properly for the first time in hours. “You ever edge me again, your ass will be over my lap before you can even say your sorry.” There was no bite to her words, but you never wanted to find out if she was being serious, so you merely nodded quickly in response. “I know Wanda scared you earlier. She gets lost in her head sometimes, she didn’t mean it.” Natasha soothed, but you’d already figured that her words from hours ago weren’t honest. They’d assured you at least a hundred times that the only way you were ever getting away from them, is if it was your own carefully thought over decision. 
“I know.” You whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against Natasha’s in a soft kiss. It was the softest touch she’d felt in hours, and eagerly she leaned into it, giggling at the taste of her own arousal when your tongue brushed against hers. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” You murmured against her, giggling when her lips curled into a grin and she peppered kisses across every inch of your face that she could reach in this position.
“Ya tozhe tabya lyublyu.” She mumbled back, her eyes dancing behind you when Wanda reappeared from the closet. You settled against Natasha’s chest, not wanting to leave her embrace anytime soon, and it didn’t feel like she wanted to let go either. Your eyes fell upon Wanda, who at some point, had thrown a t-shirt on and tied her hair back up into its once occupied messy bun. You made grabby hands at the woman, an action that you had recently learned she could never deny. 
“Privet, moy sladkiy malysh.” Wanda smiled fondly, coming to join both you and Natasha in the mess of sheets. You hadn’t noticed the clothes in her hand before, but you watched as she sat two t-shirts down on the pillow cases that were still damp from Natasha’s tears, and a bottle of cooling lotion quickly joined the pile. She snuggled close against Natasha’s side, her fingers tangling into the Russian’s hair in the same soft and tender way you’d grown accustomed to. “What do you need, Natty?” She asked softly but received the same answer that you had, Natasha just wanting the both of you close for a while. 
Wanda sighed softly, already beginning to detangle herself from Natasha’s arms. “Let me put lotion on your wrists, then I’ll give you both all the cuddles.” 
Natasha groaned, her stubborn attitude already peaking through the surface level haze that twinkled within her eyes. “They don’t even hurt that bad, let me hold you.” 
“You say that every time, and every time I listen to you, you make me get out of bed at three in the morning.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but affection was clear as day in her tone as she didn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “Hug your duckling, she deserves some cuddles for being such a good girl.” Wanda winked at you, and you blushed beneath her smothered praise, hiding your face in Natasha’s chest much to both of their amusement. 
“The best girl.” Natasha pressed a kiss into the top of your head, her lips lingering for longer than necessary, though you weren’t complaining. You settled against her chest, watching Wanda unscrew the cap on the lotion and squeeze a generous amount onto the palm of her hands. Tentatively, you reached your own hand out, wanting to help ease Natasha’s pain in any way possible. Wanda didn’t question your action, squeezing the tiniest pea sized dollop onto your fingers and instructing you to be soft, but make sure that it was all evenly applied. 
Natasha gazed down at you with tender softness in her eyes as you gently took her wrist into your hands and rubbed in the lotion. She couldn’t help the tears that glimmered in her waterline as you eased yourself into her aftercare routine without hesitation, just another part of their life that you so easily integrated into. You beamed up at Wanda when you were done, giggling when the Sokovian kissed the tip of your nose and praised you softly. 
It wasn’t until you heard Lucky bark through the open window that you remembered about the dogs that were still outside and probably hungry by now, the sun having faded into darkness hours ago. You looked between Wanda and Natasha, a crease in your brow as you asked, “Um, do we even have dog food?” 
malen'kaya shlyushka – little slut
ya khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda. – i want the duckling on the pink strap by time i come in
privet, moy sladkiy malysh – hi, my sweet baby
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smileysuh · 9 months
Text
rogue
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🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.” Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.
tw/cw. protected sex, pussy eating, blow job, deep throating, swallowing, oral (f/m receiving), exhibitionism (sex at a lover's lookout on the hood of his car), multiple sex scenes, Wonwoo's broad shoulders #confirmed, teasing through panties, hair pulling, breast worship, mutual orgasm, night terrors, mentions of a bad past, cuddling, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. 70's collab
🍭 aus. 70's au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I've been missing Wonwoo, and when his spot in the collab was open, I figured why not?
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It’s an hour into the date and you already wish you’d stayed at home. A walk through the town followed by bowling had sounded like a great way to get to know the location you’ve just moved to- however, the guy showing you around is something of a wet towel.
He looks cute enough, but then again, your housemate had promised he would. His name is Carter, and he’s just over six feet tall, with blonde hair, a worn jean jacket, and a nice smile. You’ve tried to give him the benefit of doubt, you really have, but there are some guys you simply can’t force a spark with, and unfortunately, he’s one of them.
When you reach the bowling alley, Carter holds the door open for you, and you flash him a small smile, entering the space. 
“Are you excited?” your roommate, Mary, asks. She links her arm with yours, stepping away from her own date to give the boys a moment to talk by the front door while she drags you further into the establishment.
“For bowling?” You look around. “Sure.”
“Carter’s nice, isn’t he?” she presses.
You sigh. “Sure.” 
Movement catches your attention, and your gaze shifts to a man working behind the shoe counter. He’s in a dark green sweater, and his black hair shines in the light of the bowling alley. Now he is someone who interests you, and you find yourself tugging on Mary.
“Let's grab shoes,” you tell her. 
“Welcome to the bowling alley,” the worker greets you with a smile, and you find that his face is even more handsome while lit up with a friendly expression. “Have you two been here before?”
“I have,” Mary answers for you. “But she’s new to town, so this is her first time.” Your housemate nudges your shoulder and you swallow thickly, nodding.
“It can’t be much different from the bowling alleys in my last city,” you offer.
“You’re right about that,” the pretty man nods. “What size shoe can I grab you?”
You and Mary give him your sizes and he leans down, retrieving the shoes from under the counter. When he passes them over to you, your fingers briefly touch, and your gaze darts up to meet his own. 
There’s a very brief pause, a frozen moment that feels like forever, and then he’s tugging his fingers away. 
“How much do we owe you?” Mary asks. “For a game?”
“You two are on a double date, aren’t you?” the man asks.
“How could you tell?” you laugh, feeling a little dejected that being out with Carter might dissuade this pretty man in front of you from seeing you as a girl who’s on the market, which you most definitely are.
“I can always tell these sorts of things,” the worker grins. “I’ll let your dates pay when they stop talking by the door and come for shoes.”
“You’re new in town too, right?” Mary asks suddenly, eying the man behind the counter up and down.
“How could you tell?”
“I feel like I’d remember you,” Mary insists. “Besides, most of the guys in this town would have let us pay. You strike me as a good one, someone not from here.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the worker nods.
“What’s your name?” you ask suddenly, feeling the urge to know it, if even to know him better.
“Wonwoo,” he says, and suddenly coming out tonight feels like the best possible thing you could have done with your time. 
You tell him your own name, and he smiles softly at you.
“Enjoy your date,” Wonwoo muses, nodding to the two men who have now come to grab their own shoes.
It sucks to be reminded that you are, in fact, on a date with Carter even while partially drooling over Wonwoo. With a small sigh, you follow Mary to one of the free alleys. There are new mechanized automatic scorer machines, and Mary types in the nickname ‘Baby’ for herself, before nudging you to write in your own. 
“Choose something cute,” she tells you, watching over your shoulder.
You punch in the nickname ‘Angel’ and she nods, satisfied. 
“Now for Carter, put in Big Guy, and my date should be named Handsome,” Mary insists.
“Are you sure they won’t want to choose their own nicknames?” you ask.
“Who cares what they want?” she shrugs. “I think they’ll like these names.”
With a sigh, you do as you’re told. Your dates approach, and you all slip on your shoes, slotting your discarded runners under the bench you’re sitting on while Mary stands up to bowl first.
It’s a nice establishment, and there’s a Beatles record playing that gives the space a nice ambiance. However, no matter how hard you try, your attention keeps slipping back to Wonwoo.
He’s seated in his little work table station, and you catch him staring back at you a few times when you try to casually look over your shoulder at him. 
When Carter moves closer,  resting his arm around you, your gaze is quick to dart to Wonwoo, who laughs, looking down at the makeshift paper airplane he’s playing with in his hands.
You get the sense that he’s amused by your interactions with Carter, who lays on the affection more and more as the date continues. In fact, Carter even stands up to show you how to bowl properly, and despite your attempts to squash his so-called ‘help’ he still ends up flattening against your back and guiding you on how to hold your arm when you toss the ball down the lane.
You’re starting to have enough of Carter, and the temptation to go talk to the person you’re really interested in gets the better of you. “Do you guys want drinks?” you ask, addressing your foursome.
“A coke!” Mary chips. 
“Make that two,” says her date.
“How about four?” Carter asks, pulling out his wallet to hand you a bill. “Unless you want me to come with you to grab them?”
“No, it’s your turn to bowl. I’ll manage,” you assure him.
He gives you a look that tells you he doesn’t quite believe you, but you’re already running away with his money in your hand. Your eyes are fixed on Wonwoo, who straightens up as you approach.
“Did I hear something about four cokes?” he asks.
“You have good ears,” you muse, nodding. “And yeah, four cokes sounds good.”
“Coming right up,” he smiles, heading from the shoe area to the location they keep beverages. There’s another worker in that section, but he’s so busy playing crossword he doesn’t even look up when Wonwoo begins messing around and grabbing glasses.
“So…” you watch the gorgeous man work, enjoying the way he pushes up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms. “Looks like we’re both new in town.”
“Looks that way,” he agrees. 
“How are you liking it?”
“You know, the Pacific Northwest is never somewhere I thought I’d end up,” he admits, looking at you while filling the cups with coke. 
“Really?” You assess him up and down. “Are you not a big fan of trees, mist, and small mountain towns?”
“Not a fan of mosquitos,” Wonwoo grins.
“Okay, now that I can understand,” you laugh. 
“How’d you end up here?”
“I’m not sure,” you say honestly. “I’d driven through this place a few times, and when I decided I needed to get away from my parents, it felt like a good intermediary location.”
“So you’re not planning on staying here forever?” Wonwoo cocks his head.
“Definitely not.”
“Does that big guy you’re on a date with realize this isn’t a forever thing?” 
You let out a small laugh, turning to look at Carter, who is glaring daggers at Wonwoo. “My date’s not even a this week thing,” you admit.
“No?” At this point, you think Wonwoo is purposefully taking his time filling the cups, and you enjoy getting to chat with him. “Why’s that?”
“He’s not my type.”
“He’s tall, blonde, buys you things, holds doors open, offers to show you how to bowl…” Wonwoo counts up Carter’s virtues. “Sounds like the kind of guy any girl in this town would die for.”
“And you’re an expert on what women want?” You cock a brow at the worker. 
“I guess not,” Wonwoo admits. “You tell me then, what’s your type?”
You think on it for a moment, then grin. “Cute guys, with dark hair, who wear soft looking sweaters, and work in bowling alleys.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Wonwoo simply stares at you. Then he swallows thickly, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with effort. “Can I take you out sometime?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’ll just need to grab your landline number-” Wonwoo begins to explain, but you’re already reaching for a napkin.
“Pen?”
“One sec,” Wonwoo turns and plucks the pencil out of his coworker’s hand, and the man looks up from his crossword in shock. “I’ll give this right back,” Wonwoo promises before handing it to you.
You scribble down your landline number. “I live in a house with two other girls, so you’ll have to ask for me by name,” you explain, signing the napkin just in case he forgets.
“You got it,” Wonwoo grins, accepting your number when you’re finished with it. 
“I work evenings,” you explain, “so call in the afternoon, okay?”
“Definitely.” He grabs two of the drinks. “Now let me help you carry these back to your friends.”
“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” you smile, picking up the other two cups and beginning to walk back to your bowling lane while Wonwoo follows.
“Sometimes,” he muses. “I try.”
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It’s been less than twenty four hours since Wonwoo met you and he’s already feeling eager to call. His shift is going slow, and as noon rolls around, he finds himself inching closer to the telephone. 
The napkin with your digits is practically burning a hole into his pocket and he pulls it out gingerly, careful not to damage it in any way.
“I’m gonna take a five minute break,” Wonwoo calls to his workmate, who simply nods while completing his crossword. Wonwoo doubts anyone will come in while he does this, but at the same time, he’s not looking to get fired from this shitty job anytime soon.
He begins to dial your number into the phone that hangs on the wall behind the till, and when he’s done, he presses the handset to his ear. His fingers begin to play with the wirey chord, and he looks down at his shoes while it rings.
“Hello?” a feminine voice answers, and Wonwoo is quick to realize it’s not you on the other end of the line.
“Uh, hi,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “I’m calling for y/n?”
“One second,” the girl on the line yells your name loudly and Wonwoo nearly drops the phone from the shrill noise of it all. “Oh, and who’s calling?”
“Tell her it’s the bowling alley guy,” Wonwoo says dumbly. He’s not sure if you’ll remember his name, and he wants to make things easy for you.
“Bowling alley guy?!” The woman sounds excited. “I met you last night! I knew y/n was flirting with you- I knew it!”
“Uh… yeah?” Wonwoo’s really not sure what to say to women most days, let alone during a conversation like this one.
“Poor Carter,” the woman sighs. “He’s going to be devastated.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wonwoo lies. He thinks it feels like the right thing to say, so he says it. 
“Mary, give me the phone.” Now that is your voice, and Wonwoo perks up, holding his breath while he hears a murmured exchange. “Wonwoo?”
“Hey,” he smiles. “Uh, yeah, it’s me.”
“You work fast, don’t you.” He can hear the grin in your own voice and it makes his widen.
“I’m not the kind of guy who plays games or anything,” Wonwoo tells you honestly. “I was really happy to get your number, so I thought I’d call.”
“I’m glad you did.”
There’s a pause while Wonwoo builds up his courage.
He’s done many things in his life, things that people would say were much harder than asking a girl out, and yet, he finds himself becoming tongue tied just talking to you. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and counting to three, like they’d taught him how to do in the military before doing anything that might be considered drastic.
“Are you still interested in going out sometime?” he asks. 
“I’d love to.”
His heart skips a beat.
“What were you thinking of doing together?” you question.
He had definitely not thought that far ahead, but he can’t back down now. He scrambles for date ideas, and the first one in his head is, “How about I take you to a roller rink.”
“A roller rink, huh?” You let out a small laugh and he worries he’s suggested the wrong thing.
“We can do something else if you want,” he immediately back pedals.
“No, a roller rink is good,” you assure him. “But I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it.”
“Well… you can hold onto me if you’re afraid you’re going to fall.”
“You know what? I just might,” you giggle again and the sound makes his entire body buzz with happy energy.
He’d never thought when he moved to this stupid small town in the Pacific Northwest that he’d meet a girl like you, and he hardly even knows you yet. 
Wonwoo truly can’t explain his attraction to you- it’s simply a feeling he has. Sure, you’re gorgeous, but there’s something deeper, something he can’t put his finger on. He wants to figure you out, and he can’t wait to discover what makes you tick.
“When are you free?” Wonwoo asks.
“Well, it’s Monday now, let me just check my schedule again,” you’re silent for a moment except the sound of a paper flipping. “I generally work Friday through Tuesday, so how about we say Wednesday or Thursday?”
“Wednesday works,” Wonwoo says, pulling out a pen to write it into his own schedule book he keeps in his back pocket.
“Are you that eager to see me?” 
He can hear your smile again, and he can visualize it in his minds eye. God, you’re beautiful.
“Maybe,” he admits. “For a town that mostly gets rain, it’s nice to see a little sunshine every now and again.”
The line is quiet, and he worries again if he’s said the wrong thing. Then you let out a shaky laugh. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
“Not usually,” Wonwoo says seriously.
“No?” you tease. “So you don’t use your job as a place to hit on girls?”
“Never.”
“That’s good to hear.” 
“What time should we meet? Or do you want me to pick you up?” Wonwoo is simply eager to get the details solidified in his notebook, to get things written in stone so to speak.
“I live close to the roller rink, so how about we meet there? Does seven sound okay?”
“Works for me,” he nods, eyes shifting to the front door of the bowling alley where a customer has just walked in. “Look, I gotta go-”
“Me too, have a good shift Wonwoo. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
He can’t fucking wait.
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You’d chosen one of your cutest outfits. Mary had even whistled when you left your room in the denim pantsuit number, her eyes skimming down to the flared pant legs. “So this is what you wear when you really like a guy,” she’d mused. 
You’d done a small twirl, showing off how great the pants make your bum look, and she’d warned you that if Wonwoo got handsy, he’d have her to deal with.
“He’ll be fine,” you’d assured her. “He’s a nice guy.”
“You don’t even know him,” she’s pointed out, and you suppose there’s truth to that. However, at the same time, you just feel like Wonwoo’s not someone who’s a threat, not to you anyways.
He seems like a nice guy, a genuinely nice guy, and excitement surges through you as you make your way to the roller rink.
Wonwoo meets you outside, and you note the way his eyes widen as he looks you up and down. He has the decency to make the motion quick, and you think it must be an automatic reaction, one he’s even ashamed of, because his cheeks flare a pretty pink colour.
He’s absolutely adorable. 
Like Carter had, Wonwoo pulls out all the stops. He holds the door open to the rink for you, and pays the small fee to enter. The two of you trade your shoes over and he even bends down to help you tie up the laces on your roller blades, checking to make sure they’re not too tight.
“Have you don’t this before?” he asks as you rise on shaky legs.
“Once,” you admit, noting the steadiness he has in his form. “Have you?”
“Never, but I’ve got good balance,” Wonwoo smiles softly at you.
“I’ll say,” you laugh, shocked at how well he’s holding himself up while you’re wobbling already. 
“Here,” he holds out his hand, and you take it, grateful at the extra stability you gain by having him next to you. The two of you make your way to the side of the roller rink and you watch couples going around in circles. 
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the speed and ease at which the other people are moving.
“You can do it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I won’t let you fall.”
“Promise?” You squeeze his hand.
“Promise.” He squeezes yours back, and then he takes a step onto the rink, looking back at you.
You take a deep breath before following him, grabbing at his arm with your free hand. The rink is much more slippery than the carpeted floors had been, and you marvel again at Wonwoo’s balance.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you ask in shock.
“Positive,” Wonwoo grins.
“I don’t believe you,” you laugh, letting him pull you along as you get the hang of being on roller skates.
“You don’t have to believe me,” Wonwoo muses, turning so he can hold both your hands. He’s moving backward now, and you think he must be lying to you. “You just have to focus on your feet.”
“While you focus on what? You’re skating backwards!”
“I’m focusing on you,” Wonwoo says softly, flashing you a small smile. 
“You and your charming words again,” you shake your head, enjoying the way he makes you feel.
“Only for you,” Wonwoo muses, guiding you around the roller rink. “Look, now that you’re not thinking about it so hard, you’re doing better.”
“I’m doing better because I’m holding both of your hands and you’re steadying me,” you counter.
“Take your small win,” Wonwoo advises you. 
“No,” you say stubbornly.
He only laughs at your antics. “Do you think you can do it with one hand again?”
You consider letting go of his fingers, and part of you doesn’t want to, but you know he should probably be skating next to you again, watching where he’s going, so you concede. “Fine.” 
“How often do people usually skate for?” Wonwoo asks suddenly.
“Are you bored already?” you laugh. “We just got here!”
“Not bored,” he smiles. “Just thinking that it would be nice to go grab milkshakes after this.”
“That would be nice,” you admit. “How about this, I’ll tell you when my legs start to hurt and we can go then? Or if I fall, I think we should call it quits.”
“Deal,” Wonwoo laughs. “Although, I hope you know, I’d never let you fall.”
He squeezes your hand gently, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest.
Wonwoo is such a charmer, but you don’t mind one bit.
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You find yourself in a diner not an hour later, and your thighs are burning from the roller skating exercise you’d not been used to. “Are you more into chocolate, or vanilla?” Wonwoo asks suddenly, his gaze fixed on the menu in front of him. 
“I like them both, what do you think we should get?” 
He looks up. “You mean… we’re going to share one?”
“Were you thinking of ordering two?”
“I mean…” his skin flushes that pretty shade of pink and he lets out a small cough. “I uh…”
“We can order our own,” you tell him, wanting to smooth the miscommunication over. 
“No, we should share one,” he insists, looking determined. “Whatever flavour you want.”
“Are you sure?” you cock a brow at him, and he gives you a curt nod, jaw set.
The waitress shows up and you order your favourite milkshake. Wonwoo fiddles with the menu that’s been left on the table and you take the opportunity to assess him.
He’s a bit of an enigma. 
He’d seemed so confident when you’d first met him at the bowling alley, but now that you’re on a date with him, he has these shy moments. He’s endearing, and you can feel yourself falling for him, which is kind of scary to admit to yourself.
The milkshake is set between you, two straws sticking out of the whipped cream topping. 
“Thank you,” Wonwoo says politely to the waitress, who simply nods and scurries away, giving you some privacy for your date.
You and Wonwoo move toward the straws at the same time, and your hands brush as you both reach for the cold glass.
“Oh,” Wonwoo immediately retracts his hand. “Sorry, you go first.”
“You’re cute,” you tell him. “Don’t you want to sip together?”
“Can we do that?”
“Of course, silly,” you laugh. “Come on, lean in.”
He eyes you as if you’re tricking him, but after a breath, he follows through. You both lean over the table, and you reach for your straw, bringing it to your lips while Wonwoo does the same.
He’s so close to you, and he’s even prettier at this short distance. His eyelashes are particularly enthralling, and his dark brown eyes look rich and warm in the diner’s light. 
Wonwoo’s gaze dips down, and you watch him try to hide a smile while you both take your first sips of the milkshake.
Then, you’re pulling away again, and Wonwoo’s reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I have to admit,” he sighs, “I don’t do this often.”
“What, date?” you cock your head to the side, assessing him.
“Uh… yeah,” he nods. 
You’re a little shocked at how a guy as cute as he is can get through life without being asked on numerous dates a week. “Are you not looking for a relationship, or…?”
“It’s not that,” Wonwoo assures you, swallowing thickly. “It’s just, my last job made it sort of impossible.” 
“Yeah? And what job was that?” you ask, taking another sip of your milkshake.
Wonwoo lets out another chuckle, but this one isn’t very humorous. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“Wow, a mystery boy- it wouldn’t have to do with an underground cartel working out of a bowling alley would it?” you tease.
“Definitely not,” he smiles. 
“Are you really not going to tell me?”
“Not tonight,” he shakes his head, and you realize there’s no use pressing him on this.
“But maybe another night?”
“Maybe,” he nods. 
“Then let's talk about something other than work,” you suggest. “Have you gone fishing around here? I know this town has some really good rivers and lakes in the forest around here.”
“I’m not a fisherman,” he tells you.
“Do you not have the patience for it?”
“Not the patience so much as the willingness to hurt the fish.”
“I’ve heard it doesn't hurt them.”
“Sure you have,” Wonwoo smiles to himself. “Also, I don’t eat fish, so it would be a waste.”
You like getting to know him. He’s a peculiar man, and every detail you find out only makes you more interested.
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After your milkshake, Wonwoo had insisted on walking you home. “You never know what creeps are out at night,” he’d told you, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders to protect you from the September air.
You’d talked about books, schooling, hobbies and such, and Wonwoo had been the one asking you the majority of the questions as you’d slowly made your way home. He’s even more secretive than you’d initially realized, and you wonder what details you’re even going to give your friends when you debrief them on the date later.
“So this is mine,” you say when you come to a stop in front of your rental house.
“Can I walk you to your door?”
You look up at your home then back at the pretty man. “I don’t see why not.”
You notice his ears are flushed, and you get a sense that he might try to kiss you. Each step towards your door feels like an eternity, and your heart is racing in your chest. 
Coming to a stop on your doormat, you turn to look at Wonwoo. “I should give you your coat back.”
“Keep it for next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time?” You cock a brow.
“There better be,” he laughs. “Unless.. Unless you don’t want to go out again?”
“I’d love to see you again,” you assure him. Your gaze shifts down to his mouth and you find yourself licking your lip, biting it between your teeth as you wait for him to make a move.
You notice that his eyes are also shifting down, and you hold your breath.
He leans forward-
The door to your home is thrown open and Mary is standing there. 
Wonwoo practically jumps away from you, and Mary grins wickedly. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she smirks.
You sigh. “Mary this is Wonwoo, Wonwoo you’ve met Mary.”
“Right, yeah, of course,” he nods. “How’s your night been?”
“Not as good as yours it looks like,” Mary says sassily. “We’ve been waiting on our third to watch a girls movie, unless she was about to invite you in.”
“Mary,” you whisper a warning.
“Looks like you’ve had no such luck, pal,” Mark laughs. “Thanks for walking her home.” She grabs your hand and tugs you into the house. 
“I’ll call you,” Wonwoo promises. 
You push Mary into the hallway before leaning out the door, getting close to Wonwoo again. “You better,” you smile, a sudden rush of courage surging through you as you lean forward to press your lips to his cheek. “Goodnight.”
He’s smiling as you pull away, and you’re struck by how beautiful he is. “Goodnight,” he echos.
“Get home safe,” you warn.
“I always do.”
You watch him walk away, and he stops on the sidewalk, turning to give you one last wave before you close your door.
“He’s cuter than Mary said,” your third roommate, Jessica, notes from the living room as she watches him head down the street.
“He’s very cute,” you agree, tugging his jacket tighter around your form. 
“Are you two having another date?”
“Yup-” you suddenly realize you’d never gotten his number. Which means Wonwoo truly has complete control of contacting you again.
The jacket still wrapped around you is something like insurance that he will call, but you’re a touch saddened that you’ll have to wait for him to find the time to reach out.
He’s a good one, and you really don’t want to let him off the hook just yet.
“So tell us about your date!” Mary grins, jumping onto the couch. “Is Carter really out of the running?”
“Carter has nothing on Wonwoo,” you laugh. 
“I really don’t see how that’s possible-”
“Mary, if you like Carter so much, you should date him yourself,” you point out. “I don’t know, Wonwoo is just- he’s a good guy. I really enjoyed being out with him. He held me up at the roller rink and we shared a milkshake-”
“That’s original,” Mary scoffs.
“It was cute!” you insist. “I need a bit of cute in my life,” even if he does joke about having to kill you if he tells you about his last job. 
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When your phone had rung at noon on Thursday, you’d jumped at the idea it might be Wonwoo, but it had only been the diner you work at, asking if you could cover a shift.
You suppose you need the money, but as you manage the small dinner rush, you find it hard to take your mind off of Wonwoo. You keep replaying the small moments in your head, how he’d held both your hands to help you rollerblade, moving effortlessly backward, or how you’d both leaned in for the milkshake, noses almost touching.
The kiss that could have been feels fresh in your mind, and you’d given Mary a royal talking to about opening the door at the moment she had.
What would he have tasted like if you had kissed him? Would his lips have been as soft as they look? Would he have grabbed your hips and tugged you close to his chest?
You’re so busy thinking about Wonwoo that you almost don’t realize he’s walking past your diner until he comes to a stop, staring at you through the window while you take a couple’s order.
You nearly drop your notepad, only to snap yourself out of it and finish scribbling two burgers with extra cheese. “Can I grab you anything else?” you ask, forcing your gaze to shift to the customers. 
“That’s it for now,” the man smiles, and you scurry off to give the cook the order.
Your back is to the front door of the diner, but when you hear the bell ring, you know what you’ll find when you turn around.
Wonwoo looks a little windswept, and he’s wearing glasses today. 
He looks so handsome you could die.
“Hi,” you smile, approaching him and fidgeting with your apron. 
“Hi,” he grins. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Sometimes, usually on Thursdays, which, now that I think of it, didn’t you say you weren’t working tonight?”
“You have a good memory,” you breathe. “I uh, picked up a shift.”
“I’m glad I walked by, I was almost going to skip coming in and get a burger from the joint down the road.”
“Andy’s Burgers?” you ask in shock. “No, no, no, you have to have one of ours. They’re much better.”
“I wasn’t planning on sitting in to eat, but what the hell, can I grab a booth?”
“Of course,” you wave at the open seating. “Anywhere you’d like.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo smiles at you, turning to slip into one of the blue and white coloured booths. 
You’re quick to go grab him a menu, and you scurry over, heart racing in your chest. “So how’s your night going?”
“Better now,” he grins. “I actually uh, called you an hour ago, and no one answered-”
“We’re all working tonight,” you muse.
“I’m glad I caught you.” There’s a sincerity in his words and it makes your skin heat. “I probably shouldn’t be asking you about this while you’re at work-”
“Ask anyways.”
“How do you feel about going for a drive on our next date? I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything.”
There have been a string of unsolved murders lately, and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t concerning you, but at the same time, the missing women are half a country away, in New York. 
You cock your head, assessing Wonwoo. “Are you sure about that, mister ‘if I told you about my last job I’d have to kill you’?”
“You know what, fair, out of context, that sounds very ominous-”
“I trust you,” you insist. “A drive would be great.”
“How do you feel about Sunday?”
“Sunday works, I get off at eight.”
“Perfect.” Wonwoo plays with the menu in front of him. “Should I pick you up here or at your place?”
“Let’s say eight thirty at my place, I want to get dressed up for you.”
Wonwoo grins, gaze shifting down at the table. He pushes his glasses up his nose, then he eyes you again. “I think you always look pretty.”
“Really? Is this a nice apron?” You tug at the material wrapped around your waist and Wonwoo’s grin widens.
“The nicest apron I’ve ever seen.” 
“I’ll send my manager your regards,” you tease. “What can I get you for dinner?”
“A bacon cheeseburger, please.”
God, you love a man with manners.
“Any drink?”
“Just water, thanks.”
“The burger comes with fries, is ketchup okay?”
“It’s perfect.”
“I’ll be back with your order shortly,” you smile, finishing up on your notepad.
“Take your time,” Wonwoo assures you.
As you move away to the kitchen to put the order in the window, you get the suspicion that Wonwoo’s watching your ass. Hell, you hope he’s checking you out. 
With so few people in the restaurant, and burgers being a fairly fast food menu item, you find yourself serving the couple their dinner in no time. It’s almost torture to not look over at Wonwoo, to know he’s watching you work.
You bring him his water and you take the opportunity to chat with him again. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
“I usually wear contacts,” he tells you.
“Right, I heard about that new brand that came out. Are they any good?”
“I could see you pretty well last night with them in,” Wonwoo smiles.
“Good. That outfit was meant to be seen.”
“It sure was.” 
Flattery will get him everywhere- but before you can say anything else, the kitchen bell dings, signifying an order is up. When you turn your head, you see Wonwoo’s burger sitting in the window. “I’ll be right back with your food,” you assure him, scurrying off.
As you’re bringing Wonwoo his plate, a family enters the diner. Your attention is effectively transferred to them, no matter how much you wish you could just watch Wonwoo devour his burger and thirst for him.
The two adults and their three kids are very rowdy, and you bring over some colouring sheets with crayons, as well as a tray of water in plastic cups. Your focus shifts between Wonwoo and the family while they look over the menus, and when they put them down, you head over again, notepad in hand.
By the time you’re done taking their very complicated and long order, Wonwoo’s finishing up his meal, licking his fingers clean in a way that makes you salivate as you run to the kitchen to quickly give the chef the new list of food.
“Can I leave the money on the table?” Wonwoo calls, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
“I’ll be right there-”
“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he says, casually tossing a few bills onto the counter. “Thanks, y/n.”
“Bye, Wonwoo.” You hate watching him leave, but as you approach his table, you find he’s left you a very generous tip.
When you head back to the kitchen window, the chef leans through. “You know that guy?” he asks.
“Yeah. I hear he’s a bit of a regular here?”
“Started coming in two months ago,” the chef nods. “He’s a little weird.”
“Weird?” you cock your head to the side, watching the chef flip burgers. “How so?”
“He only ever comes in alone, usually just orders a black coffee, and watches other customers. I don’t know how you talked him into getting a burger today, but… yeah, a little off.”
You assess the chef. While he seems like a good guy, you wonder if there are any other biased reasons he might be rubbed the wrong way by Wonwoo. 
“I think Wonwoo’s just…” you search for the word to defend him, “unique. He’s really nice, when you start to get to know him.”
“I hope you’re right about that,” the chef sighs. “If things don’t work out and you need someone to tell him, or any man, to back off, just let me know.”
“Thanks, chef,” you smile. “I’ll let you know if I need your help.”
You think maybe the chef is simply worried about you as a young woman entering the town’s dating pool with very little experience. 
However, when it comes to Wonwoo, you’re pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.
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You’ve decided to wear an orange floral boho style dress for your second date with Wonwoo. It reaches your mid thigh, and when you do a twirl for your roommates, Mary starts to scream about how beautiful you are.
“You’re going to give that boy a heart attack,” Jessica grins.
“Or a boner,” Mary agrees.
“Lets try for both,” you tease, gaze shifting out the front window just in time to see a car pull up. “I think that’s him!”
Your roomates jump up to get a look outside, and Jessica frowns. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t picture him as a 1966 Chrystler Imperial kind of guy.”
“Yeah, for some reason I thought he’d have a nicer muscle car.”
“Don’t be rude,” you remind Jessica. “And to be fair, he did just move here, muscle cars have limited room- I bet he has a car like this for the space.”
“Because you know him so well after only one date,” Mary rolls her eyes.
“You know what?” You grab your keys and head to the door, throwing Wonwoo’s jacket around your shoulders. “I do!”
Without another word to your roommates, you head outside, practically jumping down the steps. Wonwoo’s exited his car by now, and he’s come around to lean against the passenger’s side door, which he opens for you upon approach.
“Hi,” he grins.
“Hi!” you echo, throwing your arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug.
His hands are hesitant, but they settle on your hips, holding you tighter. You take a deep breath, enjoying the embrace, and his woodsy scent washes over you. 
“So where are we driving to?” you ask when you pull away.
“One of my coworkers said there’s this nice spot, I thought I’d take you there,” Wonwoo suggests. It’s so very vague, and so very Wonwoo. 
“Works for me,” you grin, allowing him to take your hand and help you into the car.
As you close your door, you notice Wonwoo waving at your roommates who are staring from the living room window. Jessica immediately ducks down and you laugh to yourself.
“The girls you live with seem nice,” Wonwoo notes as he enters the driver’s seat.
“They’re alright,” you smile. “Do you have any roommates?”
“No, I live alone.”
“That must be nice.”
“It’s quiet.”
“Are you the kind of guy that likes the quiet?”
Wonwoo considers your question for a moment. “I used to be. But some days, it can be lonely.”
It’s the first time he’s really gotten deep with you. He’s being vulnerable, and your breath catches in your throat.
You reach out and rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift, giving him a gentle squeeze. “If you ever need company, you know where to find me.”
“I might take you up on that,” Wonwoo flashes a small smile, but you can tell it’s an aversion tactic. You don’t mind dropping the topic, and you take your hand away, looking at the road.
Wonwoo’s pulled off the main street and is heading up one of the dirt roads that leads into the forest. It’s a path you know well, and your heart thumps when you realize where Wonwoo must be taking you.
“Are we going to Hellyhill Lookout?” you ask softly.
“Uh huh, have you been?” Wonwoo sneaks a glance at you.
“Not personally, no, but I’ve heard it’s nice.”
“Okay,” he nods. “Good.”
“Do you…” you lick your lip. “Did your coworker tell you what kind of lookout it is?”
“What do you mean?”
You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and you enjoy the switchbacks of the road, the way the tall trees fly past. “It’s a lover’s lookout.”
“A lover’s lookout,” Wonwoo repeats.
“You know, a place that teens drive to so they can make out in their cars?”
Wonwoo practically chokes on air, and his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t know-”
“Don’t be sorry,” you try to assure him, but he’s already beginning to blush.
“We can go somewhere else-”
“Really,” you reach for his hand again, “Wonwoo, it’s fine.”
“I can’t believe my coworker would suggest this-”
You can tell that your words aren’t helping his anxiety, so you lean over the bench seat, pressing your lips to his cheek. He freezes under the motion. “Wonwoo,” you whisper again, “I want to go to a lover’s lookout with you. Stop panicking, please.” 
He takes a shuddery breath. “Okay.”
You look out at the road again. “Pull over at the next stop,” you instruct. “The lookout is just through the trees.”
Wonwoo does as you say, and pretty soon you’re entering a small, empty parkinglot. You suppose it’s a school night, and you’ve heard this spot is busiest on Fridays and Saturdays.
The privacy is welcome, and Wonwoo slowly pulls to a stop. The view is breathtaking as the sun sets behind a mountain. Even from inside his car you can see the whole small town down below, twinkling and nestled amongst the Pacific Northwest geography. 
“Wow, Wonwoo-” you turn to say something, but suddenly he’s cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours.
The shy man you’ve been getting to know is gone, and you melt into the kiss, closing your eyes while your thoughts disappear. His touch is gentle on your cheek, but his fingers slip around to cup the back of your head, and when his tongue glides across your lower lip, you open your mouth for him, granting him access.
You stifle a groan, reaching out to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him closer while also sliding across the bench seat, your knees pressing against his thigh. 
Already, you want to be closer. You wish he’d grab your hips and pull you on top of him, but he doesn’t, he simply kisses you. You can feel your panties beginning to stick to your core, and when his lips move to your throat, you stifle a moan, fingers flexing against his shirt.
“Wonwoo, I need more-”
“I didn’t bring condoms,” he says against your neck.
“I don’t care-”
“I’m not about to get you pregnant on our second date.”
“How… responsible of you,” you laugh, feeling a little disappointed. “You could always just… I don’t know, pull out?”
Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to chuckle, and he shakes his head. “Here, I have an idea.” He pulls away from you, and you’re left frowning. “Come outside with me.”
“But-”
He cups your face. “Do you trust me?”
You sigh. “Fine.” Maybe the cold air will calm you down, maybe you can convince him to bring condoms next time.
You exit the car, coming around the front to join Wonwoo. “Here,” he says, reaching for your hand and gently tugging you so you’re standing with your back to his chest while he leans against the hood of the vehicle. 
He wraps you tightly in his arms, and you release a sigh when he begins to kiss your neck again.
“Are you trying to torture me?” you ask.
“Angel, if I was trying to torture you, you’d know it.” 
“Yeah?” you can feel his cock through his jeans, and you begin to grind back against him. “And how would I know it?”
“Well for starters,” his hand snakes down the front of your dress, and he grabs at the fabric by your thighs, dragging it up, “I wouldn’t be doing this.” His lips return to your throat. “Can I touch you properly?”
“I’d be angry if you didn’t,” you confess, resting your head back against his shoulder. 
Wonwoo’s hand slips under your dress, and he cups your pussy, two fingers begining to rub you through your panties. A whimper slips past your lips, and you wiggle your hips, wanting more pressure, which Wonwoo gives you.
“Feels good?” he asks, breath hot against your throat.
“So good,” you nod. “For a guy who doesn’t do this sort of thing often, you definitely know how to handle women.”
Wonwoo simply laughs, but doesn’t respond more than that, continuing to tease you through your panties until you’re wriggling against his hand and cock. Then his free arm moves around to stop your hips, keeping you pinned to his chest. “Stop moving,” he says lowly, breath hot against your neck.
“I can’t help it,” you whimper, your pussy throbbing with need. 
“Are you close, Angel?” He smiles against your throat and a shiver runs up your spine. 
You nod, not able to find the words to admit to him that a little teasing through your panties has already taken you to the edge.
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck, and you feel him look around. You’re still the only two people in the dark parkinglot. 
“I’m gonna put you on the hood of my car now,” Wonwoo tells you.
You don’t really know what he’s thinking of doing to you, but there’s no way you’re going to question him now. You’re as compliant as ever, letting him adjust you and lift you onto his vehicle.
“Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.”
Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. 
His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.
His breath is warm against your entrance and your thighs quiver with anticipation. There’s nothing for you to grab onto while on the hood of his car, so you bundle your hands in your dress, pulling the fabric higher so Wonwoo has easier access to your core. 
His own palms flatten along your thighs, fingers digging against your skin while he kisses closer and closer to where you need him most, his lips light like feathers. 
“God,” you groan. “Please!” 
The bastard smiles, and you realize how much he’s enjoying teasing you. How did your shy bowling alley boy turn into a demon like this? 
He presses a soft kiss to your clit and the sensation has you gasping loudly. Most men who’ve eaten you out have started rough and ended rough, but it’s clear to you already that Wonwoo is not like other men. It’s absolutely insane how good the feather light touches can feel, and when he kitten licks your folds your stomach clenches.
“Please, I need more-” you beg, pushing your pussy closer to his face. 
“Why won’t you let me enjoy you slowly?”
“Because-” your breath catches, “I need to cum!”
“Already?”
“Wonwoo, I swear to God-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence because he gives in, pressing his mouth against your core and pushing his tongue into your tight hole. Your hips push up involuntarily, and your clit brushes by Wonwoo’s nose, which sends shivers of pleasure down your legs.
He must notice the way you react from clit stimulation because he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, flicking at it with his tongue.
Your whole body tenses. You’re so close to your orgasm you could die-
Wonwoo groans against your pussy and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, pussy throbbing as you come undone for him. 
Your eyes are clenched shut and your back arches off the hood of his car. Pleasure surges through your entire body, radiating out from between your legs. Wonwoo doesn’t let up on you though, he keeps licking your pussy, working you through your orgasm until you’re a complete quivering mess, shaking and moaning like you’ve never shaken and moaned before.
You’re breathless, body tingling with afterwaves of your orgasm when Wonwoo finally pulls away from your pussy. You watch under hooded lids as he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, licking his lips.
With the limited light, it’s hard to see details, but you can tell his pupils are blown. 
Honestly, condoms be damned, you need this man to fuck you, and you need it now.
“Wonwoo-”
There’s a flash of light and his gaze shifts past you. You hear the familiar crunch of tires on graveled dirt, and you realize another car is pulling down the path to the lookout.
“Shit,” Wonwoo cusses, standing up and fixing your dress over your thighs. He reaches out for your hand. “Come on.”
“What about you?” you ask, knowing he’s probably aching in his jeans.
“I’m not about to make you blow me in my car.”
“What if I want to, though?” you question.
Wonwoo takes a deep breath, pulling you to your feet and holding you close. “Another time,” he assures you.
You tug on the front of his shirt, letting your lips ghost past his own. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “I wanted tonight to be about you.”
“Blowing you can still be about me.”
Wonwoo laughs. “Next time.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise,” he confirms.
“You know… I like a man with self control.”
He simply shakes his head at you, letting you go so you can both get back in his car. “Let’s go for a drive,” he suggests, “because if we don’t, my self control might just snap.”
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Your whole week is spent with you on edge, but your third date with Wonwoo finally arrives on your next Wednesday off. He’s suggested a movie date, and you’re not exactly sure how you’re going to get touchy with him in a car surrounded by other couples- but as the date approaches, you realize that you probably won’t be the only duo getting a little frisky while watching the new James Bond movie, Live or Let Die.
You’re waiting outside when Wonwoo picks you up, and you enter his vehicle, leaning over the bench seat to press your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Hi,” you grin. “I missed you.”
“I uh…” he swallows thickly, “I missed you too.”
“What time is the movie again?” you ask.
“Uh,” Wonwoo checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes?”
“Then we should get going.” You settle in your seat while he takes you to the drive in movie. He pays for your tickets, and rolls into the parking lot, finding a spot. Your windows are already down, and there’s a speaker set up outside your doors so you can both hear the sound.
“Do you want popcorn or anything?” Wonwoo asks.
“Not right now, maybe later,” you grin, sliding closer to him. 
Wonwoo adjusts, resting his arm behind you and allowing you to tuck against his shoulder. “I’m happy to be here with you.”
“I’m happy you came,” Wonwoo admits. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie.”
“Yeah? You like spies?”
“I think the way Hollywood portrays them is… interesting.”
“Right, because you’re an expert on spies, huh?”
Wonwoo grins. “Something like that.”
He begins to play with your hair, stroking it gently, and you rest one of your hands on his thigh, enjoying the muscles and denim. God, it’s so hard to be near Wonwoo and not get horny, almost impossible you would say.
The film begins, and you do your best to focus on it, to no avail. 
Wonwoo’s still stroking you, and each drag of his fingers by your hair makes your panties wetter. You’re determined to repay the favour he’d done for you last time, and finally you’ve had enough.
“Wonwoo.”
“Hmm?” He sneaks a glance from the movie to look at you.
“I need something to suck on.”
“I can go grab you something from the concession-”
“No,” you shake your head. “I need you to suck on.”
“You need…” he coughs. “You need me.” It’s almost as if he doesn’t believe it.
“Uh huh,” you nod. “Will you let me make you feel good?”
“I-” his words cut off into a groan when you cup him through his jeans, and you realize he’s already half hard. 
“Looks like you need me too,” you smile, leaning forward to press your lips to the side of his throat. He jolts a little at the contact, angling his head back to give you more space to begin to suck on his skin. 
“Fuck,” he groans, and the sound goes straight to your core.
Why’s he so sexy. Like. How is this legal.
You’ve decided Wonwoo is illegal. No one should be this hot. It’s a panty dropping hazard, as you’re beginning to see for yourself. 
“Will you let me suck you off?” you ask. “Please?”
He swallows thickly. “Yeah.” 
“Good,” you grin, pressing one last kiss to his cheek before you begin to undo his jeans. You’ve never undressed someone so fast in your life, and a few moments later he’s lifting his hips to allow you to tug his pants down, his cock springing free.
You lick your lips, already salivating at the sight of him.
He’s somehow perfect everywhere. From his handsome face and gorgeous hands all the way down to his pretty cock, which is probably around seven or eight inches. It’s a good thickness, with a vein running along the underside that you want to trace with your tongue.
“Just, make sure no one sees,” you whisper, as you dip your head down, hoping the car doors will hide your body from view of other movie goers.
“Angel,” Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath, “I’m pretty sure the guy in the car next to us is doing the same thing with his girlfriend.”
That makes you feel a little better, as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and bring its head to your lips, kitten licking and earning a groan from Wonwoo. His hand finds your hair again, stroking you as you take more of him into your mouth.
You haven’t blown a guy in a while, and it feels empowering to be pleasuring someone again. Wonwoo’s small moans are already making this more than worth it, and his constant touch through your hair is extra encouragement.
You sink yourself onto his cock, taking as much of him as you can. You’re trying to be gentle, but you get more daring as you go, sucking harder, which makes Wonwoo’s hips jolt below you. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly. His grip tightens in your hair, and he curses, breathing heavily.
You want to make this man cum like you’ve never wanted to make any man cum in your entire life, so you go harder on him, pushing through the discomfort in the back of your throat. You focus on your tongue movements, the pressure of your sucking motions and the way you’re bobbing your head.
“Shit,” Wonwoo groans. “Slow down-”
You refuse. This is personal. You want to see how fast you can make him come undone. You want Wonwoo to be mouth whipped for you, if he’s not already obsessed after having a taste of your pussy last time.
It might be a little insecure of you, but you’re not one hundred percent sure Wonwoo wants you the way you want him. You need to be sure. You need to know he’s not going to leave you, like most people in your life have. 
“Angel,” Wonwoo’s voice lacks conviction, and you think he can tell you’re not intent on letting up anytime soon. When you release a moan around his cock, Wonwoo matches the sound. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
You suck him even harder and Wonwoo pants above you, fingers flexing in your hair. He lets out a strangled sound as he reaches his high, and he shoots his load down your throat. You do your best to swallow like a good girl, continuing to bob yourself on his cock, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth-
“Shit, angel,” Wonwoo’s voice is breathless, almost whimpery, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. The last rope of cum goes down your throat and you finally let up, swallowing and pulling off his cock You take a deep breath, wiping your hand against the back of your mouth.
Wonwoo looks beautiful. His skin is flushed, his lips parted, and he’s looking at you in a way that no man has ever looked at you before. You want to kiss him so badly, but you’re very aware of his salty taste still in your mouth.
“I’m going to go get a drink,” you tell him.
“What?” He blinks. “Right now?”
“Yeah,” you nod, already reaching for the door handle. If you stay in this car with him any longer, you will jump his bones. You need the cool air and a breather, a way to slow your racing heart, and more importantly, you need your damned pussy to stop throbbing because you’re not getting laid tonight.
As you weave through the cars, you notice a group of men standing at the concession. They watch as you approach, and you do your best to downcast your eyes, feeling your skin heat. There’s no lineup for ordering and you’re quick to ask for two cokes, hoping that you’ll be able to head back to Wonwoo faster than people waiting for popcorn.
“Hey pretty girl,” one of the men calls, and it only takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you. 
You don’t respond.
“I said,” he steps closer, “hey pretty girl.”
“Hi,” you say quietly.
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here alone?” the man questions.
“I’m not alone.”
“I don’t see a boyfriend.”
“He’s in the car,” you insist.
“He must not care about you that much if he sent you out for drinks all by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Wonwoo’s voice makes you turn, and you let out a shaky breath at his sudden appearance. 
“And who are you?” The man hitting on you puffs up his chest.
“The boyfriend who you don’t think cares,” Wonwoo says steadily. “I do care,” he turns to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and lowering his voice to address you. “You ran away pretty quick, are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” you nod. “Just thirsty.”
“Two cokes!” the concession girl announces right on schedule, and you reach up to retrieve them, taking a sip of one and letting out a soft sigh while Wonwoo tosses a bill onto the counter.
“Come on, is this guy really your boyfriend?” It looks like the man harassing you doesn’t want to quit. 
“I am,” Wonwoo confirms, for the second time, and it makes your heart race in your chest.
The man takes a step forward. “I want to hear the girl say it. I don’t believe you.”
“I think you better back off.” Wonwoo’s voice has lowered an octave, and you’ve never seen him behave this way.
“Or what?” The catcaller has about two inches on Wonwoo, and he’s built like a bull, puffing his chest out again as he looks down at the man you met in a bowling alley of all places.
“Maybe you should try me and find out?” Wonwoo suggests.
The big guy laughs, and then in one motion, he takes a swing at Wonwoo. 
Wonwoo dodges the man’s fist easily, grabbing his forearm and adding to the forward momentum. Before you know what’s really happening, Wonwoo’s manuevered the man onto the ground, twisting his arm behind his back and pressing a knee just below that.
“I think you should say sorry for harassing my girlfriend,” Wonwoo says coldly.
“What?!” The man wiggles on the ground, but to no avail. Wonwoo’s thigh muscle bulges in his blue jeans and you think your mouth is watering again. 
“Say you’re sorry.” Wonwoo twists the man’s arm behind his back and the man lets out a grunt of pain.
“I’m sorry,” he groans. 
“For?” Wonwoo presses.
The man meets your gaze. “For harassing you, I’m sorry!”
Wonwoo lets up, standing and joining you again. “Lets go,” he says, grabbing one of the drinks from you before lacing your fingers. You allow him to guide you away from the man laying on the ground with a look of shock on his face.  
You’re still quite stunned yourself, and you let Wonwoo pull you back through the cars toward his own. He opens your door for you and you get inside, taking a deep breath while you watch him go around the front to enter his own seat.
“Wonwoo?”
“Yeah?”
“Where the fuck did a guy who works in a bowling alley learn to pull a move like that on someone so much bigger than him?” 
“Well-”
“Let me guess,” you hold up your hand, “If you told me you’d have to kill me.”
“Something like that,” he laughs.
You simply blink at him. “Who are you? Like really? Are you James Bond?”
“Definitely not,” Wonwoo grins. “Speaking of… should we continue watching the movie?”
All you can do is nod, but your mind is reeling, and you can’t focus the rest of the film. There’s so much about Wonwoo you still don’t know, and it’s making you insane. 
When the movie finishes, Wonwoo pulls out of the drive in theater. “I can tell you’re still shaken up about what happened,” he muses, “and I want to make it up to you.”
“Really? How are you thinking of doing that?”
“I was wondering if you’d let me cook you dinner sometime soon.”
“At your house?”
“Yeah.” 
“Okay,” you nod… maybe his house will provide a few clues to help you figure him out.
“Does tomorrow work for you?”
“Works great.”
Wonwoo looks over at you, and he reaches out a hand, lacing your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s meant as reassurance, but he doesn’t say anything else as he drives you home. 
“Can I walk you to your door?” Wonwoo asks softly when you arrive.
“Of course,” you nod, exiting the car and waiting for Wonwoo to come join you so you can head up the walkway together. 
“I had a really good time tonight,” he muses, “and not just because you sucked me off.”
The statement makes you laugh, shaking your head at him. “No? Bet you also enjoyed throwing that guy on the ground.”
“I enjoyed watching a movie with you,” Wonwoo insists. 
“Sure you did,” you grin, turning to face him on your doorstep.
You know it’s probably just a matter of time before one of your roommates ruins the moment, and you think Wonwoo knows it too, because there’s no hesitation in his actions tonight. He grabs your hips, tugging you close so he can lean down and press his mouth to your own. 
He’s confident, lips parting so his tongue can glide against your own. One of his hands releases your hips to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek while he kisses you.
Your stomach is in knots just from this, and you’re acutely aware that you haven’t actually fucked him yet, aware that tomorrow, you’ll be in his home, alone. 
Your front door opens and Wonwoo breaks away from you. “Hi Mary,” he addresses your roommate.
“Hi love birds,” Mary grins.
You shake your head at the way she’s ruined the moment. Your panties are sticking uncomfortably to your core and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.
“I’ll uh… see you tomorrow?” you say softly, looking into Wonwoo’s pretty, dark eyes.
He nods. “I’ll come pick you up at seven.”
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Wonwoo is a shockingly good cook. He’d made a baked chicken and pasta dish that he’d simply taken out of the oven after picking you up, plating the food while you looked around his little home. 
Your first bite of food had made you almost groan, looking at him while he laughed. “Bet you thought I couldn’t cook,” he’d mused.
You’d admitted your expectations had been low, and the two of you had eaten dinner together, chatting about everything from his house being rented furnished, to a few towns he’d been in before coming here.
Wonwoo had given nomadic vibes, but as you listen to him speak, you realize how deep that constant need for movement runs. It strikes something like fear inside of you… when is he going to decide to leave this town? To leave you? Is there even a future for you both?
Wonwoo doesn’t seem to notice your distress, as you’re good at hiding it, and after you’re done eating, he suggests moving to the couch to watch a sitcom. 
He sits down first, and after a moment of deliberation, you tuck close to his side. His arm wraps around you immediately and you lean against his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh while he turns on the tv. “Do you want to watch anything in specific?” he asks.
You shake your head. “I’m okay with whatever.”
A generic sitcom begins to play and you relax even more, enjoying the feeling of his arm around you. You could get used to nights like this… if Wonwoo wasn’t such a nomadic, unpredictable man. 
Wonwoo’s hand begins to stroke up and down your arm, and you find it hard to even concentrate on the show while he’s doing this. You simply enjoy existing with him, and you haven’t experienced this type of peace with a man possibly ever. 
An hour passes in this easy way, and Wonwoo begins to yawn, stretching his arms over his head. You wonder how he manages to remain so pretty even while yawning- sometimes you hate how attractive this man is. If he wasn’t so god damned sexy, maybe he wouldn’t have you wrapped around his finger the way he does.
“I’m getting tired,” he notes. “Maybe… maybe I should drive you home.”
“You could do that… or, you could let me cuddle you, and you could have a nap,” you suggest.
Wonwoo considers it, and he bites at his lip, looking deep in thought. “I’ve never uh… never napped with someone before.”
“Really?” Your brows raise in shock. “Well… don’t you want to give it a try?”
“Sometimes I have bad dreams,” he tells you quietly. 
“Wouldn’t it be nicer for you to wake up with someone there to comfort you?” you ask.
Wonwoo blinks. “Would you really do that?”
“Of course!” you assure him, reaching out to gently squeeze his thigh. “Come on, if you get nightmares, I’ll even let you be the little spoon.”
“You’ll let me be the little spoon,” he repeats, not looking convinced.
“Trust me, it will help,” you assure him. 
He still looks like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he allows you to maneuver him down onto the couch, with you removing the back pillows so the two of you can lay comfortably. You curl around his back, tucking a hand around him, placing your palm over his heart. A moment later, he threads his fingers through your own, locking you into a position that feels secure and warm and very loving.
He’s tense, but when you let out a deep breath, he mirrors you, and you feel him relaxing in your embrace.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he tells you.
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust myself.”
“Well, I can trust you for the both of us,” you say softly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Have a nap. I’ll be here for you, no matter what happens.”
Wonwoo sighs, but he cuddles a little closer to you, and you can’t help but smile at the motion. You listen to him breathe while the sitcom chatters away in the background, and you’re pretty sure it only takes a minute or two for him to fall asleep.
The poor man, he must have been really tired for him to knock out so fast.
You enjoy holding him, and you get comfortable wrapped around his back. His broad shoulders obscure part of the tv screen from your view but you don’t mind, it’s not like you’re really watching anyways. 
Focusing on your breaths, you allow yourself to fall in a state of deep relaxation. You’re not particularly sleepy, it just feels nice to be close to Wonwoo like this… even when he begins to twitch. You can tell he’s dreaming now, and you note the way the muscles in his arms feather- you wonder what dream Wonwoo is up to.
He settles down a little, and you’re glad that maybe he’s not going to wake up, maybe having someone cuddling him does help. 
Your hope that your presence makes a difference is dashed not five minutes later when Wonwoo begins twitching again, but this time, there’s more force in it. 
“No-” he mumbles in his sleep. “No-” he says again, but now he’s louder.
At this point, you’re not sure this counts as a nightmare, it’s pretty clear to you that Wonwoo’s having a night terror, and when he begins to shake, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, clinging to his back. “Shh,” you whisper softly, reaching up a hand to stroke his hair. “It’s okay, it’s just a dream-”
Wonwoo jolts in your embrace, and then he’s sitting up abruptly, eyes snapping open, lips parting in gasps-
“It was just a dream,” you tell him again, louder now that he’s awake. You sit up and attach to his back again, running your hands up and down his arms. “You’re safe. You’re safe with me now.”
He’s still breathing heavily, shoulders moving with each sharp inhale of breath.
You hold him through it, knowing now is not the best time to ask any questions. You just want to support him, so that’s what you do. 
After a while, Wonwoo starts to take more even breaths, and he rests a hand over yours, leaning back against you. He’s quiet, and he lets you simply hold him. You’re sure now that you’re providing comfort, and when you lean in to press a soft kiss to his neck, he lets out a deep sigh. 
“I need to tell you something.” 
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you assure him.
“I do,” he insists. “Especially after what happened at the drive in.”
He must be referring to his ability to take down a man and pin him to the sidewalk, and to be fair, you have been wondering about that. You give Wonwoo the space to elaborate. 
“I’m not even sure how to explain this,” Wonwoo sighs after a moment.
“Take your time.”
“This is going to sound crazy,” he says softly, and you can tell he’s working up the courage to get out what’s on his mind. “There’s no other way to describe it, so I might as well just say it. You’ve probably been wondering about the job I had before I started at the bowling alley.”
He pauses to allow you to confirm, and you give a small nod, leaning against his shoulder. He’s not looking at you, and you assess his side profile. It’s clear that this is going to be a turning point in your relationship with him, and you give him your complete attention for it.
“The government…” Wonwoo licks his lips, “well, they’d call me a rogue military asset.” 
You take in his words, not quite sure how to react-
“I can’t go into details with you, I won’t, but… I can tell you that I never agreed with what the government wanted to use me for.” 
The night terrors make sense now. 
“They put a lot of time training me to be who I am, so… let's just say they wouldn’t let me leave without a fight. Technically, I’m court marshalled, but it’s worse than that- I’m on the run, moving from town to town- I can’t  stay anywhere too long- it’s never been a problem for me, but then-” he swallows thickly. “Then I met you. It’s funny,” Wonwoo lets out a sad chuckle, “I’m trained to assess probability, but nowhere in my future sight did I anticipate meeting a girl I actually liked, someone I could confide in, someone who I could rest next to, who wouldn’t judge me for my dreams.” 
“Wonwoo-” you whisper his name, and he turns in your arms, facing you.
“I don’t want to ruin your life,” he states. “Being with a guy like me, it doesn’t give you a future.”
“You wouldn’t be ruining it,” you insist, “and your wrong. It would give me a future, a future with you.” 
“It’s not enough.”
“Let me be the judge of that, please.” You cup his face, and Wonwoo leans into your touch, his eyes meeting yours. You can’t help but lean forward, pressing your lips to his own. It’s a soft kiss at first, and you hope he can feel the emotion you’re pouring into it.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting so you can climb into his lap, straddling him on the couch while his tongue slides over your own. 
His hands find your hips, and he applies a bit of pressure, helping you grind down on him. You can feel his cock in the denim of his jeans, and you’re a little surprised that he’s turned on so soon after a night terror, but at the same time, you’re not complaining.
“Wonwoo,” you whisper, breaking the kiss while his lips move to your throat. “I think… I think I should stay over tonight, in case you have any more night terrors.”
You feel him smile against your skin. “Is that the only reason?” he asks.
You grind your clothed core along his cock, shaking your head. “No.” 
“Let me take you to bed,” Wonwoo says, grabbing at your ass and lifting you up easily. “I’m not about to have you on the couch.”
“You’re about to have me?” you grin.
“Unless you don’t want it.”
“I want it,” you confirm, lips moving to his neck while he carries you through his small house. “I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Me too,” he says softly, fingers digging into your ass.
When you get to his bedroom, he lays you onto his bed softly before standing over you, looking down at your form. “You’re so pretty,” Wonwoo whispers, reaching down to trail a finger over your denim covered knee.
“Prettier with my pants off,” you smirk.
“Yeah?” He lets out a small laugh. 
“You should see for yourself.” You reach down to undo your jeans and as you pull down the zipper, Wonwoo grabs at the leg, tugging. Soon, your legs are bare, and you feel the cool air of the room against your hot, panty covered core. “Now's the time I tell you I’m also cuter with no underwear.”
“I remember,” Wonwoo nods. 
His words make a hot lick of pleasure tease up your pussy, and you grab at the bottom of your shirt, tugging that off next so all you’re left in is a bra and panties. 
Wonwoo begins to get onto his knees but you shake your head. “We’ve had enough foreplay. Enough teasing. I want you inside of me.”
“Are you sure?” Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, and the feeling makes you close your eyes, leaning your head back to let out a sigh.
“I’m sure,” you confirm. No matter how good his tongue might feel, you’re aching to get to his cock.
“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” he asks, breath hot as it fans up your legs.
“Because I’m impatient,” you can’t help but laugh, writhing in his sheets. “Because I need to know what you feel like.”
Wonwoo lets out something of a hum, and he presses a kiss to your thigh before moving up your body. His lips drag over your stomach and up to the swell of your breasts while he climbs on top of you, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head. His nose nuzzles by your throat as he kisses there too, and when you tug on his soft hair, he finally makes it to your mouth.
You groan against his lips immediately, wrapping your legs around his hips while tugging at his shirt. He allows you to tear it off of him, breaking the kiss for only a moment before you’re dragging him back to you.
His tongue glides across your lip and you open your mouth for him, allowing him to trace your teeth. You like the feeling of him, like what he does with his tongue. 
His hand slips under your back and you arch yourself for him, making it easier to take off your bra. He pushes at your straps next, and you lose your patience, pulling the fabric from your chest and exposing your boobs to the man who makes you hornier than you’ve ever been in your entire life. 
Wonwoo dips his head down, pressing kisses over your breasts until he reaches your nipple. His free hand begins to gently massage your other boob while his tongue begins to trace your pebbled bud. It feels like magic, and you thread your fingers in his hair, releasing a groan.
He sucks gently on your nipple, taking his time. 
You’d said no foreplay, but you’re okay with this. You can feel yourself beginning to soak through your panties, and when Wonwoo switches from one breast to the other, you practically throb at how well he’s taking care of you. 
Sounds of pleasure are slipping past your lips now, and you get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your chest, his hands groping what his tongue isn’t playing with. 
You wonder how long it’s been since he had his face in a nice set of boobs, and you allow him to enjoy it. He’s clearly having the time of his life, and you can feel him beginning to grind down against the mattress between your legs. 
“Wonwoo,” you whisper tugging at his hair. 
He murmurs against your breasts, but doesn’t let up.
“Need you inside, please,” you beg. “You can keep sucking on my boobs, but, I need you inside of me right now.” 
“Let me grab a condom,” Wonwoo says, pulling off your chest to reach into his bedside table where he takes out a square foil.
He sits back onto his knees between your legs, tearing open the package while you work on his jeans, getting his belt undone and his zipper down. 
You can tell by his movements that he’s starting to get impatient too, and when he looks down at your panty covered core and smirks, you have a feeling you know whats coming next.
“How much do you like these?” he asks, hooking a finger in the fabric.
“Just ruin them,” you laugh, not wanting to wait another moment. 
“You got it, angel,” Wonwoo grabs your panties with both hands. He tears one side, freeing a thigh, before repeating the motion on the other side, then he tugs the ruined clothing item off your body and tosses it onto the floor.
“Don’t even bother with your pants,” you say, pushing them down his thighs, “just fuck me with them at your knees.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said you needed me.”
“I’d never kid about that,” you giggle, watching him roll the condom onto his thick cock. The moment he’s done, you’re grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down on top of you so you can crash your lips to his own. 
He ruts his hips, cock grazing through your pussy folds, teasing your clit.
“Please,” you groan, feeling absolutely insatiable. He’s so close, he just needs to put it in-
Wonwoo reaches a hand between your bodies, adjusting his cock to your wet hole. “Are you sure?” he asks.
Instead of answering, you wrap your legs around his hips, applying pressure to force him inside of you. He lets out a groan as his length sinks into your wet heat, his mouth moving hot against yours again while you get his body flush to your own.
You both moan loudly when he’s inside of you fully, your greedy pussy taking him all after the build ups you’ve had in numerous dates. 
“Do you like is fast or slow?” Wonwoo asks, lips moving to your throat.
“Slow, then fast,” you respond, tracing his broad shoulders while you relax into the feeling of him.
“You got it, angel,” Wonwoo says, starting to move his hips. He rocks slowly, the tip of his cock dragging by your sweet spot as he begins to make love to you. 
It feels like heaven, and you get lost in him, moans slipping out of you with each thrust.
True to his word, Wonwoo’s pace gradually quickens, his fingers digging into your hips to pin you to the bed. He’s so big and sexy and- everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.
You hold him like you never want to let him go, and the way he kisses you makes you think he feels the same.
There’s no dirty talk, and you don’t mind it. You’re just two souls quietly enjoying each other. The only sounds are primal noises of pleasure and the soft slapping of skin on skin. 
As his pace builds, so does the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Wonwoo’s moans don’t help your situation, and each groan has your pussy practically throbbing with need. 
His shoulders are your anchor, your broad, lovely, wonderful, sexy anchor, and you hold onto them tightly, eyes shut while you enjoy him. 
When Wonwoo’s thrusts become almost piston like in nature, you cry out, and Wonwoo breaks your kiss to bury his face against your throat. “You close?”
“Yes, fuck, Wonwoo-” you whimper, so close to your high you can almost taste it.
“Want me to cum with you, angel?”
“Yes, God, please-” you nod quickly, digging your nails into his shoulders. 
Wonwoo groans deeply. “I’m almost there-”
“I can’t hold it,” you’re nearly crying now, overwhelmed by how good this feels.
“Then cum,” Wonwoo states, voice husky as he reaches a hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit. “Cum with me, angel.”
This is the last straw, and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, orgasm slamming into you while you hold onto Wonwoo as your life line. You gasp loudly in his ear, waves of pleasure washing over you. In fact, you see stars, vision clouding behind your lids as you’re overtaken by Wonwoo and everything he does for you.
He’s still groaning in your ear, and his thrusts are harder now. You can tell he’s cumming too, and the thought only makes your orgasm last longer, pussy milking him for all he’s worth.
You’re not sure when exactly he begins to slow down, but soon he’s coming to a stop on top of you, gasping loudly. His heart is thundering in his chest, and you can feel it through your breast where you’re pressed together.
You reach up to stroke a hand through his hair, also working on your ragged breathing. 
He holds you for a while, but finally he’s forced to pull away. “Let me get rid of the condom, then we can sleep,” he says softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom just down the hall.
You stare at his ceiling, still overwhelmed with everything that’s happened.
Wonwoo might not know what his future holds, but you’re certain that as long as you find a way to be part of it, you might be happy forever.
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Waking up next to Wonwoo had been wonderful. There hadn’t been any more night terrors, and Wonwoo even mentions it as you make breakfast together. “I haven’t slept that well in years,” he muses, holding you close and kissing your neck.
“Then you might have to keep me as a safety blanket,” you tease, although… you do mean it. 
The comment is enough to make him groan and he turns off the stove, neglecting breakfast in favour of throwing you on the table and eating you as his first course.
He buries his tongue inside your core, making you cum three times before the day has even really started. Then he sits you down and plates your meal, sitting across from you and watching you with dark eyes exaggerated by circular spectacles that set off the handsome features of his face.
“When can I see you again?” he asks when you clean up from breakfast.
“Working tonight,” you sigh.
“I could pop by, if you wanted me to.”
“As long as you don’t drink coffee at my eight pm shift,” you giggle, remembering what your chef had said about Wonwoo’s obscure proclivities. 
“I promise,” Wonwoo smiles. “I’ll get a burger again.”
“Then you can come see me at work,” you grin, stepping closer to Wonwoo while he wraps his arms around your form, tugging you to his chest.
You’re getting way too used to him, but you can’t stop yourself, all you can do is watch while you fall deeper and deeper into the world of Wonwoo.
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You’re downright giddy when Wonwoo shows up in the middle of your shift. He’s always cute, but today, with his circular glasses, he takes your breath away.
He waves as he enters the diner, and you call for him to take any table. He takes the same booth as last time and you’re quick to get him some water, scurrying over with a smile.
“Hi,” you greet him.
“Hi,” he repeats. “How’s your shift going?”
“Better now that you’re here,” you say honestly. “You still want that burger?”
“Can you give me a couple minutes?” he asks. “I think I want to watch you run around for a bit. The sooner I order, the sooner I have to get out of here.”
“Are you going to stare at my ass, Wonwoo?”
“If you’ll let me.”
“Stare away.” You wink, turning on your heel and heading to check in on a different table.
It’s interesting to have his eyes on you like this, to know he’s happy just watching you while you work. He’s such a softie, and you adore him.
You’re grabbing food from the kitchen for a couple when the diner bell rings, and you look up to see four cops coming in. It’s not that often that police come to the diner for an aftershift meal, but tonight seems to be one of those nights.
They’re regulars, all things considered, and with a short wave to you, they take their favourite table, two down from Wonwoo.
Your gaze shifts to the man who’s just told you he’s on the run from the government. He’s playing with his cup of water, but that’s the only indication that he’s nervous. His body language is otherwise relaxed, and you think maybe he’s simply a good actor.
You grab four menus for the cops, and a tray of water, casually walking over them to pick up a conversation about how their night is going.
As you serve them, you notice one of the cops peering over at Wonwoo, and you can feel anxiety building in your stomach. “Can I grab you anything?” you ask, trying to take the man’s attention off of Wonwoo. “Tea, beer-”
“A beer would be nice,” he nods.
You give him a list of what you have in bottles, and he chooses, but as soon as you’re done with him, his eyes move to Wonwoo again. 
You head to the main counter, where you put through the drink orders. 
The bell to the diner rings, and when you turn to greet the new guests, you don’t see anyone standing at the door. You do, however, find Wonwoo’s booth empty, and your heart drops in your chest.
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You’re walking home from your shift when a car pulls up next to you. For a moment, you feel your heart begin to race, but then Wonwoo’s rolling down his window and calling out to you, “Hey, angel.”
“Oh my gosh, Wonwoo-” you stop in your tracks to look at him.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
“Of course,” you respond immediately, heading around his car to get in.
“I’m sorry I left so abruptly,” he apologizes when you enter, closing the door behind yourself.
“I understand why you did it,” you sigh. “You were probably worried one of those cops would recougnize you.”
“Exactly,” he nods. “This is why…” he swallows thickly. “This is why I never stay in one place for too long.”
His words hurt.
They really hurt. 
“Look…” you choose what you say next very carefully, “if you do decide to leave town, please don’t do it without coming to talk to me first.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Wonwoo says softly.
The rest of the short ride is quiet, and when he stops in front of your house, he leans over and cups your face, pressing his lips to your own.
When he pulls away, you stay staring at him. “Call me anytime, okay?”
He nods. “You got it, angel.” 
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It’s been two days since you last heard from Wonwoo, and you’re hanging out at home before a shift when the phone rings. Something inside of you makes you jump from the couch, running to answer the call before either of your roommates can.
“Hello?”
“Hi, angel.” 
“Wonwoo-” you let out a deep breath. “How are you?”
The line is quiet for a moment, and you hear him sigh. “I’ve been better.”
“Did something happen?”
“Not yet, but… I expect it might soon.”
You try to figure out what he’s saying. “Does that mean…”
“I’m leaving,” he says, as assertive as you’ve ever heard him. “I have to go.”
Your skin heats and you feel hot pricks in your eyes. You hold back tears, taking a deep breath and squeezing the phone in your hand. “Let me come with you.”
“I told you, this isn’t a life for you-”
“And I told you I don’t care!” You can’t contain yourself anymore, and you feel bad the moment the loud words are out of your mouth. Jessica looks at you from the other room and you turn your back to her, lowering your voice. “It’s not a life for you either, Wonwoo. You can’t live alone forever. You can’t.” 
“Some days I think I was built to be alone.”
You can’t help the tears now, and you choke a little on the sob that works its way up your throat. “Wonwoo, please-”
“I don’t want to do this to you, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me now!” you insist. “Wonwoo you can’t leave, not right when-” you cut yourself off, closing your eyes and leaning your shoulder against the wall. “Not right when I’m falling in love with you.”
The line is dead silent, and each second is like an hour. You’re shaking now, anxiety flooding your system. “Wonwoo? Are you still there?”
“I have to leave soon,” he says finally. “We wouldn’t have room for furniture, or-”
“I don’t care about furniture,” you insist. “All I need is a bag and you.” 
“This is crazy,” Wonwoo sighs.
“People do crazier things for love…” you bite at your lip. “You do love me too, right, Wonwoo? That’s why you’re open to this?”
This time, there’s no moment of contemplation, he simply answers, “Of course I love you, angel. How could I not?”
This time, when you let out a small cry, it’s not sadness. It’s a release of pent up emotion, emotion you’ve been holding in for who knows how long. You’re not sure how Wonwoo came into your life and flipped it upside down, but you are sure about him. More sure than you’ve been about anything in your life. 
“Your roommates aren’t going to be mad about you abruptly leaving?” Wonwoo asks.
You turn to look at Jessica. “My roommates will get over it,” you state. “When are you picking me up?”
“Can you be ready in an hour?”
“I’ll be waiting outside with my bag.”
“See you then… and angel?”
“Yes, Wonwoo?”
“I do love you.” 
“I love you too.”
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this collab, find the masterlist for it here
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “We could always practice making babies,” you suggest. Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh, the kind of laugh that lights up his face in the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. “Practice, huh?” He releases a deep breath, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer to his bare chest. “I hid your condoms,” you say. It sounds like you’re teasing him, but you are, in fact, being completely serious. “Come on…” you plead, leaning forward to ghost your lips over his throat, “have some fun with me.”
cw/ tw. Unprotected/raw sex, sex, fairly vanilla sex, Wonwoo is a park ranger so he’s built, hand grabbing, heavy panting/breathing, Wonwoo is pleasure vocal, talk about making babies, oral (f receiving), Wonwoo loves eating pussy, fingering, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 200
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
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bonus
The first few months being nomadic with Wonwoo had been bitter sweet. Every time you were getting used to a town, something would happen that would cause you to run. Eventually, however, you found a fit.
Wonwoo had stumbled upon a job opening as a park ranger, and it came with a log cabin a half an hour drive from the closest town, the small house nestled discreetly between the trees Wonwoo would be hired to take care of.
It had helped that one drive through the area had proven to Wonwoo that the cops were lazy, more interested in their donut runs than doing their jobs.
You’ve been living with your park ranger boyfriend for over a year now, and the cabin feels like home. 
Wonwoo wakes up with the sun, and sets off to do a run through of the trails. You take your time waking and cook breakfast, or you head in to town in your second hand beat up truck for supplies. There’s a library that hired you and the scheduling is relaxed-
You have everything you could ever want… well, almost everything.
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☀️ to read the 2.3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
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general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 
@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii
@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven
@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf
@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee
@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy
@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono
@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas
svt taglist:
@rebeccasficrecs - @alltowoo - @taestrwbrry - @greysdarling
@joonsneptune - @candidupped - @cheolussy
@yourfavoritefreakyhan - @asjkdk
Thanks to those who interacted with the teaser :)
@jaeminsbebu - @readforavv - @wonwoosecretcat
@roseandpeaches - @itgirlalisaa - @wonwooz1
@wwficrecs - @himbohoshi - @morkme-inurhrt
@sousydive
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reimeichan · 1 month
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Signs of having DID that I ignored (note that these are not exclusively signs of DID but they were for me):
I don't have amnesia, that's just short term memory loss because I have ADHD!
I actually have a very good memory, I'm great at memorizing things (what do you mean that's not the same thing)
sure it may seem like my mood changes drastically but I've read online that's common in people with ADHD! it's hard for us to regulate our emotions!
so what if I have different preferences from time to time? that's normal right? like when your mood changes you may prefer different foods? what do you mean that's not the same as going from "I hate spicy foods" one day to "omg I LOVE spicy foods!" the next?
yeah okay I tend to space out in the middle of conversations then come back to and need you to remind me what you said for the past 10 seconds or so. that's just my ADHD inattentiveness. what do you mean that I only do this when stressed. what do you mean that's a form of dissociation.
speaking of dissociation, sure sometimes I feel like I'm watching myself say and do things without my own input but that's just because I was tired/stressed out
yeah sometimes I go on autopilot. my autopilot seems to have its own agenda sometimes though. weird.
sure I changed usernames a *few* times but isn't that pretty common? yeah I also wanted to change how I presented online and also my pronouns and stuff but again isn't it common for people to want to start over sometimes?
*making multiple accounts to play the same game because I play the game differently on different accounts and don't want to mess things up on one account*
oh yes, I'm genderfluid! I say that because my gender absolutely changes from moment to moment and sure it seems kinda tied to other aspects of myself like color preferences and energy levels and personality traits but I'm pretty sure that's just par for the course with genderfluidity?
"you're so different when you're around your parents vs when you're at school/work vs when you're hanging out with friends!" yeah that's called being a complex person we all have different masks we wear in different social situations and I'm no different even if it seems more extreme for me
"how was school/work/the hang-out/going to visit your parents?" I don't know I'm tired and have a giant headache and can't remember
"you said this to me the other day and it made me feel <x>" what????? I literally have no memory of this and that's so incredibly out of character for me wtf I would never do that I was probably just really stressed out and tired and had no filter on.
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cupids-chamber · 8 days
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— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .
— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡
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The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 
He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 
Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 
Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”
Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 
“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.
Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 
"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 
"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 
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Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter
♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?
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— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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doobea · 15 days
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SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.
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synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.
MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST
contents: gn!reader, reader is two grades above rin, college AU setting, forced proximity, best friend's brother, rin is a lil emotionally constipated but its alright bc we love him, sae is a physics major in this idk why word count: 10.9k (haha... why do i do this) a/n: hi hi umm idk if i know how to write tbh its been quite some time,,, but im slowly finding myself getting back into the groove and umm yeah it'll still take some time!! anyways, thank you for beta'ing @popponn and of course this fic is dedicated to you too my sweet <3
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You meet Itoshi Rin at a coffee shop, of all places.
The kind of shop that you often see campus influencers hanging around. Hole in the wall. Dangling fairy lights paired with a few overgrown rose bushes in the front. A bit old-schooled, wooden counter tops, with well loved espresso machines. It’s not a big cafe, just enough to hold a few couches, a singular bookshelf packed with all sorts of board games, and low rise tables with way too many heat stains. 
At the start of the year, it started out as a quiet job. Never too overwhelming and had just enough downtime for you to finish up assignments in between breaks. Recently, due to a couple of self-proclaimed foodies on campus, business has blown up ten-fold. So, instead of catching up on your latest lectures, you’re stuck brewing teenage girls their overpriced lattes that are just mostly multiple pumps of flavored syrup and copious amounts of whipped cream. It’s rough but manageable to say the least, judging from the tips. 
You’re currently on scholarship, top of your classes and major, but you’re also living on your own so rent’s gotta get paid one way or another. Whether it be working part-time as a teaching assistant, a barista, or both.
On this particular day, you’re just about done closing up shop. The last hour had you rushing back and forth, fulfilling a last minute order from a Karen that swore up and down that she placed a mobile app order for ten frappuccinos twenty minutes prior. It’s been a long day, but the evening has finally calmed down. You’re scrubbing down the counter, putting all the remaining elbow grease you have into this one particular syrup spill earlier that you didn’t realize that someone had walked in until they started clearing their throat.
You barely look up, having the stain just almost disappear from the counter, but the information you register is enough to know that it’s a guy, and he’s by himself. 
And, okay, in a normal setting you would probably be smart enough to realize that a guy wearing a black cap, oversized hoodie, and a large gym bag at nearly nine o’clock at night is anything but suspicious. You, however, worked a long day. Your eyes are strained from operating the bright tablet menu. Your hair is a frenzied mess. There’s tea stains all over your apron. You get the gist.
So you don’t really notice at all, except that this guy is idling in front of the counter, looking over at the menu with equally strained eyes as you. That’s not unusual. You’ve learned when to be helpful and when to give someone their time and space. It’s slow now, not like it’s common for more customers to show up this late anyway. 
After a moment, the customer clears his throat again. You turn around, fixing your apron, and work up a friendly smile and a quick “ready to order?” when it dawns upon you that this guy is breathtakingly gorgeous. So much so that if you could take over the rights of the Oxford Dictionary, you would attach this guy’s face underneath the word gorgeous and emo.
Dark wispy bangs, striking teal eyes, long mesmerizing lashes, and lips that naturally fall into a small frown giving him the ultimate resting bitch face. They’re also very kissable lips, and you hate yourself for jumping to that thought so fast. It’s not usual for you to hit on customers, let alone just anyone, and it’s probably safe to say that anyone as handsome as The Duke of the North (because you’ve also been reading too many romance comics on the side and this stranger definitely fits this role) probably has a partner of his own. 
“Hey,” The Duke of the North looks awkwardly pained, as if he hates starting a conversation. His eyes drift down to your name tag that’s proudly displayed on your apron, littered with all sorts of stickers and pins. “I—um, what do you recommend?”
Working in food service made you absolutely hate this question with a burning passion. Everyone’s taste is subjective. You get this question all the damn time, and you have to put on your best customer service act, all preppy and bubbly. It’s not like you hate helping customers, you do. But, when they don’t give you anything to work with, it becomes your fault if the drink is bad. 
Though, for obvious reasons, you don’t mind extending the conversation with The Duke of the North. Just by glance alone, you can tell he’s a bit of a health nut from the lean physique and the hefty gym bag that’s tossed around his shoulders. Looks scary and a little daunting, but you have an inkling feeling he’s more of a traditional type of guy. 
“If you want popular suggestions then I’d rec our brown sugar boba for beginners or, if you want something less sweet, I always prefer our in house rose oolong milk tea.” You answer, good-naturedly.
The Duke of the North seems to be in deep pondering. The look on his face makes you feel a little uneasy, like maybe he’s missing something, but eventually he settles with the latter.  “Rose oolong,” He says thoughtfully, almost unfamiliar with the term. “I’ll have that then.”
“It’s one of our signature drinks,” you ring in his order with a smile, “tends to be popular with a lot of the older women.” There’s tease laced in the tone, but you mean no harm. Maybe just a tiny amount for him coming in before closing. 
And, after collecting the cash payment, you can tell that he’s struggling with the awkwardness hanging in the air. You assume he’s not used to jokes, or even hanging around others willingly for that fact. There was another comment you wanted to ask, more so his background and if he goes to the same university, but it quickly vanishes when the guy scurries to the furthest corner of the shop. 
Okay, that’s fine too. Not everyone is suited for small talk.
You get the feeling that this guy wants to avoid people and maybe he’s also had one hell of a day. You’ve learned pretty early on as a barista to never ask anyone about their problems, only because you’ll accidentally sign up to become their therapist without meaning to. 
You decide to brew up a warm batch of rose oolong tea, despite the fact he never specified if he wanted it hot or iced - he looks like the type of guy to always order a warm drink, even on a summer day. And, being the lovely barista you are, you decide to give him a large for the hell of it. This will go down as your one positive action for today, hoping that the good luck will carry over for tomorrow’s rough schedule.
“Hope you like it,” you present him with the tea and watch him as he swirls the drink around. He doesn’t look upset that it’s warm, so you take that as a good sign. “Feel free to hang back a little, I still have to clean up a couple of things in the back.”
“Sure, thanks,” he nods, and the words sound genuine. Without missing a beat, he retreats back in the corner and pulls out a laptop, notebook, and somehow manages to balance the drink on the cushion next to him. Yeah, definitely a fellow student working overtime like you.
True to your word, you go back to your boring list of chores to do; tons of equipment to be sanitized, chalkboard to be erased and be replaced by tomorrow’s daily specials, counting the register, taking out all the trash… maybe it’s not too late to find a less taxing job.
If you weren’t so tunnel visioned in your deep cleaning, maybe you would’ve noticed The Duke of the North spilling some of the tea on himself, asking if you had some extra tissues he could borrow, but only growing self-cautious when he realized that your earbuds are shoved in. And maybe you’d notice him cleaning up the spill with his own clothes from the gym bag, dabbing the spot furiously and making sure it looked like the same state prior. 
You’re almost done with your long list of closing chores when The Duke of the North returns with an empty cup. “Thanks, again. ‘S was good,” he awkwardly offers up.
“Glad to hear,” you flush a little, because your uniform is a mess, and you clearly look the part still. Nothing is more embarrassing than a cute guy staring down at you while you’re sweaty, tired, and have soap suds all over your apron.
There’s a bit of a silence, and then he says, even more awkwardly, “I’ll, uh, see you around. Good night.”
“Sure,” you reply in a quiet voice, in a tone that’s taken on a dreamy sort of quality. “Night.”
You let out a ragged sigh by the time he was out of sight, praying to see him again in better circumstances. By the time you’re locking the front door, you’re half debating to FaceTime your best friend about the random encounter. Somehow, Sae tends to know just about everyone on campus, even if his friend group only extends out to you. Though, noting that it’s nearly midnight and you should really catch the last bus of the day, you quickly toss that thought out the window and save the energy for tomorrow’s session.
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“Mind tutoring my brother for me?” Sae asks out of the blue the next day.
You flail a little, shooting him an exasperated look over your shoulder as your fingers stop in mid hover over the keys of your laptop. An hour and a half into the TA grading session and somehow things feel slightly more off than yesterday night. 
There’s only one single thought running through your mind as you stare at Sae, best friend of nearly two years, “You have a brother?!”
A swarm of “shh” and “quiet down” soon blows in your direction in the library. You’re quickly met with glares from other senior students from nearby tables and study rooms as you mumble back flurries of “sorry” while Sae only rolls his eyes.
It’s nearing midterms, everyone and their mothers are camped on every floor and crevice of the building, thus making gossiping quite impossible and frowned upon. So you stare in disbelief at your friend on the wild fact that he potentially has a brother and didn’t bother telling you until now. 
Sae blinks, “…Yeah? That’s shocking news to you?”
You laugh a little sheepishly, “You’ve never mentioned having one, let alone anything familial.” Then again, this is Sae. Talk about emotionally guarded. 
“You’ve never asked,” Sae huffs before setting down a stack of graded papers. At the top, you see an unfortunate student’s work marred in everything red from Sae’s corrections. He’s always been a tough grader and, for any poor soul who has to take physics, chances of them retaking are high when he’s TAing.
“No offense, but you’ve always given me only child vibes,” you say, lamely, not hiding the fact you’re mildly annoyed. Seriously, this guy knows just about everything about your personal life and now you’re just finding out about his?
“All offense taken,” he replies dryly. 
You scoot closer and whisper, “So, who’s the unlucky guy?”
Sae heaves, ignoring your comment, and continues, “Rin. He’s been focusing too much on sports lately to care about his midterms. He knows about the arrangement. I would offer to tutor him but… we don’t have the best sibling relationship.”
And, Sae being Sae, this doesn’t really surprise you. “See? The only child vibe checks out.”
“Anyways,” Sae rolls his eyes for the nth time and tosses you a half folded sticky note with the name and contact info of his presumed brother. “He gets his shitty attitude from me, so try not to get too upset if he doesn’t seem talkative.”
“I haven’t even given my answer to—”
“Just how often do I ask for your help?”
“Like never,” your reply is instant and Sae only raises his brows in confirmation. You take that as a sign of he’ll somehow return the favor. It’s a rare opportunity, perhaps even once in a blue moon, but there is just one thing that you’re wondering about—
“Don’t worry about the money, you’re going to be covered,” Sae reassures as he throws another thick stack of exams on top of the finished pile. “He’s a fast learner when he wants to be, just not as of recently since he’s started the semester.”
“I take it he’s a grade below?”
“About two years younger, in honors.”
You laugh, pulling away and readjusting your attention back to your laptop screen. “Seems smarter than you, I like him already.”
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It’s a terrible day, because you’re awake before your alarm. Hell, you’re awake before sunrise.
It’s absolutely nonsense and your boss knows to stop giving you these opening and closing shifts back to back, but apparently nobody else had been available to open. 
“You’re competent,” your boss had said over the phone last night. “I trust you more than our own managers, so you should at least feel proud about that.”
Should you?
Of course, you don’t fall for his stupid flattery, not when your alarm is finally blasting in your ear at five in the morning. Normally, you at least try to make yourself look half-presentable but, working on approximately four hours of sleep, the best you could do for yourself is throw on a sweater and jeans before heading out the door.
As a whole, you really do like your job and usually get the later shift but the recent manager got fired for stealing cash from the register, and your other co-worker called off for the next few weeks due to a family emergency, so now your life is a living hell — at least until they return. And, let’s not forget to mention that somehow you’re also stuck with tutoring your classmate’s younger brother because somehow he couldn’t have done it himself. Also a so-called “family emergency”. 
The only thing you appreciate is at least it’s warm inside the cafe once you’ve turned on the lights and tossed your bookbag in the back room. The store might be short-staffed today, but mornings are always slow, which only means you can at least get paid by watching some YouTube videos while finishing setting the place up.
You barely get through setting up the pastries when there’s a knock on the door. Dear god. It’s barely seven, you’ve been here for exactly fifty minutes, and already you’re debating smashing your face against the coffee machine to put yourself out of this misery. If it’s a customer, you swear you’re going to kill someone.
As you glare intently at the window, in the early morning, pre-dawn glow, you can make out a tall guy, dressed in athleisure, peering through the glass. You’re about to grumble out loud about entitled customers showing up before opening hours but the door knob suddenly turns, all because you were too tired earlier to lock it, so now you have to put on your dumb customer service voice. 
The bell chimes loudly as the guy walks in. The lighting in the coffee shop is low, with that quiet, comfortable ambience of soft piano background music playing through the speakers. Your eyes are still half-awake too, blurry around the edges with sleep. But that face, no one could possibly forget that.
“You’re back,” you say this in awe, offering up your best smile, even though it’s lopsided and droopy. The annoyance ebbs away slowly as the man approaches the counter.
The Duke of the North scratches his cheek, and looks around the cafe a bit more, realizing that he’s quite literally the only one here. “...Am I early?”
“Kinda, we open in thirty minutes,” you shrug. It’s not an accusatory thing, because at least this time he has the manners to come in before it’s open rather than before closing. That’s something you can work with. You were irritated earlier but now you’re suppressing a giggle. “Did you like the drink that much?”
Before he could answer, he tips his baseball cap and grips his bookbag before settling down on the nearest couch by the counter. Wondering if the comment had came out as off putting, you’re about to throw on a free pastry when—
“My brother recommended this cafe. Needed a quiet place to get some work done,” he explains with a slight pause, and continues, “The drink you made was good,” he says quietly and starts unpacking. For whatever reason, that puts a dumb cheesy grin on your face. You’re thankful he’s too occupied to catch that.
“Well, you’re welcome to stop by anytime. Just, you know, within actual store hours.” You laugh when you see the tips of his ear flushing a light shade of red. 
“I suppose you’re right,” and you don’t have to look at him to hear the tiny smile in his voice.
“Did you want me to make you anything?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing at the moment. Thank you.”
You two are quiet again for a long time. He’s minding your space while you’re trying to finish your opening duties. When you’re finally done fiddling with the coffee bean grinder, you twirl around, mind racing and checking off your internal checklist with the next task being to actually open the shop. Though, as you turn, The Duke of the North is already by the front door, flipping the sign over to OPEN. 
Can this guy get any more charming?
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” except that you totally loved the fact that he did just that. Maybe a concerning amount. 
“I was getting up anyways,” he reasons simply with a shrug. Somehow he slightly reminds you of a certain someone, but you ignore the nagging voice inside your head.
“Well, keep that up and we might just hire you,” you tease.
The Duke of the North strolls up to the counter, presenting a credit card in his hand, and looks over the menu behind you. You give him space, but you absolutely try to make out the name on the card. You probably shouldn’t refer to him as The Duke of the North any longer than you should. Then again, if the shoe fits, why change?
Suddenly, the front door bell rings and the sight of maroon catches your attention.
“Sae?”
“You’re here awfully early,” Sae comments, nonchalantly. 
You sigh, rubbing a hand to your temple. “Got moved to first shift, unfortunately.”
“Wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to him,” he nods towards The Duke of the North.
Blinking hastily, you choke out, “Wait, you two know each other?”
“Are you that blind?” Sae deadpans and stands next to the taller male, who looks mildly taken back, like somehow he doesn’t want to be here anymore. “This is Rin. The guy I was talking about yesterday. My brother.”
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To say that you’re shocked might be an understatement. The correct emotion might’ve been appalled, or even dread? You’re not sure. But you weren’t expecting the meeting to be as unnerved as it was. Rin doesn’t even allow Sae to finish explaining, just ends up walking out with the promise of showing up to the shop at the end of your shift. You remember catching Sae’s irritated expression which, in itself, is extremely rare. It placed a strained smile on your face.
Back at your apartment, you’re currently trying to balance this tutoring session by turning it into a personal study time too. Though, you keep the sight of Rin in your peripheral as you complete your assignments in bed. It didn’t take you too long to look through his current curriculum and throw together a few practice and multiple choice questions for a quick knowledge assessment. He seemed pretty adamant about knowing everything, but Sae has his doubts.
Rin keeps looking over at his quiz, your digital clock, and the floor — all in that order. You don’t want to distract him anymore than he already is, though you can’t help but to spare a glance of what he has done so far. 
The multiple choice questions have been filled out, with a couple of eraser bits on the side, but the short answers have hardly been touched. A lofty attempt has been made to the first short answer, where Rin drew a small circuit diagram to determine the internal resistance of a battery, but it kinda just stops at that. Any answers he has written for the problem set are mostly brief notions of what’s already stated in the prompt. 
Rin currently has his fingers knotted in his hair, pencil tapping against the table and, underneath the desk, he’s bouncing his leg like mad.He tries to look indifferent on a surface level, but you can easily see the vein popping out on his neck.
By the time you’ve finished grading, Rin barely scrapes by with a C-. And, while some students would be ecstatic with that, it’s surely not enough to raise his current grade to a passing one. 
Sae mentioned that Rin’s a fast learner when he wants to be and he never said tutoring would be an easy job. No worries, it’s not the first time you had to mentor a student before. What you’re more worried about is how Rin had been so sure that he knew what he was doing… when he obviously doesn’t.
You hand back the paper with the corrected answers in red ink. You even drew a tiny smiley face by his name to give him some sort of comfort, but Rin just makes a disgruntled noise and looks mildly disgusted.
“I don’t need your sympathy.”
You certainly didn’t expect him to snap at you. Rin visibly tenses and blood rushes to your ears.
Your lips part, finding the right words, as he redirects his attention to your bedroom window and stretches his jaw. Then, after an agonizing long pause, he tips his head back, slouches down in the chair, and sighs in defeat. 
“Sorry,” his voice cracks a little and he leans down, resting his forehead on the edge of the table. 
You pinch your lips together, eyebrows raised. He looks frustrated, but you can tell it’s not aimed at you. “Let’s… take a fifteen minute break, how does that sound?”
“I think I should go.” He’s a little breathless, possibly uncomfortable under the weight of your stare. 
“I’m not delicate, Itoshi,” you say, slowly. You’ve dealt with a fair share of angst-ridden undergrads flustering over their assignments. Rin is no different, and you’re not the type to easily give up after a mini meltdown. It’s all about having the right approach, if you send him home now then the next session would just start off even more strained. “Stay for a while longer, we’ll go over everything one by one.”
“It’s fine.”
You sigh, lips curling ever so slightly. “Itoshi, has anyone told you that you’re a terrible liar?”
From the look on his face, it seemed like the world had slipped out from under his feet. You soon realize that Rin almost reminds you of a raging teen, when he’s like this. He’s fiercely independent, that’s for sure. The type that doesn’t like to make others worry but it ends up backfiring in the end. How he’s managed to get through with life is way beyond your comprehension, but you have a feeling that it has something to do with Sae.
“I… I don’t talk about stuff like this,” he admits and chews down on his lip - it seems like a nervous tick, a bad habit. 
“I can tell,” a chuckle bubbles from you but you pause when you catch his glare. You start clearing your throat awkwardly, “I—um, I don’t talk about my feelings often either. I don’t think many people do. We’re all trying to figure things out as we go.”
“Have you figured it out yet?” Rin seems to surprise himself with that question. 
Maybe for him, you look like you’ve got all your shit together. As if you’ve figured out all the great secrets in life. And maybe, you think, he just wants reassurance that he’s not alone, struggling, to find purpose. Or perhaps Rin wants you to offer up some adult advice, something only seniors would know. 
Your eyes widen for a moment. Rin furrows his brows tightly together and stares at you for answers. You both know well enough that you don’t have a solution, but he looks at you anyway. All you offer him back is a warm, big smile. 
“Itoshi, I’m two years older than you. I’ve had a little more years to figure it out,” you begin slowly, “I’ve had my ups and downs, almost flunked out a few courses when I was starting out, too. I didn’t just magically have it all come together.”
He appears doubtful, almost hard to believe. Rin looks like he’s about to protest but one look and he soon realizes that you’re pushing some truth there. You can tell that he’s struggling, mind working in overtime to try and process all of his internal conflicts — only because you’ve gone through the same. 
“Honestly,” you continue, after a long moment of silence, and lean to the side, giving Rin’s shoulder a little nudge, “It’s not my business to dig around your psyche, but just know that you’re welcome to tell me anything. Physics related or not.”
Rin doesn’t say a word, but you take his silence as a contentment. 
“So, uh,” you start to get up from the bed and pace towards the kitchen area, “I have some sliced fruit in the fridge, if you want some. Can’t solve these problems on an empty stomach.”
You two spend the rest of the night assessing the problems he got stuck on and going over shorthand tricks to easily remember what formulas to use. To your surprise, Rin stays mostly quiet and attentive this time around. He doesn’t stare at the worksheet in irritation anymore, and asks questions when he finds himself stuck on a problem. At the end, he manages a passing B on the new practice assessment. And, of course, while downing a bowl of freshly sliced honeydew.
It’s almost midnight by the time he starts heading out. You’re certain that this is going to kick you in the ass tomorrow morning, because you somehow forgot that you have an 8:00 AM class. It’s fine, you think, at least the atmosphere feels a lot lighter than when you guys first started, so you consider that as a plus.
As Rin begins to put on his shoes, you try to lean against the bedroom door casually and nearly fall over. Looking unimpressed, Rin looks up at you.
“Hm?”
“Do you dislike me?”
“You’d already be dead if I hated you,” Rin says this with a certain level of confidence that makes you both shiver and relax at the same time. You’re positive that he isn’t a serial killer but, then again, you don’t know if Sae is the only source of all that pent up angst. 
When his hand rests on the front door knob, Rin suddenly looks back, eyebrows knitted together, and you can’t tell what his expression translates into. Nevertheless, it makes your breath catch in your throat, and you swallow hard. 
“Yes, Itoshi?”
”You… your room is messy,” Rin eventually comments, very unnecessarily, which causes you to release a heavy sigh, sticking a disapproving tongue out.
“Wow, you really do get that shitty attitude from him!”
Rin just snorts, hands in his pockets, and you think this is the first time he’s ever really laughed. It throws you off and, before you get a proper chance to recover, he’s out the door. 
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“You’re surprisingly getting the hang of this, Itoshi” you’re glossing over the practice quiz he had today, feeling a surge of pride knowing that Rin was able to handle it just fine. He ended up receiving a B minus, which is nearly a grade higher from his past averages. Guess a heated vent session is the answer to most problems. 
“I’ve cleared my head,” he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world. 
Outside, a storm rages and rattles the windows every time thunder roars. Typhoon season is nearing as the weather starts to get warmer, which ultimately means your evening shifts are cut early to avoid flood risks and violent winds. It’s been about two weeks since the first tutoring session and there’s been a slow progression in your relationship. 
Having Rin over almost feels weirdly second nature, despite the short amount of time. You try to meet at least three times a week, two of those times happen right after your shift. The thing you miss the most about being a sophomore is the amount of free time you had. Rin’s classes practically finish before three every day and arrive at the coffee shop right after football practice everyday. Majority of the time, it would just be exchanging shorthand greetings but, whenever the evening rush dies down, you try to strike a quick check-in. Afterwards, the two of you  would make the trip back to your apartment to continue the session. 
Which leads to this current situation. 
About an hour into the session you suggested a well needed break, for you at least. You’re laying down in your bed, playing a mobile game on full volume, while Rin is disciplined enough to still scroll over his previous lecture slides at your desk. You’re not sure if this is what he does to “relax”, or if he’s just simply not grown comfortable around you just yet. Either way, it’s hard to believe that you’re being out mentored. 
“You know you can chill, right?”
“I know.” You hear muffled sounds of a lecture recording from his laptop. 
“Well, I don’t hear you chilling.”
“I don’t need to be.”
Okay, yeah, you’re starting to see the family resemblance here. But it’s going to take a lot more than that to stop you. How else have you survived as Sae’s best friend for two years?
“Don’t you have any fun weekend plans?” 
Rin shakes his head, eyes never leaving his screen. “Maybe not fun by your definitions.”
Your ears perk at this and you subtly lower the volume of the game. Maybe this is a sign to get to know his likes and dislikes, and whether or not he has a significant other — because that’s all important information. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. If Rin just so happens to be in a relationship, then you’ll easily set aside that growing curiosity. If he’s not, then a little harmless flirting won’t harm anyone, right?
“Itoshi,” you sit up from the bed with more purpose than before, Rin seems to catch on and visibly grimaces. “Tell me, I wanna know.”
“We should probably go back to studying,” he sighs.
You hop to your feet, sauntering to the desk and shutting his laptop with ease. Ohm’s Law can wait just a little while longer. “You’ve been at it nonstop since we’ve arrived here. It’s not good to cram everything in that big head of yours, that’s how people burn out faster. C’mon, a ten minute break won’t kill you.”
Rin doesn’t bother to argue against you, he’s been over well enough to pick up that you won’t let him become a complete workaholic. 
“Fine,” he gets up and makes his way over to sit on the edge of your bed, because if he doesn't then you’ll eventually force him to sit elsewhere. Something about separating work and personal spaces to improve learning.
You plop down a few inches away with a winning smile, “So, what are your plans?”
“Football practice—”
“Something other than what I already know.”
He exhales loudly. “Catching up on coursework at the cafe, probably.”
This takes you by surprise, only because you work this upcoming weekend. “Really? Well, guess we’ll see each other then.” Maybe tenacity is just rooted deeply in the family’s genes.
“It’s a nice place,” he reasons, sneaking a glance at you.
You begin squirming, trying to turn from Rin without looking like a complete idiot. Then, slowly, “...What do you like about it?”
And, of course, the words barely escape your lips when the whole building seems to creak and groan under the effort of the storm. The power flicks suddenly around the room, and then it’s complete, utter darkness.
You don’t feel Rin’s presence next to you until a sudden gust of air hits your ear. You flinch and clap a hand over your ear while Rin mumbles out a quick apology and stumbles to establish his own personal space on the bed. 
It starts to rain heavier now, water slapping hard against the window panels in big, ugly raindrops. You should probably get up and find a flashlight or any lighting of some sort, something to make the situation less awkward, but your body feels like a rock. You don’t want to move but, at the same time, your mind is telling you to run far, far away from Rin.
Heart throbbing against your chest, you gather up the courage to look at Rin’s face with the help of the dim lighting from the window sill. His eyes are half-lidded, seemingly glazed over in deep thought. He doesn’t say a single word, and every moment of his silence stirs the growing anxiousness inside. You swallow, suddenly aware that he’s beginning to unravel your sanity just by being there besides you. 
“Are you, um, are you okay with thunderstorms?” you adjust your position with shaky limbs, trying your best to not cross his physical boundaries.
Rin fidgets in response, but you can tell he’s also trying to keep his cool. “I’m fine with them. I just wasn’t expecting the power to suddenly…”
“Yeah, my apartment sucks,” you groan, inwardly. “This doesn’t happen all the time, I swear.” A flash of lightning illuminates the room, you squint against the light. “Maintenance won’t be on site ‘till tomorrow morning. I doubt you want to stay so we’ll have to cut the session short for today.”
You feel the mattress dip a little. The two of you fall silent, and there’s a weird awkward tension hanging in the room, one where it leaves you both red and flushing. Your mind is racing, and there’s a million questions. He hasn’t made any moves of getting up, nor has he said anything about leaving. It’s a bit uncharacteristic for Rin to be unsure in a given situation like this, or is he just being polite? This feels different from your first meeting, it’s still unpredictable, still a confusing mess.
“Or we could talk!” you quickly add on. “I…uh, if you want to talk, that is.”
After a few more moments of that awkward, creeping silence permeating the room, Rin sighs. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk about,” he whispers and looks up, his face looking worn out.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Silence is also okay.”
“I like silence,” he confesses.
“We can just sit here then,” you agree, “silence in itself can be therapeutic, too.”
You don’t necessarily agree with yourself. If it’s not for work at the cafe, you spend a good deal of your time in silence. Studying, grading students’ papers, thinking about your family back home, and preparing for life after graduation. It all gets overwhelming when you sit and process everything in your mind. Even so, the silence that falls between you and your best friend’s brother feels comfortable, in spite of the initial close proximity. You find yourself leaning back into the bed frame’s headboard, curling up sideways.
About ten minutes in, Rin cracks.
“When I was a kid, I used to be afraid of storms. Sae used to make dumb blanket forts with me. It’s silly, but…”
And, despite it being dark, you shoot him a knowing look. For a moment, Rin looks like he regrets even opening his mouth, like he’s about to blurt out a quick ‘nevermind’, but you don’t give him a chance.
“I’m listening, you don’t have to stop.” Unknowingly, you give his shoulders a little nudge of encouragement. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Rin thinks it over, and he only has to for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
He talks for a while, until he runs out of things to say. Or, rather, he runs out of energy to say anything. His thought process is a jumbled mess of how his relationship with Sae developed. Being the younger sibling, it’s natural for Rin to look up to his brother, to want to gain acknowledgement and become some sort of a mirror image. The thought of Sae looking after Rin while both of their parents were working overtime to provide for their education is also something you could heavily relate to. Around some point down the line, Sae began to distance himself from Rin without any apparent reasoning, at least in his eyes. Towards the end, it becomes a rambling about nothing, too, and you’re positive that Rin hasn’t even gotten into the meat of the issue.
Rin appears mildly exhausted, flustered, and a little embarrassed by the time he’s done. He turns to you, eyes narrowed, “Don’t say that you feel sorry for me, I’ve heard it about a dozen times already. It gets old.”
You shake your head, processing everything. You can tell he has so much more he wants to get off of his chest, so many things he wants to unload, things that he hasn’t even realized that’s been weighing him down. 
“I wasn’t gonna say that,” and he stays still, studying your next words with high concentration. “Sae and I have been close for quite a while, and I totally get how he’s an ass—to you and just about everyone else. He’s abrasive and straight to the point with a lot of things. Also pretty sure he’s allergic to communication. Hell, I’m not entirely sure how I was able to get close to him in the first place,” you flare a deep breath out of your nose and rhythmically tap your fingers along your thighs. “But I know he has a weird way of caring for others, too.”
“How so?” Rin doesn’t sound annoyed, just confused. Almost hopeful, even. 
“Well, he’s signed you up for tutoring, which might actually not be a good example of care but, um… He normally hates asking people for favors. This is just an unconventional way of saying that he’s making sure you’re doing okay.”
“Could’ve said it himself.”
“Yeah, well, you came to the cafe because he told you, right?”
With that, he quickly shuts his mouth, forming it into a subtle pout. Is he embarrassed that you’re right?
Another flash of lightning comes by, followed by low rumbling thunder. Then, an idea brews.
“This is gonna sound a bit crazy but… do you wanna build a fort?”
Rin snorts. “What’s with that?”
“Well, it doesn't seem like you’re in a rush to leave. Then again, maybe a taxi service would be expensive right now…”
He offers up little resistance to your suggestion and ends up dragging a couple of chairs into your living room from the kitchen. You dig around in your closet and pull out a heavy winter blanket, the ones with a giant tiger imprinted on the front. It’s been stored away for quite some time, leaving bits of dust and other mysterious remnants in the air as you straighten the fabric out. Hopefully Rin’s not sensitive to dust mites. 
One side of the blanket is stretched around the edge of the couch and tucked beneath the cushions. Another corner is wrapped and fastened clumsily around a chair. It hangs over the edge of the coffee table and is held in place by the second chair in the corresponding corner. The overall impression is ridiculous, but there's a decent space on the floor in front of the sofa. 
“That’s a bit better,” you decide, with a faint laugh. 
You’re pressed close to one another, and you have to admit that it’s intimate in a way that you didn’t expect. The air is a little warm, heavy with their breath and the faint heat from the candles. It’s… nice. Outside, the wind is howling, but it is fainter, partially obscured by the blanket barrier that keeps the outside world away.
You decide to stream a horror movie to pass the time, until the weather subsides a bit. You’ll probably go over your data plan for the month, but right now, you don’t really care. You prop the phone up against one of Rin’s textbooks that he didn’t get the chance to go over today, and end up watching a really shitty slasher movie from the 80’s.
At some point, you doze off, leaning in and head tipping to tentatively rest on his shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position. You’re both slouched back against the couch, pillow wedged under your backs. Your phone eventually runs dead, and the candles burn into nothing—smoldering and smoking as they sputter out.
“Hey,” Rin faintly calls out your name. “It’s getting late.”
You stir in your sleep, finding the strength to open your eyes and tilt your head up. You’re sure that your heart is going to stop beating when he takes notice. The look on your face must’ve been a good one, because now Rin’s six shades of red deeper and he’s got his hand over his mouth. 
“Oh god, I’m sorry, Itoshi!”
“It’s… okay,” his voice is low, sounding almost uncertain. “Rin is also fine.”
You fail to notice his fingers making their way past your forearm, past your neck, until you feel them settle on your warm cheek. Shivers course through your body, and the resulting sounds you release is halfway between a sigh and a whimper. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed, and you’re positive yours are no different.
“Sorry, Rin…” you’re apologizing again, his name sounds foreign on your tongue but feels like home all at the same time. Your voice begins to trail off. You can’t finish, your eyes are already closed, head tilted. As you breathe, with your heart rattling in your throat, you feel Rin lean in close.
As soon as you collide into him, his lips meld against yours.
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It’s funny how life works. Some days seem to drag, impossibly slow, especially when you’re trapped in your own mind — replaying everything, obsessing over every single action you’ve done wrong in your life. There are days where you barely get out of bed until it’s time for classes or to get ready for work, where you just go through the motions. 
Other days, they fly by in the blink of an eye. Sometimes it’s because you hole yourself up at the library, nose glued to your textbooks, and body running on adrenaline. Other times, it’s because you keep replaying that kiss you gave Rin, wondering what it means, or if it just means nothing at all. You remember being roped in by the shy, tentative edge in his voice that reminded you when you first met him at the shop, where you first had been infatuated.
Rin hasn’t spoken to you since that night at your apartment. On one hand, while you’re worried that you might’ve said something out of line, and maybe that kiss came off too strong. Which, of course it fucking came off too strong. You kissed your best friend’s brother, and that just spells disaster on its own. Although, on the other hand, you’re glad that you guys are on a first name basis.
That’s fine. Rin seems to be going through a lot and the best professional way to handle this situation is to be… professional. Everything is all too much, and you've decided that you need to take a break.
That night, you’ve made a quick trip home after work to stay at your family’s. You don’t have time to mull over a certain junior of yours, not when you have your own things to take care of. 
Your parents’ are currently on their anniversary date, leaving behind your two younger siblings all by themselves. You think two eight year olds could handle themselves just fine for a few hours but, then again, kids these days are just built differently.
You ended up ordering takeout and made them sit through a painstakingly long foreign film. Subtitles always put kids to sleep faster, you’ve learned. After carrying them to bed, you decide to spend the rest of your night sitting outside on the patio and wait for the return of your parents.
The skies are always clearer in the suburbs compared to the bustling city lights that pollute everywhere else. You sit down on a small plastic chair, one belonging to your siblings, and spend a good few minutes appreciating the twinkling stars and the raw smell of the countryside. You fix your gaze out in the distance, at the same hills and mountains the sprawling city overlooks.
Feeling inspired, you fish out your phone and decide to send Sae a quick picture of the surroundings with the caption ‘miss you loser :P’. It’s a small mini-game that you two started a year back, sending each other photos whenever away from campus, even though it’s mainly you sending the photos and he sends back middle finger emojis. 
Though, as soon as you hit the send button, dread immediately fills your gut. 
“Wait, shit, shit—wrong brother!” 
Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare at the now seemingly flirty caption and, dear lord, your reputation might as well be down the gutters. This will go down as probably the most embarrassing moments of your life, and what makes things even worse is that you know Rin has seen it because three gray dots are now jumping up and down in the chat log.
God, what are you even supposed to say to that?
[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I’m sorry?
When you receive the responding text, you feel yourself losing ten years off your lifespan. You bury your face into your hands and whine, loudly. 
This incident on top of whatever the hell happened during the night of the storm… Rin probably thinks you’re a creep for doing this. You can already imagine how it’ll play out: Rin tells Sae that you’re harassing him, Sae stops being your friend, and you’ll probably have to drop out and move out of the country. Rin might never even show himself to you again, and that thought alone makes your throat tighten up.
However, before you can descend into further madness, if that’s even possible, your phone vibrates again. You swallow the needles in your throat and peek through the cracks between your fingers.
[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Looks nice. 
And, to your surprise, there’s an image attached to the text. It’s a dim photo of his opened textbook, a filled in study guide sheet beside his laptop, and on the right side of his desk is a drink from the cafe. You want to make a dumb oolong tea joke, but now you feel bad for disrupting his study session. 
Then, another notification comes through.
[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Miss you too. :P
Your heart promptly multiplies into a thousand pieces. You lean into the chair, almost tipping yourself over. Your heart’s beating so hard that you can practically feel it pulse against your temples. Taking deep breaths, you don’t look at your phone until the urge to run away fades. 
It feels like you're dreaming, and you know it’s absolutely stupid and silly, that you feel like you’re floating right into a dumb romance drama right now, but you can’t help it. Not when Rin is pulling stunts like this. He probably meant it as a joke, maybe only responded back to mirror you, who knows. But someone like him should not have the power to be so, so adorable under all that hard exterior. That’s just illegal…
“God,” your breath shudders out and you thumb over the keyboard to respond back.
[You]: didn’t mean to send that to you haha… ;; [You]: but i take it that studying is going well??
Rin replies back within seconds.
[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I know. [Sae’s Brother!!!]: Studying’s been fine. Might need to look over something when we meet up again, if that’s okay. [You]: of course!! just lemme know what day works :)
Rin sends you a thumbs up emoji and you don’t get a response for a while after that, figuring that he probably went back to work. It doesn’t matter anyway, because it feels like a hundred pounds just got lifted from your shoulders and you feel so light that you’re convinced that you can see the stars even clearer now. 
Thank the heavens he didn’t make it weirder than it already was.
Fuzzy-brained, you decide that it might be best to call it a night and retreat back into the house and towards your old bedroom. Even while laying down on your plush mattress, curled up, with the aircon on blast, you couldn’t fall asleep — at least, not for a long while.
By the time you pass out, it’s from sheer exhaustion and adrenaline rush. Your phone remains gripped against your chest as you sleep, and you end up missing another message from Rin late in the night.
[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Your manager doesn’t make good oolong. Come back soon.
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There are several moments when you tell yourself you need to take a couple steps back. That you really, really need to calm down about Itoshi Rin.
The rest of the week comes and goes. You haven’t seen Rin in a few days. You guys sorta text, with him giving you curt updates on his assignments, but Rin goes long periods of time without replying. And, when he does reply, even though it’s just a text on screen, you get a distinct idea that he’s probably tired. So most of the time you end up lounging around at Sae’s apartment, busying yourself with your own assignments and bothering Sae about the end of the year assessment. And maybe you mope to him about his younger brother. Just a little bit.
“Does Rin hate me?” 
“Why do you ask?” You could practically hear the eye roll in his response.
You feel a bit juvenile when you explain the reasoning, it’s obvious in your tone. “He’s, um, been kinda dry.”
“Is water dry?”
“...No?”
“Then there’s your answer,” Sae yawns and flips to the next page in whatever new psychological thriller novel he picked up. “Should feel lucky that he’s even responding back, I barely get an emoji out of him.”
Part of the fun thing about being friends with Sae is having full 24 hour access to his apartment. Whenever you’re running low on food, it doesn’t matter if it’s milk or potatoes, somehow there’s always extras at his place. The least fun thing about being friends with him is that he’s god awful at keeping up with conversations. Or, at least in this case, giving you advice on how to approach Rin appropriately.
You decide to change up the topic, slightly. Your mind’s currently running on three shots of espresso and one shitty breakfast sandwich from the dining hall, not really the best combo, and the words start flooding out. “On a different note, if someone you kinda just met shows a side of them that they’ve probably never shown to anyone, how would you react?”
Sae straightens from the couch, eyes flickering to you then back to the book. “Depends on who it is,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound too interested in the conversation.
“Wise words, I see…” you hum in deep thought. You begin strutting around the tiny living room, circling around in front of the TV and keeping a somewhat watchful eye on Sae as you choose your next words carefully. “What if… it’s like a big thing? Super pent up for so long that they just start pouring all their emotions onto you? How would you react to that?”
“Sounds like a weird person. I would probably leave,” Sae’s voice is dismissive.
You groan, fully understanding Rin’s personal dilemma. “At least pretend to be serious right now!”
And, with that, he shuts his book and rests his cheek against his palm, sighing. “Maybe they told you because they’re afraid of talking to their close friends. Or maybe they just feel comfortable around you, I don’t know. Since you’re so caught up about this… who are you talking about?”
Shit, he caught on. 
Sae hardens his gaze on you, suspicion sprawled across his sharp features.
“I—um, uh, it’s a classmate of mine! We were going over grad school applications and they seemed really lost about if they wanted to apply or not… I was just a little surprised when they started talking about their insecurities with me, that’s all. We’re a little bit closer now, though…” your voice trails off and Sae cocks his head a little, pursing his lips, but decides to leave the topic be.
“Right, well… how are Rin’s studies coming along?” Sae asks after a long pause and backs out of your space. 
It’s not like Rin’s doing terribly at his studies. He’s picking up some of the methods and variables faster than most people in your department, perhaps even learning at a faster pace than yourself. Though, and this is just an observation, you’ve noticed that Rin rarely takes notes in his classes. When he does, well, it’s sloppy and unfocused. You’re starting to worry, since his midterm is rounding the corner, and you’ve been itching to ask if he remembers the material or if he doesn’t care. You want to, really, but it’s technically not your job to look after him full-time.
Unless it totally has something to do with the weird family dynamic that you can never really nail down? Yeah, you’re definitely not sticking your nose into that mud anytime soon. The last time you did that, well… 
“He’s doing fine!” You offer up that much. It’s a little taste of honesty. Not the full truth. Somehow, you know that Sae is damn well aware of that, too.
“As long as he’s motivated, that’s all that really matters.” Sae mumbles. He drops the conversation and it’s probably a good thing, because you can’t concentrate at all.
By the end of this particular meeting, you feel like you’re going to vomit. Your stomach has jumped into your throat, and you’re struggling to keep your breakfast down. It’s way too late to call out of work, so you power through and manage to make it in time for your shift. It’s not until you arrive that you notice a familiar tuff of black hair behind the register, eyes glimmering with all flirt and talk with a female student across the counter. 
Then, it hits you, if there’s one person other than Sae who can give mildly okay advice, it’s him.
When the evening rush dies down, you relay the situation back to Oliver, throwing on the crucial details—well, minus the kiss—unfortunately you can’t risk that information going out of his mouth. Unlike Sae, he shows interest from the get go, providing you live reactions and commentary as the story continues. When asked for his thoughts, Oliver covered his face and howled in laughter for a long while, getting stares from customers, before leaning in and eyes you very seriously.
“Kid’s got a massive crush on you, that’s for sure.”
Oliver is obviously a better listener compared to Sae, but also has a tendency to stretch things out for dramatic purposes. You should’ve mentally prepared yourself for this.
“Wait a sec,” Oliver sits on the countertop, despite the rules encouraging against it written on the chalkboard behind him, ponders hard for a moment, and then, “You like him!”
You almost spill a shot of espresso all over your fingers, letting out a small screech, and look up, doing a bit of a double take at your friend. “Don’t you have better jokes to make?!”
Oliver tosses you a clean towel from underneath the counter space and offers an apologetic smile, but he looks amused. “You wanted my honest opinion. Hot, young stud falls for his tutor who also works as a barista? The prompt just writes for itself.”
You swallow a gagging noise. “Please don’t ever refer to Rin as a hot, young stud… even if it is true.”
“If we want to peel back several more layers, maybe this is all part of Sae’s elaborate plan to hook you up with someone.”
“Can’t you have another family emergency again?” You like Oliver. He’s possibly your only favorite coworker out of all the other part-timers, but you’re very unimpressed with him right now. “I’m still in college. You’re acting like I’m going to be forever alone, or something.”
“While that might be true,” Oliver agrees, mildly. “I still think the kid might just be bad with… y’know, showing emotions.” He motions his hands in a heart shape near his chest. “I was like that when I was his age, too.”
“Gross, now you’re just making yourself sound like an old man.” With that beard, it sure adds a few years to his face. No wonder he’s so popular with the ladies.
“You should be more honest with yourself,” he softly chastises, offering you a blueberry muffin that he definitely stole from the back. “Life would feel a lot easier.”
“You talk as if I’m a fictional character in some stupid story,” you sigh, gracefully accepting the baked good in defeat.
There’s a part of you that feels bitter after the conversation, afraid that he’s right. You’ve been solely focusing on your academics for the most part, and that’s not to say that you haven’t had others showing interest in you. 
You remembered Oliver hounding you down on your very first day at the coffee shop, trying to get your attention by making you clean up his spills, not sure why he thought that was a good idea… Another guy from your department also tried hitting asking you out by creating a fake math problem that would eventually lead to him asking for your number, but the variables were messed up and all over the place that it didn’t make any sense. 
You don’t put relationships on a high pedestal, and you don’t necessarily need to be in one right now. Maintaining a steady income and keeping your scholarship should be your top priority. That, and not falling for your best friend’s brother.
Things go uneventfully for a little while longer at the shop. You and Oliver were going to put on the latest episode of the Bachelor to pass the remaining shift but, by the time you were just about to finish setting up the monitor, the front door bell chimes.
You blink. You and Oliver are in the corner tucked at the back of the store. It’s ten minutes until closing and your stomach churns wildly at the thought of another inconsiderate customer. Because if it happens to be another frat guy ordering a “secret menu” item that some person made up on TikTok again… well, you’re gonna start crying.
“I’ll go take care of it,” you sigh, fishing out the store’s keys out of your pocket. “Just tell me who the guy ends up with.”
Oliver grins as he presses the play button. “Roger that, boss.”
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You hadn’t really expected to see Itoshi Rin of all people to swing by.
He barely gets any words out when you emerge to the front counter, needless to say you were the same. After a few mindless scrabbling around and awkward shifting, Rin spits out that he needs an emergency tutoring session, back at his apartment of all places. And, at some point in the night, between your mind turning into mush and Rin refusing to look you in the eyes, Oliver sends you off a little early before you have the chance to help him close.
Which ultimately leads you off here.
“So, what’s the burning question you have for me?” you ask, setting down your book bag on the floor. 
Rin’s apartment is a lot minimalistic compared to yours, and more on the traditional side. His place is a bit further out of the downtown area, into the quieter parts of Tokyo, but not terribly far from the school’s public transit. Here, the buildings aren’t skyscrapers and the traffic is manageable, which means a lot more parks and greenery. 
Instead of a dining table with chairs, he opted for a low coffee table and cushions instead. There’s tatami flooring, a small bookshelf in the corner with organized sports magazines, textbooks, and a few horror films. Hanging on the walls are a variety of posters; most of them are famous foreign football players and some are a few popular movie covers. 
The coffee table is placed right near his bedside, so it makes a perfect back rest for you. Rin keeps a small desk lamp on, he’s mentioned to you in passing that small amounts of warm lighting helps him focus. This setup is certainly a lot more comfortable compared to yours.
Rin decides to sit next to you this time, pulling out an array of notebooks from his bag and fidgets with his pens on the table before flipping to his last pages of notes. “It’s about… torque and resistance.” He buries half of his face into his palm as his fingers trace, almost obsessively, through the notes. From one glance, his writing looks coherent enough, better from when he first started out.
“Um, yeah, sure,” you keep a close eye on him. Rin is behaving rather strangely. Restless, agitated, annoyed, or a combination of all three. Though, a minute into the small lecture, Rin softly calls out your name. “Y-Yes?” you can begin to feel your neck growing dangerously hot.
“About that night, last week…” he finally pushes the words out, but lets them hang in the air, inconclusive.
Your cheeks flare up, and you turn away, clearly embarrassed. Suddenly, you feel like a complete idiot all over again. “I—I’m sorry about that,” you stammer out, staring down at your fingers. “I don’t know what came over me, everything was so dark and—”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he consoles, quickly. “I’m glad that it happened. It was… I… it was good.”
It’s a bit of a rambling response, but it leaves you stunned and flustered, without even realizing it.  You finally turn to look at him, eyes a little misty, your cheeks still warm. You’re relieved by Rin’s reply. You open your mouth to respond back, but nothing tangible comes out.
“I want it to happen again,” Rin finds himself saying, tone suddenly low and dark. He shoots you a look, one that you can’t quite interpret. It’s like he’s hovering somewhere between concern and fear that he’s pushing too far. And maybe he is, but you are too.
You let your legs slip out from underneath and you lean up against Rin’s bed. If it wasn’t there, you’d collapse for sure.
Rin follows suit but pulls away from you abruptly, and you manage to look up just in time to catch the flush in his cheeks and neck. It’s hard to see it in the dark but, if Rin’s body language is anything to go by, he’s incredibly embarrassed. 
“Are you okay?” His voice is quiet, and you manage a shaky nod, but that nod is immediately followed by another involuntary sound from the back of your throat.
“I, um, should we tell…?” 
You’re not entirely sure where Rin stands with his relationship with Sae, nor if both of you can predict the outcome of what would happen. Sae is still a close friend, but you can’t hide the fact that you like Rin away from him forever. Plus, would this even realistically work out? Graduate school, job interviews, things of that sort aren’t in Rin’s horizons, but…
“We don’t have to do anything right now,” he seems to catch on and clears his throat, looking away. “I just wanted to make my feelings clear.”
You briefly think back to Oliver’s advice earlier in the night, about being more honest with your feelings. How things will magically become easier. It’ll be unfair if you didn’t pour out your heart like Rin had done just now. But words can’t be the only way of showing your honesty.
“We can take it slowly,” you stumble out.
Screw it, maybe you can ask Sae for a favor after you’re done tutoring.
Those words seem to melt Rin’s hard exterior almost instantly. Wrapping both your arms around his neck, you press a chaste kiss to his inviting lips.
Rin doesn’t say anything else, but there’s another little teasing nudge of his shoulder bumping against yours, and it somehow communicates more than it should.
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taglist: @hellothere9597 @itzmeme @scaraslover @kidd3ath @torureadz
a/n: hi again everyone... if you've made it this far - thank you ;; this piece might just be the longest fic i've ever written (to date...) and tbh im not sure if i like it ? maybe i do idk!! there were so many times i wanted to throw my laptop against the wall gaah did you know that i originally wanted sae to come in and interrupt towards the end? thank god i didnt otherwise our two main love birds wouldn't have been able to kiss... anyways, ty for reading and hopefully you'll see me around more <3 <3 ty i love you
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selineram3421 · 2 months
Text
*friend comes up with something*
Royally Pissed
Part 1
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Prologue
Alastor X Morningstar Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ Italics=thoughts, implied/suggestive *cough* bedroom name ⚠
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In all honesty, Alastor didn't know why he did it but it just happened.
He pulled the small blonde out of the way, holding them close to his chest as a large dust cloud came from the now broken chandelier.
Mostly everyone in the room coughed as they tried to clear the dust from themselves.
"Are you hurt?", he asked them, noticing that the top of their head barely reached his chin.
How small.
"I'm fine.", they turned away to cough. "That was a lot of dust.."
Before he could ask for their name again, they were suddenly pulled away by none other than the King, Lucifer.
"ALRIGHT THEN!", he said before pulling them towards Charlie.
Haha!
The blonde slid over to his daughter, bringing along his other child as he began.
Looks like you could use some help
From the big boss of Hell himself
He held Charlie close before pushing her to see him sitting on a throne with fire rising behind it.
Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp
He sang, scrolling on his hellphone to show her the reviews.
(Five star! Flawless! Greater than great!)
Three puppets said one after the other.
Oh, with the punch of a pentagram
A wap-bam-boom! Alakazam!
Alastor rolled his eyes as he watched on, but then he was suddenly pouring wine into a glass.
Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?
The deer demon was pulled by the waist and landed in a pan, ears folded back as he angrily smiled at the King who grinned evily before he was flipped onto his front.
(Wow~)
I'm going to kill him.. Alastor thought before lifting himself up.
.
You were pulled into song and at the moment, were now sitting at a dinner table with your sister as your father was dressed like a server, hand about to reveal a meal.
Michelin-tasting menu
He lifted up the silver cloche, revealing a a "decapitated" Alastor, then some tentacles with red eyeballs, and finally a cake with him holding Alastor's head.
Free à la catre!
Oook.. You cringed. Dad doesn't like Alastor.
I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref!
He started focusing more on Charlie and started to make more things appear.
Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just the start~!
And then Alastor jumped in with blacklight, his backgrounds looking vibrant.
Who's been here since day one?
The deer demon pushed your father away, making him spin out of song.
Who's been faithful as a nun?
He was suddenly dressed as a nun, holding his hands in a praying position.
Much like how your father changed his scenes quickly, so did Alastor. You were having some trouble keeping up with it. His appearance looking slightly different with the lighting, his irises now green.
I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond
"Aw.", Charlie smiled.
He was now at the top of the stairs with your sister.
You're like the child that I wish that had
Alastor cupped your sister's face,
"Uh, what?", your dad said shocked.
Then your sister was like a child tucked in bed, literally. Alastor sitting at the edge and patting her head.
I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned
"Hold on now!", your father lifted up a finger.
The deer demon suddenly leaned his elbow on top of your dad's head, smooshing the white top hat.
It's a little funny
He started and pulled your sister to face away from your father.
You could almost call me Dad!
Suddenly you pulled into the song and were spun into a dip, finding Alastor smiling down at you with a seductive gaze.
(You can call me Daddy~), he whisper sang to you.
Your face turned bright red as you let out a squeak.
.
How adorable~ His smile widened as he saw them hide their blushing red face with their hands.
Now this one was on purpose.
After seeing the immediate reaction Lucifer had with him touching them. Oh, he had to cross multiple lines to see what the man would do next.
They were practically shaking in his hands, no doubt a little overwhelmed with what he had just sang just for their ears alone.
Let's see if I can fluster them more. He thought and raised a hand towards their face.
Suddenly they were ripped out of his hold and it was just the two men on stage.
The King growled, face darkening before he began to angrily play a fiddle, walking up to him with a scowl.
Alastor just smiled, standing up straight with his hands behind his back. Taking a step back as he dropped a piano on the short King before taking a seat on the piano bench, playing it confidently and showing off his skills before cringing at a loud sound.
His piano solo interrupted by an accordion.
Looking behind him, he saw Lusifer holding the instrument above his head with a frown, playing just one long note.
Really? He thought with a raised brow.
The two glared at each other before the spotlights above the two flickered out.
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*me and my friend holding back our laughter* We can't laugh! It's 2 am!
~Seline, the person.
Part 2
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @valenfawkes @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @+?
Taglist continued in the comments🔪
ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑
1K notes · View notes
help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
Text
Summoning Game Show Part 7
Masterpost
Okay. This is technically the end of Summoning Game Show! There is room to write more, but that probably won't be coming for a little bit. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and sharing. I am so so happy that people liked it and interacted and everything. I had a great time and I hope you like the end.
~~~~~
Red, Nightwing, and Robin soon find themselves in an office/meeting room of sorts. They’re seated on a couch in front of a table. 
Danny closes the door behind them. “I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think you could drink it.”
Danny takes a seat on a loveseat across the table from them. He has a small green dog with a spiky collar sitting in his lap and he pets him absentmindedly as he gets settled. Robin is laser focused on the dog.
“What would you guys like to talk about?”
“Who is that?” Robins asks immediately.
“This is Cujo!” Danny smiles down at the Cujo and he wags his tail when he hears his name. “You guys don’t mind him being in here right? He’s mostly well behaved.”
Robins shakes his head. “We don’t mind. Just…”
“Ah, dead animal. Well, animals get ghosts too.” Danny explains. “ Personally, I like to think that Cujo is happy.”
“His collar says Axion Labs.” 
Danny nods at Robin, fingers playing with the collar. “ He used to be a guard dog for them.” 
“What-” Robin is cuts off as Danny and Cujo start glowing more brightly, Cujo starts growling and his form flickers.
“Never- never- ask a ghost how they died.” The boys all nodded, and Danny and Cujo stabilized as they calmed down. “It’s very rude. Now, to business, why did you want to summon me? ”
“We do a lot of travel, space, dimensions and everything and we just wanted to learn more about this realm. Maybe set up communications, that kind of thing. A learning experience.” Nightwing explains.
“I mean, we clearly don’t know enough considering we didn’t know you could help Hood. Or that he needed help in the first place.” Red mutters the last bit. 
Danny eyes them all warily. “Historically, we don’t really do well when people want to learn more about us. What exactly do you need this information for?
“”Just to learn. I told you, I like to know things.” Red said.
“Well, I can’t just give out any information, but if you want to ask me some questions until Hood gets back, I’ll answer what I can.”
“What is this place actually called?” Nightwing asks.
“Oh, it has lots of names, because it’s lots of places. This is the Infinite Realms, home to all afterlives and the dimension between dimensions.” 
“Home to all afterlives?” Red is flabbergasted. Red wasn’t sure that he believed in any afterlives, and now there are multiple? “So you’re all dead?”
“No.” They wait a moment but Danny does not elaborate.
“So there are living people here?” Nightwing asks.
“Obviously.”Danny makes a face at them. “Everyone here is living. You need better terminology. Humans are very narrow when it comes to life and death.”
“That’s because usually you’re either dead or alive.” Robin is struggling to comprehend the possibility of an in-between.
“That seems very narrow-minded coming from people who came here with someone both alive and dead.”
“Hood?” Red asks.
“Hood is alive.” Nightwing states.
“And dead!” Danny chirps. “There are many in-betweens, most leaning to one side or the other. Hood leans more towards being alive, but his being alive is dependent on ectoplasm, so he’s at least a little dead. Though the fact that he was able to live with the ectoplasm he has means that he is mostly alive.”
“What is ectoplasm and how did Hood get it?” Red is very curious now.
“Oh, everything. Most of the Infinite Realms is made out of ectoplasm , including most creatures in it. “ Danny puts his hand together and green liquid pools in it. The same green as everything outside.
“So, that’s probably the Lazarus pits.” Red mutters. “ Explains the exposure bit.”
“You have ectoplasm in your dimension?” Danny asks.
The boys nod. “There are a few pools of it around. One guy in particular likes to hoard them to keep from dying.” 
Danny frowns. 
“That’s a violation. Ectoplasm is poisonous for humans, radioactive.” Danny complains. “And if his ectoplasm is as bad as the ectoplasm in your friend, that is not healthy.”
“It would be, he’s the one who exposed Hood to it in the first place.”
Danny groans. “Alright, I’m going to need a list of all the locations you know of in your dimension, and if you have a way for me to contact whoever is hoarding the ectoplasm that would be great. I’m going to have to take care of that.”
There’s a knock on the door and Danny calls, “Come in!”
Frostbite opens the door for Hood, who comes in without his helmet, but with a mask on. “Guys, this is my new doctor. He’s great.” Hood says.
“Glad you’re doing better!” Danny smiles at them both as Hood takes a seat. Frostbite nods his head, then leaves again, shutting the door behind him. “Frostbite gave you a rundown of what’s to do and what’s going to happen now that you have healthy ectoplasm?”
“Yep, explained all the side effects, but I’m already feeling much better.”
“Wonderful! So If you guys wouldn’t mind just giving me that information so I can follow up on it, I think we’re done here.”Danny stands, putting Cujo on the seat as he vacates it. 
“We would like to be able to get in contact with you, if you’re coming to our dimension, that way we can tell the rest of the heroes what you’re up to and everything. Is there any way to communicate between our dimensions?” Red asks.
“Frostbite also said I would need to discuss a way to get fresh ectoplasm from you until I can create my own reliably.” Jason cuts in.
“Well, looks like I have lots of business in your dimension. Do you guys have communicators that you use? Anything from your dimension on you right now?”
They all nod. “Cool, hand me something, two-way, that you don’t mind losing because after I fix it up you won’t be able to contact anyone except for me on it.”
Red hands him a phone, Danny opens it up and messes with the insides before putting it back together. Then he turns it on and calls his Ghost business phone so he would have the number. He hands Red back the phone, picking his own up. “What should I name you guys? Is it always going to be Red on the phone?”
“Probably not.” Red says. “Especially if Hood needs things from you as well. Just put us under Bats.”
“Bats is weird, but whatever you say.” Danny finishes with his phone and smiles up at them. “Thanks for competing! I’ll be in touch.”
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gunnerfc · 1 month
Text
Distracted | Steph Catley x Arsenal!Reader (18+)
Summary: On the rare off day, you attempt to spend it playing video games with some of your teammates but Steph has other plans.
Warnings: fingering (steph receiving) | not sure exactly how to tag that there’s a gaming headset being used so other people could technically overhear 
WC: 2.4k
AN: steph is so 😩🧎🏻😩🧎🏻
You groaned as your eyes fluttered open, the tiring training from the past week plus the game you played yesterday caught up to you. You were thankful today was an off day, any chance to relax around the house was never something you would turn down. Before the game yesterday, you made a deal with Caitlin, Leah, and Katie that the four of you could play a few rounds of FIFA while you were all relaxing.
You sat up in bed, stretching your arms slightly before turning to Steph’s side of the bed. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you were met with an empty bed, your girlfriend hadn’t said anything about going anywhere. You turned to pick up your phone, seeing a text from the defender that she had gone out for coffee with Lia and didn’t want to wake you.
You quickly texted her back before opening the group chat that was made with the three teammates you'd be playing with. You rolled your eyes at the multiple messages of them yelling at you to wake up but responded that you were awake. You immediately got a reply from Katie that read ‘fucking finally’ to which you sent her the middle finger emoji. 
You got out of bed, taking your time doing everything you needed to do in the bathroom just to piss your teammates off further. It was your day off, you were meant to be relaxing and that’s what you were going to do. Just as you made your way to the living room, the front door was opened, and in ran Calvin. The dog jumped up at you in excitement and you couldn’t help but giggle at his actions. You quickly gave him a few pats on the head before he was off to find his water bowl. 
You stood up fully just as Steph came around the corner, a bright smile on her face when she locked eyes with you. “Good morning, baby,” the defender whispered when she was closer to you before you pulled her into a kiss.
Your lips moved against her softly, each time you kissed Steph you put as much love as you could into it. The Aussie pulled back after a moment when air became an issue, her arms locked around your neck as yours rested on her waist. 
“You don’t mind if I borrow the TV for a bit, do you? Me and Caitlin have to beat Leah and Katie’s ass on FIFA,”  you asked, a small smile on your face as you stared at your girlfriend.
“Of course not, though if you're teaming up with Cait, you might be on the losing team,” Steph joked as her hands played with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. 
You groaned at her words, of course, Leah and Katie would stick you with the one person who wasn’t great at the game. You sighed dramatically as you pulled away from Steph to hook up your playstation to the TV. Steph giggled at your dramatics before telling you she was going to take a shower. 
You gave her a thumbs up behind your back as you focused on the cords in front of you. Once you had everything set up and ready to go, you quickly sent a text to your teammates that you were ready. You had your gaming headset resting on your head and once Katie had joined, your ears were met with a round of swearing that you had taken too long.
“Um! It’s our day off, Katie! Excuse me for not wanting to be in a rush all day,” you huffed into the mic, the defender ignoring your words completely. 
You tuned her out as you waited for Leah and Caitlin to join as well. You heard Leah’s voice telling Katie to ‘shut up’ and you were thankful for the blonde. Caitlin joined the call last, quickly saying hello to everyone. 
“Wait, wait. Before we start, Caitlin, how good are you at this game,” you questioned, hoping Steph was just messing with you.
You knew she was right when all you could hear was loud laughter from Leah and Katie before Caitlin said ‘not the best.’ You threw your head back against the couch at her response. You let them pick the teams as you hoped that you’d be able to carry your team to a respectful loss.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Steph had just gotten in the shower. The defender let the hot water wash over her as she washed her hair. Her thoughts started innocently until she thought about how long it had been since the two of you had sex. With your busy schedules, it had been a while, and now with a rare day off, you were downstairs playing a video game. 
Steph could feel herself becoming needier, the pressure between her legs already noticeable. She needed something to distract you from the game you were playing but she knew how you could get when it came to winning things. The defender quickly finished her shower, her neediness growing by the second. Once she was out, she found the perfect set of clothes that would drive you crazy.
As she got dressed, she could hear you yelling in the living room, swearing when Caitlin wouldn’t pass the ball to you when you were open. Steph took a moment to breathe at the sound of your normally sweet tone turned harsh, it was affecting more than she thought it would. She quietly made her way to the living room, though you were too engrossed with your game to realize she was out of the shower. 
You were laid out on the ‘L’ shaped couch, your legs resting on the extended piece of the couch as your eyes were locked on the TV. You didn’t notice Steph right away, not until she was right next to you, seemingly forgetting what personal space was. You spared her a quick glance, throwing her a smile before your eyes were back on the TV in front of you. Steph sat with her thighs pressed tightly, trying to apply pressure to her clothed core.
Steph watched you play as best as she could, her mind hadn't stopped racing with different images of you making her cum and it was becoming hard to focus on anything else. You had yet to realize what she was wearing, too determined to win a video game to focus on your girlfriend. Simply being this close to you wasn’t enough and Steph was going to have to step her game up.
“Baby,” the defender whispered lightly, knowing that if she was much louder, your teammates would be able to hear you over your gaming headset. “Can you take a break,” she added as her hand traced random shapes on your thigh. 
You swallowed lightly as you felt her fingertips on your skin, blinking a few times to keep your focus on the game. “Maybe in a bit, babe,” you nodded but never took your eyes off the game you were playing.
Steph groaned softly, she couldn’t wait for ‘a bit’ because she knew you meant longer than you said. The defender turned her attention back to the animated soccer game on the TV, sighing softly when the game was paused. You scoffed as you heard Leah saying she needed to get her takeout but you took the opportunity to look at Steph.
Your breathing picked up slightly at the sight of your girlfriend wearing your arsenal training shorts and your jersey. She knew that you loved seeing her in things that marked her as yours, especially seeing her with your last name across her back. Your eyes scanned up and down her body, before you locked eyes with her, she was trying her hardest to get you away from your games but your need to beat Leah and Katie was winning.
“We’ll play a couple more games and then I’m all yours. I promise,” you husked, your arousal seeping through your words. You leaned to give Steph a quick kiss when you heard Leah over your headset saying she was back.
Steph tried to deepen the kiss before you pulled away but she was unsuccessful. Her head fell back against the couch when you pulled away, far too needy to wait for you. An idea popped into her head as she stared up at the ceiling and she smirked to herself knowing you would give in to her. When she knew you were solely focused on the game, she slid away from your side slightly to give herself a little bit more room.
You were too focused on your game to notice Steph wasn’t pressed against your side anymore and you certainly didn’t notice when she moved to take the shirt she was wearing off. It wasn’t until the piece of clothing was draped across your thigh and you took a quick look down that your eyes went wide in realization. You blinked rapidly to refocus your thoughts but your need to know won out and you took a quick look in Steph’s direction when you lost possession of the ball.
You bit back a groan when your eyes locked with your girlfriend’s bare torso, realizing she opted to not wear a bra after she got out of the shower. You closed your eyes and shook your head to clear your mind, your attention back on the game after you heard Caitlin yelling at you. It was becoming harder to focus on the game knowing your girlfriend was half-naked just a few inches away. 
You were determined to win this game, the score was only three to two with a few minutes left to play. You hoped that your heavy breathing couldn’t be picked up on your headset, otherwise your teammates would never let you live it down. As you played the game, you felt another piece of clothing hit your legs and you didn’t have to look to know it was the shorts your girlfriend was just wearing.
Steph sat with one leg propped on the coffee table in front of the couch and the other spread wide as the cool air hit her wet center. Steph moaned lightly at the cool feeling, her hands running up and down her body, groping her chest as her head rested against the couch. She knew she was getting to you, but you weren’t caving as fast as she needed you to.
“Give me a second, guys,” you mumbled as you paused the game, ignoring the annoyed shouts from your teammates.
“C’mere, baby,” you growled softly, keeping your voice low so you weren’t overheard on the mic.
Steph jerked her head up as you pointed to the area between your now spread legs. The defender quickly listened, hoping you finally give her what she needed. Steph settled between your legs as you wrapped your arms around her, the controller in your hands was resting on her lower abdomen. You hit resume on your screen as you leaned your head forward slightly to press kisses along Steph’s bare shoulder blade, your eyes still locked with the screen in front of you.
Steph, completely unaware of how gaming controllers reacted to certain plays, jolted slightly when the controller vibrated against her lower stomach, sending shockwaves through her wet cunt. Steph’s head fell back against your shoulder at the sensation, soundless moans falling from her lips. Each time you went in for a tackle or were tackled, the controller would vibrate against her, acting as a stimulation for her quickly approaching orgasm. 
She was no longer paying attention to the TV screen, more focused on what she was feeling between her thighs. She missed when the game ended, but knew something was different when you let go of the controller. You let the item fall against her thigh, your fingers tracing lines up and down any part of her body they could touch. You didn’t bother taking the headset off just yet as you were still in conversation with the other three but that didn’t stop you from dipping your fingers into Steph’s aching core.
One of Steph’s hands shot up to her mouth to cover her lips, silencing the loud moans that were escaping her. You brought the hand that was currently inside her to her wrist, forcing her hand away from her mouth. You kept your conversation going as you thrust three of your fingers in her dripping cunt, the thought of one of them hearing her becoming more of a turn-on as you continued. 
Steph clenched around your fingers but it didn’t stop you from roughly pushing into her, the palm of your hand rubbing against her sensitive clit with each thrust. Steph was close to the edge, the familiar feeling quickly approaching as you didn’t let up. The defender whispered your name followed by a chant of “please” as you sped up your fingers. Her hushed moans and the sound of your hand hitting her skin echoed around the room as you listened to your teammates argue over your headset. 
“I’m gonna cum,” the defender rushed out as her back arched off your front, her hips rolling to meet your fingers.
Steph’s breath stuttered as she came around your fingers, her thighs attempting to close but you kept her legs spread with your other hand. You didn’t slow your movements as you fucked her through her orgasm, her cum coating your hand as you moved inside her. Steph whined lightly when the feeling became too much and you pulled your fingers from her sensitive cunt.
Steph rested against your chest as her breathing was heavy, her eyes fluttering shut as she calmed down. You brought your three fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean as you held back a moan as you tasted your girlfriend.
You tuned back into the conversation over your headset just as Leah asked if you guys wanted to play a few more games. “No, I think Steph and I have some plans,” you responded, earning ‘boos’ from Caitlin and Leah. Katie opted to make a whipping sound before you rolled your eyes and told them goodbye. 
You quickly threw the headset off your head, tossing it somewhere with your gaming controller. Steph was still catching her breath as you ran your hands up and down her body. “You have my full attention now, baby,” you whispered against her skin as you sucked and nipped at her skin. 
The two of you made good use of the day off you had, making up for lost time in the bedroom. You didn’t let up once as you pleasured your girlfriend, pulling orgasm after orgasm from her the entire evening.
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luviemax · 3 months
Note
Hi! Can I request for a Max Verstappen x Reader?
His girlfriend is a Swiftie, eventually Max found himself humming all the songs without realizing it until other driver point it out. Maybe they could ended up going to the Eras Tour? Just major fluff.
Thank you!
end game- oneshot
a/n: OH MY GOD MY FIRST ASK I LOVE yoUUUUU!!!!!!!! also this is so goofy lol i luv it
-> max verstappen x female!swiftiereader, no physical desc of reader
masterlist
word count: 832 words
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Honestly, it's kind of subconscious when it happens.
Obviously, Max isn't a 'Swiftie'. One, that's your thing, in fact, you've coined it to be yours, and two, he doesn't even listen to music.
Yet, every time he's back home for the meantime, and you have the aux, it's always Taylor Swift playing.
"Seriously?" He deadpans, quirking an eyebrow at the radio. "What?" You furrow your eyebrows and ask innocently, despite completely knowing what he means to say. "This again?" You simply give him a knowing look, and he decides not to push the matter any further. To be honest, it isn't even that bad. Most of it is tolerable, anyway.
Frankly speaking, he's quite concerned when he receives a frantic phone call from you. For one, you've never been one to disturb him during race weekends, and although he wouldn't mind you doing so, you just let him concentrate anyway. You only ever call him when it's really important. "Max." You speak into the microphone, sounding slightly distraught. "What's wrong?" His eyebrows furrow in concern. "I didn't get Era's Tour tickets." You complain, a disappointed sigh leaving your lips.
He takes a moment to digest the information you've just told him. "Let me make a few calls." He reassures you, and although you tell him that it's fine, and you wouldn't want to be a hassle, he insists, only because it makes you happy. After a few conversations with multiple Amex clerks, he gets the two of you tent tickets for when he would be off season. Hey, perks of having a black card, right?
As much as he tries to deny it, your listening habits have definitely had some sort of impact on him.
He doesn't even realise it, but he's started humming. And not just anything, he's started humming Taylor Swift.
He'll admit it. He's a big fan of the 'Reputation' album. Specifically, the track 'End Game', mostly because it just reminds him of you.
It's during a Driver's Briefing when Max is humming it to himself, and Charles is the first to point it out.
"Mate, what the hell are you singing?" Charles laughs, and quickly grabs the attention of the drivers' nearby. "What?" Charles' questions rudely interrupts his trance. "What's happening?" Alex asks, slightly intrigued by this entire ordeal. "Max was humming something..." Charles is now akin to Sherlock Holmes, on the case to find out what Max was humming. "Can you reenact it?" Daniel asks, wiggling his eyebrows with a grin on his face. Charles hums it, perfectly in tune. Musician's ear, right? "Hey, that's Taylor Swift!" Daniel point out, slapping Max's shoulder. Max only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, it's End Game!" Alex adds on, with an expression that made it seem like a lightbulb lit up above his head. "What now?" Charles asks, slightly puzzled. "Yeah, End Game is the song! It's a collab she did with Ron Weasley and Future!" Alex exclaimed. "Mate, how the hell do you know this shit?" Charles gives him a slightly judgmental stare. "Hey, my girlfriend listens to it. Besides, shouldn't you be asking Max the same question?" Alex gestures towards the World Champion's direction. Thanks a lot Alex, Max thinks to himself. "Alex and I are on the same boat." Max says, in a tone which indicated that he would no longer elaborate on the matter. Later on, when he's back in his hotel room and recounting the ordeal to you via Facetime, you're practically laughing your head off.
It's the end of a great season, and you and Max are in the tent of the Era's Tour. You were absolutely ecstatic when Max had proudly presented the tickets to you as soon as he got home from Abu Dhabi, saying that it was a gift for you.
Anyway, you'd be dammed if he wore a stupid Red Bull polo to the Era's Tour. You chose his outfit for him, and although he put it on reluctantly, he seemed to be fine now. Or maybe that was because he'd had 5 too many Gin Tonics. Anyway, that doesn't really matter.
Obviously, you're pretty shocked when Taylor decides to sit on that ever elusive piano stool and starts to press a few keys.
You're beyond overjoyed when she begins to play End Game. Your jaw drops, and you turn to Max and excitedly squeal before turning back to focus your attention on the performance.
However, much to your own shock, probably out of pure drunkenness, Max begins to sing along during Taylor's verse.
Honestly, this is pretty out of character for him.
You conclude that it's the Gin Tonics.
Nonetheless, you grin at him, and wrap your arms around his waist, and the two of you sing along together.
The next morning, Max is so hungover that he can't remember anything.
It's fine though, because by the next morning, videos of Max Verstappen, 3 time World Champion, are circulating of him singing with his heart and soul at a concert.
529 notes · View notes
chironshorseass · 3 months
Text
what bugs me most about the pjo show is that i know they could’ve done better. i knowwwww they could’ve been as faithful as they wanted to the books. for anyone saying “oh, but it’s an adaptation! it isn’t meant to be the same so stop whining that they took stuff out or that they’re adding things in different order!” well yes, i agree that adaptations aren’t meant to be a carbon copy of the source material for the simple fact that it���s adapting the source material into a different medium (television), yet it’s just that! a form of adapting the things that are unable to be channeled from, say, a book—or on the contrary, adding things that make sense for television but couldn’t be channeled into the books otherwise…all of this in a faithful manner. a good adaptation is one that stays true to the source material by properly adapting its themes, characters, symbolism, context, pacing, and the overall story/plot so as to not only be seen as a sort of love letter to the fans, but also to reach a wider audience.
just look at the hunger games! the movies are so faithful to the books to the point that most of the scenes are taken straight out of the books, dialogue and all. and they’re movies, aka less runtime than a freaking tv show and they still did it better. did the hg movies have to take a few scenes out? yes; they have only so much time to tell the story as it is told in the books. did they resume things, like the games themselves? also yes. but did most of the important scenes and character moments stay in the movies? also also yes. again, THESE ARE MOVIES!!!!! a medium much more limited than a freaking tv series with multiple episodes that have enough run time to add even more scenes from the books than what could be possible in a 2 hour (max) movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and yet they STILL changed so much that rly had no business being changed other than that the writers decided they felt like it because…..a lot of it im not even sure. and the worst thing of it all is that freaking rick riordan took part in script writing yet so much of the source material has been watered down???? they make a whole ass episode about a monster fight with the majority of the scenes from said episode not even present in the books instead of sticking to the perfectly good source material???? and by doing so they delete the small details that are very much integral to character development and plot???? huh???? the math isn’t mathing. don’t get me wrong, i do like some changes, but then i think: at what cost do they add these things when there was a perfectly good narrative without it? like, at what cost do we get the whole turning to gold sacrifice scene if they’re gonna take out all the fun details that make the lightning thief the lightning thief? for example the silly water park merch and then annabeth displaying her spider phobia and her mortification at going to the thrill ride of love with percy and then being broadcasted to olympus. this is just one episode, but they’ve been doing it in all of them. and u know, it’s not that i don’t hate-hate most these changes. again, what bugs me is that this was supposed to be a faithful adaptation. again, it’s a tv series, with so much more time to develop everything from the books. rick is behind it, who apparently hated the movies for how unfaithful they were. the cast is great. and yet…the script is so mediocre. the spark is lost. character traits are looked over in place for weird pacing and even weirder changes. if the hunger games could do it, then surely a pjo tv series could as well? apparently not? i really really Don’t Get It.
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aurorawritestoescape · 5 months
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Birthday Surprise
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller
Tw: 18+ mdni smut, mfm (their 🍆 don’t touch), power imbalance (boss/employee), ‘sir’ kink, praise kink, tiniest bit of degradation, oral (f/m receiving), cum eating, unprotected piv (wrap it up obv), creampie, rimming, multiple orgasms, butt slapping (light), voyeurism, swearing, no use of y/n
Word count: 3,2k
A/n: thank you @noxturnalpascal 💖 for an amazing idea to write fics based on this PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).
PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW)
I added Tommy to the mix cos what’s better than one Miller boy? Yeah, two Miller boys😝
Other fics based on the prompt: Room 301 @milla-frenchy Dancing is a dangerous game @noxturnalpascal Webcam for beginners @iamasaddie
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You’ve been doing stripping as a side job for a few months now. As a postgrad student you were broke and in debt. You needed money to help out with the tuition, which was unbearably high. On top of that your car broke down and you’ve been trying to save for a new one. One of your friends who’d done it told you that the money was good and the hours were flexible. So you decided to give it a shot.
The gig turned out to be great. You were often tipped generously and though the men were usually drunk and overly excited you’ve been lucky enough to be treated fairly well. They called you Diamond because of your sparkling silver costume and glittering boots.
Today you are shining at a birthday party. It’s a total sausage fest and everyone is excited about the headliner - you. The men are cheering you on as you’re giving your best lap dance to the man of the evening. The music is blaring while you are slowly taking off your sparking top before pushing your breasts together and swaying your hips seductively. You’re still wearing high silver boots and a tiny diamond-encrusted thong.
Everyone is already buzzed. Everyone except the birthday boy. He doesn’t seem to be drunk at all as his dark piercing eyes are sliding across your glitter-covered body with intent and hunger. Sometimes he gives his friends a little smile and laughs at their thirsty comments. But when his gaze returns to you his expression becomes focused and serious, one of a hunter whose unsuspecting prey is inching closer and closer, as he’s waiting for the right moment to strike. There is something hypnotizing about the man and you feel the magnetic pull every time your eyes meet.
You want him to want you. And judging by a big bulge in his jeans you’re doing great. You’re practically drooling over him as your hands are gliding over his broad shoulders, strong chest, running through his dark curly hair. After some time you see only him, and your heart flutters and core burns with desire.
You’re hovering over his lap, his face inches from your bouncing breasts as your hips move the way you’d ride him and your hands are holding onto his muscular shoulders. He wants to say something to you so you lean down bringing your ear to his plush lips. His breath tickles you and you giggle.
“Can I get a private dance?” he asks a little louder so you could hear him through the music. He tilts his head to the side to look into your eyes. He’s gorgeous. Older, just how you like them. A scent of whiskey and something sweet hits your nostrils and you feel yourself getting wet. Your pussy tingles and you both decide to give this guy whatever he wants tonight. You smile at him nodding your head, maybe a little too eager.
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That’s how you end up on your knees in the VIP room, fully naked between his spread legs, his cock deep in your throat. You’ve never done anything like that with a client but you just couldn’t help yourself. You would be fired in a second if anyone found out but you feel that he’s not the one to kiss and tell. His body, his eyes, his confidence drive any rational thought away from your mind.
When you were sitting on his lap having discarded your thong and boots and framing his legs with yours, your pussy was throbbing so much for him it hurt. You rested your head on his shoulder, turned to him and whispered in his ear, “You can touch me if you want”.
He chuckled and asked if he was allowed to but his fingers were already caressing your glistening seam. A few moments later he was fucking you with his thick digits, his tongue licking into your mouth. He knew his way around a pussy and you came hard, making a mess of his jeans.
Now you are sucking on his ball rolling it in your mouth with your tongue and slowly jerking his cock. His jeans are opened and tugged down his hips, your hand is splayed on his lower belly covered with soft hair. He’s watching you with a soft smile, half lidded eyes blown and hazy. You’re enjoying yourself so much you feel you might come untouched just from sucking him off.
That’s when HE barges into the room apologizing for being late. You hear the gravelly voice and your heart drops into your stomach. You freeze glancing up at the birthday boy with horror on your face. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!!!! Fuck! You recognise that voice immediately. You raise your head before glancing back. Of course it’s him! The father of the girl you’ve been babysitting for a few weeks. You always loved kids so babysitting seemed like a great idea. Well, until now when two of your clients met.
Joel Miller was always kind and respectful yet a little grumpy. You never blamed him, a single parent who worked very hard to provide his daughter with the best life. He was a great father judging by how well adjusted and happy Sarah was.
He doesn’t look grumpy now. With his mouth agape, he’s staring at the two of you and mumbles, “Fuck, Tommy.” He raises one brow and runs a hand through his dark hair in a nervous gesture. His black T-shirt rides up showing a slither of his soft stomach and a happy trail. Suddenly you remember all the times he would come home sweaty and hot from working outside all day and you bite your lip.
You’re used to being naked in front of strangers so it takes you a minute to realize you need to cover yourself up.
“Oh my god, Mr Miller. Fuck.. I’m so sorry,” you get up looking around for anything to put on. Of course there’s nothing except your tiny thong and the boots so you just place your hands awkwardly on your mound and breasts and stand between Mr Miller and ‘Tommy’, whose cock is still out and hard. He’s not putting it away, just sits there proudly. Your eyes are darting between the two men.
“You’re interrupting, bro,” Tommy says with a nonchalance in his voice. Now it’s your time to be surprised cos the man looks almost bored.
Joel visibly collects himself and comes up to you.
“I see that,” he says, looking you up and down and then turning to his brother, “Do you know that you’re getting blown by my babysitter?”
Joel looks back to you and brushes your arm with his big warm hand. You shiver at the touch.
“No shit! Babysitter?” Tommy sits up, finally expressing some interest. Joel hums and his brother chuckles and leans back again, holding his still hard cock in his hand, “Got yourself a new one?”
“Yeah… and I seemed to hit the jackpot,” Joel replies with a little smile but his eyes on you are darker, hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. Your skin erupts in goosebumps and you feel yourself like a bunny circled by hungry wolves.
“Mmm.. Mr Miller, I can explain,” you stutter nervously standing there like a school girl being scolded by a headmaster. You want to tell him that you don’t usually walk around sucking your clients off but Joel interrupts you, “No need to explain anything, sweetheart. Work is work. You did nothing wrong.”
His deep smooth voice makes your clit twitch and you almost gasp when he cups your cheek and lowers his face closer to yours, “I know you’re a good girl.”
“And full of surprises,” Tommy adds with a smirk looking at you almost differently, with more intrigue in the gaze and his cock twitches in his hand.
You glance up at Joel and his eyes slide to your lips and yours do the same. Your mouths are so close you’re breathing each other's air. His thumb is rubbing your cheek. Suddenly you jerk when Tommy coughs interrupting whatever is happening between you and your employer. Joel straightens up and his hand leaves your face.
“Ya know what,” he says walking to the chair across the room, placing it a couple meters away from you and taking a seat, “Don’t stop on my account.”
Your jaw drops and you freeze, hardly believing your own ears.
“You heard him, baby. We don’t need to stop,” Tommy repeats his brother's words as your shock is being replaced by excitement.
You hesitate at first but the idea of sucking a guy off when his brother is watching is so filthy that the burning in your core reignites again and you feel yourself gush.
You drop your arms exposing yourself to the men, come up to Tommy again and retake your previous position on your knees between his legs. You take his cock from him and turn your head back to Joel. His legs are spread, big hand resting on his inner thigh as he’s watching you.
You swallow loudly and turn back to Tommy. He must have read the anxiety on your face as he takes your chin between his fingers and gives you a warm smile.
“Don’t be shy, baby. My brother just wanna watch. Let’s give him something to remember when you come babysit for him next time.”
You blush, biting your lip and dropping your head. It can’t be happening. It feels like a weird wet dream. But you see this gorgeous weeping cock in your hand and your mouth salivates. And you would be lying if you said that you didn’t fantasize about Mr Miller bending you over his kitchen counter after your shift and fucking you senseless. So you bend down and kitten-lick Tommy’s fat tip. The man shamelessly moans and your pussy tingles at the sound.
You hear Joel’s groan as he must have a great view of your ass and pussy. The depravity of this situation makes your mind hazy and you arch your back wiggling your ass a little as you’re aching to be touched again. Your hand leaves Tommy’s balls which you were caressing and snakes down to your naked mound. You rub yourself there and then dip your fingers between your wet folds. A pathetic whimper escapes your lips muffled by Tommy’s cock and he twitches against your tongue stimulated by the vibrations.
“I think my naughty babysitter needs some attention, little brother,” Joel rumbles behind you and you hear a creak of the chair and his steps.
Parting from Tommy’s cock with a pop you turn your head and see Joel getting down on one knee next to you. You’re leaning on Tommys thighs, your elbows on his knees.
“You’ve been so good for my brother, sweetheart,” Joel says in a gentle voice, putting his hand on your back. You feel his calloused palm sliding down to your ass and then coming back up to your shoulder blades. “Has he made you come, baby?”
You nod your head staring up at him with slightly parted mouth. You still can’t believe you’re naked in front of the man you’re babysitting for and his brother. With the latter's precum on your lips.
“I’m a gentleman, Joel,” Tommy chimes in sounding offended. He glides his fingers along your neck, “Ladies always come first.”
Joel smirks and leans closer to your face not minding the stiff length of his brother just inches from you both and whispers in your ear, “Ya want another one?”
He presses his lips to your cheek and kisses you before traveling down to your jaw and neck. He grabs a fistful of your hair and holds you in place as he starts sucking a hickey into the delicate skin of your neck. You shut your eyes with a set of moans and tilt your head back for him.
“Don’t damage the goods, Joel”, Tommy jokes and the degrading remark sends you further into the depths of arousal.
“Please, make me come, Mr Miller,” you plead and both brothers seem to love it. Joel’s groaning against your neck while Tommy takes his cock from you and begins jerking his shaft.
Joel parts from you and you feel him gently pushing your head down. You follow his wordless command, lowering your face to his brother's crotch.
Joel guides you and when you open your lips he impales your mouth on Tommy’s cock.
“Yeah, just like that. Suck on it, sweetie, give my brother the best birthday present.”
Joel brushes the hair away from your face and watches you work Tommy’s cock for some time. His eyes are glued to your every move, every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue around Tommy’s tip. The younger brother is holding your head on the other side and rhythmically raising his hips slowly fucking your mouth.
All this time Joel’s touch doesn’t leave you, he caresses your head, rubs your back and sides, until his hand snakes to your front and he grabs your breast and twitches your nipple. Your slick is dripping down your legs now and you can’t take it anymore.
With your lips still wrapped around Tommy’s cock you turn slightly to Joel and glance up at him. He’s panting and his half lidded eyes are clouded with arousal. He reads your expression and not being able to control himself any longer too, he orders, “Get up, sweetheart. But keep sucking.”
You do as you’re told placing your feet on the floor and standing up still keeping Tommy in your mouth. Joel gets up with a groan and walks behind you.
“Mr Miller’s gonna take good care of you, baby,” Tommy promises with a smirk and holds your arm to keep you steady in a new position. “Make sure she moans around my dick, bro,” he says louder and Joel hums in response.
“I know how to take care of a girl, little brother, don’t worry,” Joel quips, standing behind you as his clothed hard-on is pressed to your ass. You feel his fingers squeeze your cheeks and he gives you a light slap. You jerk and Tommy flinches, as your mouth moves on his cock a little too roughly. Joel chuckles and Tommy scolds him him,
“Be gentle, Joel, she’s got a mouth full of my cock.”
Joel laughs a little but his next movements are careful and soft. His big hands glide along your sides and down to your bottom again, rubbing your skin and making you clench around nothing. You wiggle your ass a little in invitation and he reads your signal.
“Look at her, Tommy. Can’t wait to be fucked by my fat cock while sucking on another dick… ahh..she’s gonna get a glowing recommendation from me.”
Both men laugh and you feel your pussy ache even more when they’re talking about you as if you’re not there and you place your feet further apart. “Ya wanna come on my cock, sweetheart, or my mouth?” Joel asks and you hastily part from Tommy and breathe out, “Cock, sir.”
“Fuck, baby,” Joel rumbles and you hear him unbuckling his belt and discarding it on the floor. You expect him to pierce you with his member any second now but you hear shuffling and then his warm lips kiss your pussy from behind. You gasp and Tommy smiles, gently pressing your head back down, “She’s like a little doe, so easy to spook.”
You lick the underside of the younger brother’s cock while Joel is behind you, peppering your pussy with open mouth kisses. Then his tongue slips between your folds and travels from your clit to your entrance. He spreads your pussy with his thumbs and your core burns with desire. You’re completely exposed, and you whine remembering that it’s Joel Miller who is about to make you fall apart while you’re blowing his brother. Joel’s movements are sure and effective and very soon your belly and thighs are trembling with an upcoming orgasm.
Mr Miller surprises you again when his tongue glides up to your asshole and he gives it a kiss after spreading your cheeks. You moan loudly not being afraid to be heard as the music is still blaring behind the closed door.
Tommy and Joel hear you well though and the oldest brother parts from your ass to lightly slap your cheek, getting your attention, “Ya like it, sweetheart? Will you let Mr Miller fuck your asshole with his tongue?”
“Yeah,” your whine, the sound muffled by cock. You roll your eyes in ecstasy and Tommy lifts your head by the hair a little to see the results of his brother’s actions on your face. Meanwhile Joel is licking your tight ring as his fingers rub circles on your throbbing clit. When he points his tongue at your little hole and starts poking it moving it deeper little by little you almost sob from the pleasure and lose your rhythm. You can’t concentrate on sucking any longer so Tommy pulls you off his cock.
“Hold it wide for me, baby” he commands, keeping you face above his red swollen tip and you do as you’re told, darting out your tongue. Your whimpers and moans fill the room accompanied by the squelching sounds of Tommy jerking his cock and Joel’s slurping on your tight hole.
Tommy’s eyebrows are furrowed and his gaze runs over your face, breasts and then your ass, being eaten out by his brother. The view takes him over the edge and he shoots his cum on your chin, lips and tongue. You close your mouth around his tip and drink everything he’s giving you. When Tommy pats your hand, you part from him and rest your head on his thigh, inches from his semi hard cock.
Joel gets up with a grunt and you finally feel his tip nudging at your dripping entrance. He impales you on his cock in one swift move and you scream when his tip hits your cervix. He’s big and your pussy aches trying to accommodate his thick length. You close your eyes and focus on the way his cock is gliding inside you, rubbing your sweet spot. A couple more thrusts and your whole body is shaking, ecstasy coursing through your veins, clit twitching and walls contracting. Your juices flow around Joel’s cock and he groans, “Yeah, good girl.. Fuck, squeeze Mr Miller’s cock.”
He begins thrusting into you vigorously and Tommy keeps you in place holding you tight while his brother starts pumping you full of his hot cum. Joel’s rough hands are gripping your hips leaving handprints on your skin while his cock is squirting seed deep into your pussy.
“Doing so good, baby,” Tommy coos at you, while you're nothing but a trembling shaking mess. He’s watching you both unravel and his cock twitches.
When your climax subsides and Joel stills and pulls out you fall on your knees between Tommys legs.
Both men help you up and Joel puts you like a rag doll on Tommy’s lap. You feel Joel’s cum leak out of you on his brother’s jeans.
You lean on the chest of the birthday boy resting your head on his broad shoulder, completely spent, drunk on endorphins and the depravity of what you’ve just done. Tommy lights up a cigarette as Joel gathers your clothes and boots and comes up to the two of you. He hands them to you and then caresses your cheek with a thumb giving you a warm smile,
“I’ll see you on Monday, sweetheart. Bring your costume.”
You smile back with a nod and he leaves.
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Thank you for reading!
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!💖
Tag list: @missannwinchester @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @nervousmumbling
I’d love to rec the fics that have been feeding my obsession with the Miller brothers combo! Check them out if you haven’t yet!♥️🥵
The Wrong Way @romana-after-dark
Leopard Print @toxicanonymity
Stuffing @toxicanonymity
At the Table @toxicanonymity
Liquid Gold @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Two Hands to Hold @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Too Depraved 4 TV @bonezone44
Smack My B*tch Up @milla-frenchy
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itsharleystuff · 11 months
Text
↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
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Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!
a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)
no use of y/n
𓍊��𓍊𓋼𓍊
"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."
"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.
"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.
"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."
Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.
"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."
When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."
You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.
"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.
"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."
He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”
Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”
He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.
You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.
“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”
Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.
“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”
Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.
“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.
“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”
“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.
It had all happened last weekend.
Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.
At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.
Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.
Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.
You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.
Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.
How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…
“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”
Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”
The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.
“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”
“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.
“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.
You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”
Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.
“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.
“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”
His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.
“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.
“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”
You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.
Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.
Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.
“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”
Well shit. Now you had screwed up.
This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.
Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.
You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.
It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.
“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.
“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.
“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.
So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.
“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.
You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.
You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.
Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.
Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.
“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.
“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”
You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”
“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.
Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.
You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.
“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”
He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”
You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”
If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.
“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.
“No,” you huffed.
“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.
“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”
Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.
“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.
But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.
“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”
Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”
There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.
Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.
“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.
“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”
“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.
In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.
“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”
You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.
“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.
That was the night that started everything.
After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.
Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.
That’s how you ended up here.
Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.
“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.
“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.
“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.
“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.
“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.
The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.
“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”
“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”
And just like that, you’re left alone.
After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.
There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”
He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.
Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.
“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”
He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”
“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.
Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.
“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.
You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.
“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.
The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.
“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.
“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”
This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.
“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”
Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.
“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”
You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.
The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.
“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”
He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”
You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”
“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”
“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”
“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”
The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.
“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.
“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”
“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.
“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.
“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.
He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.
“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.
“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.
“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.
“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.
Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.
“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”
His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.
“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.
“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.
As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.
“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”
You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.
“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”
His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”
The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”
His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”
It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”
Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”
Three fucking times?
When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.
“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.
He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.
“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.
“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.
“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.
“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.
“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.
The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.
His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.
“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”
He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”
You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.
“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.
This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.
“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”
He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.
“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”
But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.
“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.
“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.
It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.
Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.
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