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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

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18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

part five

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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joelsgreys · 2 months

Text

fall into temptation | three

Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.

His youngest daughter.

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.

Still.

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

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celestie0 · 3 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach.

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her.

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?”

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.”

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long.

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore.

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights.

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you.

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give.

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes.

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong.

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.”

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth.

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck.

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field.

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed.

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too.

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!”

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before.

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck.

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.”

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.”

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess.

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that.

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair.

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.”

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.”

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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holybibly · 3 months

Text

Pretty Flushed | MATZ x Reader | Part II

Genre: smut, hybrids!Au

Word Count: 17.8k

Summary: Debts must always be repaid, even if they are not your own, and you will learn this cruel lesson from your own bitter sweet experience.

Or where hot alpha wolves finally knot up their sweet bunny. Please read part one if you have not already. The second part is nothing that pure, depraved and sinful smut. Part I

WARNING: Unprotected sex, Mommy/Alpha! Seonghwa, Daddy/Alpha! Hongjoong, Omega/Bunny! Reader, оral knotting, stomach bulge, vaginal knotting, breeding, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @jeolmeunday @meowmeeps @wayzatiny @stolasisyourparent @iweirdthingsblog @staytinyville @yoonivjpg @spooo00oky @kibs-and-bits @yunnieo @avantalem @dreamingofyeo @uuviey @mxnsxngie @bahngchatsfx @yeosang-dot-mp3 @zzz-zzs @yeos-bunny @seonghwasstar @fvlvy @bunnyluvr25 @watermelon2319 @weedforthoughtz @teez-the-time @bakarilennox @atinyreads @bluesungshine @kihyuns-military-wife @seventhcallisto @maximofftrash @0325tiny @edusweah @haven-cove @nhari @sanhwalvr @hecateslittlewitchling @icecold2baby @readerofallthingss @appleschre @wannabebarbiesworld @kpopmonstur @ohflorah @yoongiigolden @unxverxse @kuromiiy @cherryynoir @mitchikeli @atinism @minaizum1 @st4rhwa @kayleigh-28 @onedumbho3 @imthetempter @soobiverse

Second part of tag list, at the end of chapter

A/N: So, are the bunnies ready to go down to hell and come back up again? This is the most detailed, twisted, and incredibly sexy thing I've ever written. You were warned. I really hope I've lived up to all your expectations and hopes. Honestly, I rewrote this 12 times until I was so happy my toes were curling up. So buckle up, bunnies, because some hot alphas are here to blow your mind. Look out for a series set in the same universe to come."Venus in Furs" is already getting developed.

My adorable bunnies, I love you. Reblogs and comments are welcome.

divider by @cafekitsune

As soon as Seonghwa seems satisfied enough, he finally pulls his beautiful, sinful mouth away from your pussy, which is now red and swollen from all the aggressive caresses. You sob pitifully at losing contact, even though Hongjoong continues to lick you, and judging by the way his fingers dig into the soft skin of your thighs, restricting all your movements, he doesn't intend to stop.

It's too hard to be aware of your surroundings; your confused mind is still swimming in a haze of intoxicating, sickly-sweet pheromones and the deep, dizzying orgasm you've just experienced, but even so, a tugging, hot feeling of arousal is beginning to form inside you again, like boiling lava. Like tingling flashes of fire beneath the thin surface of your skin, the sensation is overwhelming. The only thing you can focus on is the gorgeous Alpha with the most perfect set of lips you've ever seen in your life.

Your eyes are wide open as you watch Seonghwa languidly lick the remnants of your sugary mucus from her sensual, plump lips. It's almost hypnotic—the long silken appendage gliding over the seductively moist flesh in the most vicious way—and you unconsciously repeat it, licking your own lips, bitten and parched from endless moans.

"You taste so divine, my little pet; I don't think I could ever get enough of you." Songhwa purrs sultrily as he looks down at your vulnerable, tender body with his dark, half-closed eyes. He has a siren's gaze—seductive and sexy—a gaze that promises the darkest of pleasures, the kind that says, "I'll tear you apart, and you'll beg for it." And it quickened your pulse to the point where your head began to spin and your hips unconsciously lifted upwards in search of attention, which only made you press your pussy harder into Hongjoong's face, and he purred velvety in response to your actions. The vibrations caused by his deep voice go right to the core of your being.

"P-please alpha..." The moan you make is so loud and so long, a little painful, followed by another one, even longer and even more needy. You don't know what you're asking for or which one of them; your tiny brain is incapable of forming any coherent thought.

"Oh, sweet bunny, you want to have a taste too, don't you? Let your mommy give you a taste of it." With two fingers, Seonghwa picks up the leaking slime from your pussy, to which Hongjoong gives an irritated growl as the action of the black-haired Alpha causes him to take his mouth off of you for a few seconds.

You are so juicy and fertile, like a gourmet treat that has been made just for him, and he is so damn drunk on it. All in all, the Alpha doesn't mind spending the rest of the night, possibly the rest of his life, burying his handsome face in your luscious wet folds. His fluffy, snow-white tail swings from side to side, and the tips of his pointed ears twitch at the tempting prospect.

When Seonghwa pulls back his hand, long strands of viscous slime stretch out from behind his fingers, and he moans fervently as he rolls his eyes. Alpha brings his wet, smooth fingers to your mouth, pressing them firmly against your trembling lower lip.

"Open your mouth, my princess. Give yourself a taste. Feel how sweet that pretty cunt tastes."

You open your mouth obediently and allow his fingers to slide in and press against the tip of your tongue. He runs them back and forth, rubbing them against your soft, pink tongue, letting you taste the slime of your own body on your taste buds. It's strange and terribly disconcerting, and you've never even thought of doing something like this before, not even when you were in heat.

Seonghwa pushes his fingers in so deep that the pointed tips of his nails scrape the back of your throat for a second, and you choke and unconsciously let the long fingers slide even deeper down your throat. The heavy silver of his rings scratches your palate and burns your tongue, but Seonghwa doesn't care, his eyes are fixed on you, and for a moment you think fire burns inside, ready to eat your body to the bone. There is a devilish glint in the blood-red frame of his bottomless irises.

"You're so perfect, my beautiful little bitch." He growled as you gasped intermittently for air around his fingers. The constant pressure on your throat was a threat to your gag reflex with every movement. Your eyes watered, and you clutched your hand desperately into the luxurious fur of his coat as if that would do any good. "I'll take you into my bed, and I'll fuck you deep, hard, and long—for as long as it takes. My little princess, you are going to sit on top of my dick like the throne you deserve. Mommy is going to make sure that you are always full of cum and that your pretty little sugar brain can only think of me and my knot." It was impossible to look away from him, from the sadistic pleasure in those hypnotic onyx eyes as he used you like that, with a cruel and bright smile full of sharp teeth.

Your little heel kicked the air as one of Hongjoong's clawed hands began to roughly knead your breasts. Swollen, milk-filled, and so sensitive. Your back arched as Seonghwa's fingers slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back in an intermittent moan of pain. Rich streams of sweet smelling milk begin to flow down the length of your body. With his thumb pad, the Alpha runs his thumb over the moist candy pink flesh of your nipple before Hongjoong wraps two fingers around it.

With that, a new wave of heavier, sweeter pheromones fills the room, and you begin to dissolve into the thick, seductive haze, sinking deeper into the natural pleasure space inherent in all bunnies. All rational and 'correct' thinking has long since ceased to exist as you begin to think.

"D-Daddy...Alpha!" You squeal shrilly, your long ears fluttering and your plump cotton tail flicking up. Your saliva drips from Seonghwa's long fingers on you. "Please...gently..."

"In your dreams, my angel." Hongjoong's smile is more like a predatory animal grin as he takes his beautiful wet mouth away from your pussy for a moment.

Seonghwa wraps his wet fingers around your chin, the sharp tips of his claws digging painfully into the softness of your cheeks, almost drawing blood from them. You freeze completely, unable to move a single muscle except for your heart, which beats uncontrollably fast. Your natural bunny fear immediately reacts to the powerful dominant aura that surrounds Seonghwa, despite the lust and heat of the painful pleasure the Alphas give you. Like a dark omen of the end, an overwhelming and deadly threat that has sent all your instincts into panic, his invisible wolf energy trembles in the air.

A bunny can never feel safe and secure in the company of wolves, and that's why you're such a beautiful and seductive toy to them—you constantly fuel their kinky sexual side.

"My sweet bunny, are you able to ask for something?" He slowly licks his fanged top row of teeth and tilts his godlike face so close to you that you feel his breath in the small space between you. With every word he utters, his perfectly sculpted, luscious lips make contact with yours. "You're just our pretty fucktoy, aren't you?" The Alpha purrs against your lips, his voice covered in velvety darkness, utterly sinful, filled with a mocking condescension that makes you sob in turmoil.

Seonghwa says such dirty and embarrassing things, degrading and objectifying you, but somehow your body responds with a wave of unwanted lust; a hot flash of shameful arousal erupts deep inside you, your pussy clenching involuntarily. You can taste his breath; it's a mixture of sex and whisky, and all you can think of now is how badly you want to lick his delicious mouth.

"Oh, princess, are you upset? Despite how much your tiny cunt is leaking for us, are you still playing the tender virgin? All wet and glistening, ready to be bred and ready to be licked. You want nothing more than to be stuffed full of cock and fucked full of our cum; just admit it, bunny, and mommy will give you everything you so desperately want." A horrible moan rises in your chest at the sound of his words. An echo of pure shame and sexual pleasure in equal measure, the sound is treacherously loud and humiliating.

"Look at you, bunny, you like it so much when mommy talks dirty to you, don't you, little slut? You're dripping into my mouth, honey." Hongjoong's voice is a solid, silky growl; it vibrates against your skin and sends shivers up and down your entire body. His vicious mouth begins to leave rough, painful hickeys on the inside of your thighs as well. His teeth are sharper than they used to be, his breathing is intermittent and hot, like a fever, and his pheromone-filled saliva is dripping copiously onto your skin. It's filthy and disgusting, but maybe deep down inside you're desperate for him to stain you even more, to make you all sticky with his cum.

"Oh God...d-don't say things like that...please, it's so bad." Hot tears begin to flow from your wide-open eyes—thick and humiliating, just like the viscous streams of mucus flowing from your shrinking hole. Hongjoong is absolutely right, you really do enjoy all this, but he also knows very well that there's nothing you can do about it; it's so natural to your species—the constant, uncontrollable desire for sex.

"Don't tell me what to do, fluffy." His voice drops a couple of octaves to something more akin to the growl of a dangerous animal. You let out a gasp as you felt the sharp fangs of the Alpha press palpably against your thin skin. It doesn't sound like he's trying to intimidate you; this feels real. More tears begin to trickle down your cheeks, and Seonghwa's long tongue reaches out to lick away the salty liquid that is running down your face in streams of crystal-clear water.

The Alpha lets out a guttural moan that sounds as if you have just licked his cock, a pornographic expression of bliss etched on his god-like face.

And yet, despite the natural horror tormenting you at the edges of your consciousness, driving the instinct of self-preservation into a frenzy, you cannot shake the strange, intoxicating feeling of their all-encompassing power over you.

"I am going to rip your tight little cunt in half, and you are going to beg me to do it again and again and again. You are going to be so full that you will be able to see how my cock is bulging against your belly with every move I make. I know that a slut like you is going to milk every last drop of my cum out until your pussy can no longer hold it in and it will flow freely out of you." The tip of his sharp tongue brushes against the wet, tight hole between your plump buttocks, and you squeal, jerking violently in your vulnerable position. "Why don't we knot that pretty hole up too? What do you think, bunny?"

"I-I... no, you can't; it's dirty. You can't, you can't go there... I'll never..." You blushed furiously and whimpered, your long ears flapping on your face, in an attempt to cover yourself. But Seonghwa growled low and squeezed your cheeks tighter with sharp claws, leaving angry crescents on round, plump cheeks.

"It was a polite question, angel. Daddy doesn't need your permission to fuck your ass." Hongjoong cooed with a sweetness that was deceptively like honey.

A high-pitched squeal escapes your throat as Seonghwa's fingers begin to trace slow circles over your swollen, sensitive clit. Stimulating your already obvious arousal. These actions cause your heel to kick stupidly in the air and your long ears to go limp and soft as they press against the back of your head. The uncomfortable position made the muscles in your thighs start to ache noticeably, but you were too scared to complain about it. Every nerve in your body is vibrating and tingling as the persistent fingers repeat the same movements over and over again.

The stimulation is almost painful, but it is too divine to resist.

"And then we're going to let the puppies play with your beautiful, fuckable body. I want to see how they make you scream. I bet you would love it if the puppies were to use you as a group whore for them. Mmm, just imagine them taking turns stuffing your greedy sweet hole as if they had the right to, but you know you belong to me, and if they dare to lay claim to you, I will rip their throats out." Seonghwa's voice rang in your ears like warm, melted honey, but behind the sweetness was a barely perceptible edge, a deep animal rumble. "Mommy is going to put a magnificent collar on you, all covered with jewels and diamonds, and you are going to sit obediently and beautifully at my feet, or even better, on my cock, like on a real royal throne, which every spoiled princess should have. Absolutely everyone in this house will know that you belong to me and to me alone," he said. Seonghwa moans as she imagines this image: the fingertips penetrating you, stimulating the trembling, swollen edge, but not going any deeper, no matter how much you want them to. More slime pours out of your entrance and splashes around the fingers of the Alpha with a loud, slurping sound.

The humiliation has been so acute, too painful, and too raw, but you moan selflessly, rolling your eyes as you clearly feel a new wave of slime pouring out of your used cunt. It is becoming increasingly difficult for you to resist your natural, deep-seated mating instinct. It is calling you to engage in brutal animal mating right here and now. Maybe Seonghwa really is right about you, and you are nothing more than his little doll that he can use in the right way and fuck whenever he wants to.

"You know, my darling, that the juicy, fertile smell of your pussy has made their heads spin. I can hear them whimpering and moaning all the way from here. I'm sure they want nothing more than to lap up your slime like bitches in heat and rub their pretty little faces all over your deliciously plump pussy." The prospect was unbearable for your twisted little brain. The sound that follows is disgustingly loud, almost unholy, as Seonghwa finally slides his fingers into your pussy. You're dripping like a waterfall, dripping onto the floor and causing a small, shiny puddle to form on the floor. Some of the mucus is absorbed by the Alphas' luxurious furs, but they have no problem with this at all.

"Can you blame them, Hwa? She's a real treat for the wolves." You sob loudly as Hongjoong's evil and insatiable mouth finds a particularly sweet spot on the inside of your thigh and clings to it with all its might, sucking loudly and biting the tender skin with a palpable sensation. His hands slide up your thighs, the palms of his hands lingering on the shape of your swollen pink cunt for a few seconds, massaging it with his thumbs before moving higher up. Hot and hungry kisses travel up the length of your belly and up to your wet, milky breasts until his tongue wraps around your swollen nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. The cocky alpha's lips curl into a sly grin at your exhausted and dazed expression. The grin is both seductive and threatening. The more Hongjoong sucks and caresses, the more milk comes out. Not only is it indecently pleasurable, but it is also super erotic. His hot breath is fanning out over your sensitive areolas as he takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, his rough fingers caressing your curves, occasionally dragging his claws along the seductive path of the swollen scarlet scratches he left on you earlier.

"I think you're ready enough to take my knot, don't you, pet? My beloved girl, are you ready to ride on your mommy's knot?" Seonghwa's gaze is so animalistic, dark, and almost diabolical, the bloody rim of his onyx irises, glimmering faintly like the dark promise of the worst sin.

At the mention of the word 'knot', you whimper loudly and throw your head back submissively, exposing the pale column of your neck, finally distracting the second Alpha. Hongjoong crawls up your body until his face is next to Seonghwa's godlike face, leaving traces of wine-like, possessive marks.

"We are so terribly hungry for you, my little bunny." A hot blush spreads across your cheeks as you feel your juices mixed with milk run down his chin and drip onto your heaving chest, but the Alpha doesn't seem to care as he leans in and licks your mouth, leaving his pheromone-filled saliva on your lips. "We are going to breed you so well, my darling. You are going to be so full and plump. Daddy is going to take care of that, I promise you. This little pussy of yours will always be filled with our sperm. Isn't that what you want, fluffy?"

"Tell me one thing, bunny, do you want to be bred by the big and bad wolves?" Seonghwa is almost choking on his words; his bottomless, dark eyes are heavy and clouded with animal need. The tip of his fluffy tail tickles your thigh, sending a wave of heat through your body. Hongjoong's sharp nails lightly scratch your aching, swollen nipples, and his long, rough tongue lazily slides over your scent gland, leaving a trail of cold, wet saliva.

"Say it..." The Alpha whispers, but you can hear the dominant tone in it.

You know you have no choice but to obediently obey as ordered.

"Please, mommy, I want this so much, I want your knot. Please breed me..." You squeal loudly, kicking the air with your heel as you feel Hongjoong's gorgeous lips press harder into your swollen scent gland, and Seonghwa's fingers penetrate so deep into your pussy that the tender pads of his fingers touch the small bundle of hypersensitive nerves, completely shutting down your consciousness. Like a swamp—thick, viscous, and deadly—the gnawing pleasure fills your entire body. The whole of your bunny nature is sinking into a black hole of utter depravity and visceral, submissive behaviour. The only thing you need right now is for one of these gorgeous Alphas to shove his massive cock down your leaky, throbbing, needy hole.

Your lusty, insatiable rabbit nature wants only one thing: for someone powerful, domineering, and dominant to take you over—rough, animalistic, fucking your mind into a complete stupor—and claim you as their new shiny toy. Perhaps, deep down in your virgin soul, this is what you secretly long for - to be nothing more than a mindless, beautiful toy in the hands of a magnificent Alpha or two, or perhaps their entire clan.

As Hongjoong licked the remaining tears from your cheeks, you whimpered and twitched weakly.

"Oh, Fluffy, you are such a bad girl; shouldn't you be asking for daddy's knot as well?" He is not asking you; he is telling you, and you are obliged to obey.

"P-please, I want your knot so badly, daddy. Fill me up with it." You are barely above a whisper, your voice quavering with painful excitement.

"How can we refuse you since you ask so politely?"

They both pull away from you, only to lift your weak legs off the armrests, the viscous puddle of your goo squelching uncomfortably as your hips sink into the leather seat of the luxurious chair. It is so embarrassing.

Hongjoong's impatient hands rip off your remaining clothes and throw them somewhere on the floor, leaving you completely naked, covered in hickeys, scratches, and bites.

God, is this how good, obedient bunnies should look?

Seonghwa picks you up and presses you against his hard body as he carries you off to what you can only assume is his bedroom.

The luxurious fur of his fur coat wraps itself around you like the softest of blankets, caressing your hot, bare skin. The scent of his pheromones is so thick and seductive that you are completely lost in it, and you unconsciously bury your nose in his collarbone, your teeth clinging to the smooth, golden skin. Your head is heavy with lust, clouding your thoughts and your vision, and you are unaware of anything around you except for the Alpha, whose clawed fingers are digging into your flesh.

It was only when you felt yourself being laid down on the soft velvet blanket of Seonghwa's king-size bed that feelings and awareness slowly began to return, and you blinked absentmindedly as you tried to focus on your new surroundings. It takes a couple of minutes for your tiny brain to process what has just happened and to analyse the situation. It is clear that you are in the personal bedroom of the main Alpha. Everything in here smells like Seonghwa—bitter almonds and black cherries mixed with the sickening sweetness of Alpha pheromones. This thick mixture wraps around you, embedding itself into your skin and settling into your lungs with every breath you take. There are notes of other flavours in the ghostly taste that linger on your tongue—too many to distinguish, but the heat of pink pepper is so obvious and searing. Your slutty nature helpfully reminds you that Hongjoong tastes exactly the same—burning.

The room's walls are black, and exactly the same black velvet curtains pile up on the floor, cascading in heavy waterfalls over black-and-gold marble tiles. The few windows were made of stained glass, depicting scenes of debauchery and pleasure, so detailed that just looking at them would send a wave of heat through your entire body and make your pussy clench.

Mirrors with gold frames covered most of the walls and reflected the luxurious bed from different angles. The remaining furniture was all carved from ebony, and the light from the candles and the burning fireplace that filled the room reflected off the many mirrors, filling the room with a warm, luxurious glow. It was the kind of lighting that had always made naked bodies look so incredible. It was hard for you to understand how he could sleep peacefully here every night; it was all so wicked and sinful. Even in your dirtiest, most depraved dreams, which you imagined during your heat, you couldn't have imagined a room so dark and filled with sex.

Slowly, like real predators on the hunt, the wolves begin to approach you, crawling onto the bed with elegant animal movements. You are the sweet one they want to catch. The room is stuffy and the air is heavy and thick, and it's not just the overwhelming mix of aromas, sex, and pheromones; it's something more instinctive, primal, and animal that defines the dynamic between the three of you, not only as between species but also as between potential mating partners.

Their great bodies, still clothed in luxurious and expensive furs, hang over your trembling body, naked for their pleasure, looking at you with eyes darkened by lust and desire. Like the grin of the devil, bloody sparks flash from the depths of the black irises.

A slow, sinful grin slides across Seonghwa's sensual, plump lips while Hongjoong's beautiful, wet mouth stretches into a predatory wolf smile. Sharp fangs peek out from his parted lips as he licks them with his tongue. Before Seonghwa's clawed hand wraps around your ankle in one fluid motion and pulls you towards him, your body is dragged along the luxurious blanket, and you instinctively try to escape, kicking and squealing as the Alphas just chuckle darkly.

"In a hurry, bunny?" Hongjoong laughs mockingly as you give a weak squeal and start to cry again.

"Don't you dare to run away from me again, you little whore." Seonghwa growls in a threatening voice and digs his claws deeper into your flesh. You whimper, throwing your neck back and biting your trembling lower lip to submit. "Be obedient, darling, and maybe we can be a little bit nicer to you, or do I have to bite you so that you start to behave the way you should?"

"Yes, I understand you, mommy; I will obey, the best bunny for you." You whimper, your voice trembling with fear and with painful, humiliating excitement. Seonghwa just grunts in response, and with a sharp movement, she spreads her legs wide, exposing your leaking cunt to her gaze in its entirety. Their eyes are focused on the wet, shiny folds of your pussy, and you react to this in the most attractive way for them—your little hole is clenching on nothing, and a new stream of fragrant, thick mucus is spurting out. At the sight of this, Hongjoong lets out a laugh so evil that it makes your skin hum with sharp electricity.

"Somebody's getting a little too excited, aren't you, furry?" The mockery is literally dripping from the tip of his tongue.

"I... I'm sorry..." You don't even know what you're apologising for, but Hongjoong's words make you feel an extreme, painful sense of shame that hits you like a slap in the face.

Seonghwa doesn't say anything, but instead decides to nuzzle his nose against your cunt. As he takes a deep breath, nuzzling your body and purring with pleasure, you feel your cheeks blush with humiliation.

"Bunny, bunny, bunny..." He begins to say this as he runs his nose over your swollen clit. As humiliating as it is, you can't help but let out a shrill moan that escapes from your chest. "You have been such a naughty little girl. You were pretending to be such an innocent little bunny, but look at you now; you're just pouring all over my sheets like a real whore." His voice has dropped a couple of octaves, and there is an animal edge to it that you can feel. If you didn't know that this is natural for wolves, you'd be forgiven for thinking he's about to start rutting.

His throat rumbling velvety with pleasure, Hongjoong presses his cheek to your belly and rubs his face against the soft skin. He plants hot kisses along the plane of your belly, his teeth scratching at you and his long tongue licking at you. Sparks of desire run across your skin; the wet walls of your vagina ache almost palpably with the need to squeeze and hold the Alpha's knot. As you tremble all over at their attention, a small sob escapes from your doll's mouth against your will. As Seonghwa's claws dig deeper into you, you belatedly realise that he's waiting for your answer to his question.

"I didn't want it; it's... I can't do anything about it."

Seonghwa presses his tongue against the folds of your pussy and then licks a wide line from your heated, dripping hole all the way to your throbbing clit. In an instant, your back arched up from the bed, and you let out a high pitched moan. The constant feeling of stimulation is becoming compulsively pleasurable, perhaps even a little painful, but you like it in a strange way. Your mind may be completely out of control, in complete obedience to instinct. The Alpha repeats the action, this time pressing his tongue against your hole and pushing the tip of it inside you.

"Alpha." You're practically choking.

"Don't need to apologise, bunny. We will be more than happy to do some re-education for you. We're going to make you into a real obedient girl, my angel. Mommy and daddy will teach their little bunny how to behave very well." Hongjoong's kisses travel higher and higher up your body, between your breasts, until they come to rest on your neck. His breath flows over your skin, and you feel as if it is burning it, just like the rich aroma of the Alpha's pink pepper. Your thighs spread a little further, and Seonghwa purrs appreciatively. Hongjoong's sharp fangs brush the pulsating vein in your neck.

Hongjoong chuckles again, the dark, animal sound echoing through your sensitive eardrums and penetrating to the very core of your being.

"Do you want me to kiss you, my angel, while Hwa is eating your tight little cunt? You want that. Don't you?" Hongjoong purrs, causing you to nod your head in a desperate attempt to confirm your yes. His snow-white tail swings lazily from one side to the other." Then say, "Give your little whore bunny a kiss, daddy."

"Please, daddy, kiss your little w-whore bunny." There's a slight stutter at the offensive word, but you do as you're told anyway. Because at that moment, you were no longer able to fight against your bunny nature and the forbidden, dark desire to be divorced and to be marked by these devilishly beautiful alphas.

As soon as these words have left your lips, Hongjoong immediately takes hold of your mouth with a hot, animalistic kiss. He roughly pushes his long, rough tongue between your lips, which immediately penetrates the inside of your mouth and fills the entire space. The kiss was like heaven and hell at the same time. His teeth sink into your innocent lower lip, leaving it broken and throbbing, and the Alpha ravages your soft lips with an intensity bordering on sadistic pleasure. You let out a loud moan into his mouth, and Hongjoong swallowed the sound and pressed himself so close to you that you found yourself trapped between his body and the luxurious furs that lined the bed.

Your mind, warped by lust and hormones, wants him to press his full weight against you, to hold you in place as he drives his massive cock into you. Your body surrenders to him without hesitating, dissolving beneath him, ready to serve and obey whatever he commands. He is such a perfect partner to fuck with. An excellent alpha for breeding.

At the same time, you can feel Seonghwa's hot breath blowing over your wet folds, and you give a weak twitch at the sensation. The arms of the Alpha are wrapped around your hips, and he digs his claws into the soft flesh of your body. The sharp, searing pain from the sharpened claws tore a wet cry from your throat, which you let out into Hongjoong's lips, cut off by an equally sharp gasp as you felt a claw run along your thigh, cutting the skin. Like tiny bubbles in a pot of boiling water, the blood bubbled to the surface of the cut.

Hongjoong is still kissing you with the same devotion. His mouth is hot and demanding, and his tongue is exploring the depths of your mouth as if he were in search of hidden treasure. The taste of his mouth is a mixture of sin and temptation, bitter chocolate and pink pepper. The sensation on the tip of your tongue will drive all thoughts of fear from your mind and leave you floating in bliss. The cloying sweetness of the pheromones runs down your throat along with his saliva, and you swallow the liquid, causing him to growl in an animal-like manner. The velvety sound vibrates against your skin. Your pussy clenches desperately against nothing and spurts liquid into Hwa's mouth.

Your little heel kicks the sheets as one of Hongjoong's clawed hands begins roughly kneading your breasts—swollen, heavy, full, and so sensitive. Your back arched as you let out a broken, painful moan and threw your head back. Vast streams of sweet-smelling milk begin to flow down the length of your body. The Alpha runs his thumb over the wet, candy pink flesh before he wraps two fingers around it and pulls on it. As the kiss grows deeper and harder and Hongjoong's tongue literally starts fucking your throat in a slow but rough rhythm, his hand falls from your chest and traces a painful scratch path along your writhing, heated body until the tips brush your throbbing, needy clit.

You let out a moan into his mouth, your hips shaking slightly at the delicious touch. You can't even think at the moment; the pulsating need is taking over and completely suppressing the rational part of your brain. This is just a distraction that takes your attention away from the real action at hand.

You feel Seonghwa's silken tongue brushing against you before he starts to lick you hungrily. Bending your spine, you arch your back towards his lips, and with each movement and each kiss, small sobs of pleasure escape from your lips. With each passing moment, their actions are slowly driving you mad—your skin is turning red and tingling with the searing heat of the lust that is bubbling under your skin like boiling honey. The blood seems to move more slowly—thick as sweet molasses—through the vein. Soon your pussy begins to ache with pain: the clitoris throbs, demanding attention; the vagina contracts rhythmically; and the excitement flows into the crevice between your plump buttocks. Suddenly, you feel Seonghwa lift your legs before hooking them on either side of his shoulders, your skin touching the luxurious fur of his coat and his long hair tickling the inside of your thighs as his godlike face is pressed between your legs. Long, slender fingers massage the sides of your plump pussy, dipping lightly between your folds before spreading them wide, exposing your tender cunt flesh to his predatory gaze. Your entire body trembles with anticipation, and as you feel the Alpha's scorching breath enveloping the molten heat of your pussy, your inner walls tighten in response.

"God, you are such a desperate bitch for me, little bunny, aren't you?" Seonghwa moans as his dark, bottomless eyes roam over every inch of your folds. Holding your cunt in one hand, he runs the index finger of his other hand delicately along the petals of your folds before tracing the outline of your trembling entrance with the tip of his finger. "Fuck, I can feel that pretty little pussy of yours twitching. Needy little slut, is that all you want to do is take an Alpha cock up into your cunt, darling? Are you so desperate for your mommy to come and break you up? He goes on with a mocking purr in his voice.

You whimper in response to his words, your long ears trembling and tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, glistening on your doll-like eyelashes. Hongjoong continues to ravage your mouth with his tongue; his beautiful mouth prevents you from making a sound. He kisses you so deeply that you almost choke on it as you feel the hot appendage twist sinfully around your own tongue.

Seonghwa pushes a long finger into you with a sharp, quick motion. The silver of his rings drags along your soft walls before he pulls out immediately. As his finger leaves your cunt, your body clenches, and you whimper, needing to scream. Seonghwa's throat goes dry, and he sticks his tongue out like a thirsty dog, thick saliva dripping onto your folds as he sees the thick sheen of your arousal covering the length of his finger. The Alpha runs his fingers through your folds, collecting as much of your mucus as he can, watching as thin, thick threads of moisture stretch out behind his fingers.

"You are so ready for us, bunny, we are going to breed you. Mommy is going to show you how to fuck like a real Alpha." Hwa hisses as she reaches up with her hand and gets Hongjoong's attention. "It's getting sweeter and sweeter, Joong."

Finally giving you the opportunity to take a deep breath, Hongjoong immediately pulls his lavish mouth away from you. A hazy look falls on Seonghwa's slender fingers; he licks his kiss-swollen lips, and you watch as Hongjoong leans in. As he swallowed your intoxicating essence, his long tongue slipped out of his mouth and wrapped around Seonghwa's finger. Wrapping the finger in his mouth, he takes its entire length before sucking lightly with a low, husky hum, his eyelashes fluttering and his bushy tail whipping in the air. Your throat goes dry at the erotic sight of the Alpha's plump lips around Seonghwa's fingers, and your clit throbs even more. When they are clear, he releases the appendages with a bang and a heavy rumble comes from Hongjoong's chest as his eyes flash red.

"Fuck, is it possible to be even more delicious, angel? The more you cum, the more intoxicating the taste will be." He lets out a groan. Out of the blue, Hongjoong slides his hands between your thighs, and a scream of ecstasy escapes from your throat as you feel two of his fingers slide through your pussy. Suddenly, they plunge into your cunt, and you scream out in pain and pleasure as he forces your body to stretch around his fingers, your soft walls aching as they are suddenly torn apart. He pushes his fingers in all the way to the base of your cunt, twisting the appendages before pulling them out roughly.

Thick strands of arousal cling to his fingers, the appendages coated in a thick layer of your wetness, and you watch as Hongjoong brings his dirty fingers to your nipples; only to let your honeyed essence run over them. Hongjoong moistens the hardened tips and coats them with a glaze until they are smooth and shiny with your goo, which mixes with the dripping drops of milk. One of the nipples slips between his fingers, and Hongjoong pinches it between his knuckles before he pulls hard on it. The sharp sting of it makes you let out a dry sob—the pain mixing with the pleasure and ripping through your body like a flash of lightning.

A sadistic, mocking grin plays across his lips, pointed fangs protrude from beneath his plush lips, and in one swift motion, the Alpha pinches your swollen nipple before pulling roughly on your nipple. As soon as he was sufficiently covered in your own wetness, Hongjoong turned his attention to your other breast; he gave it his cruel attention. Your breathing has become more laboured; low moans and strained, painful sobs escape from your lips.

The way your body reacts to rough caresses, heating up and blooming, becoming ripe and juicy for two insatiable alphas—it's not normal; it's completely abnormal. It's not even your heat, and you're scared to think about what you'll feel when it comes. Even now, every nerve in your body is burning with the most intense pleasure you've ever known.

Yes, sex with wolves is like a flirtation with death, and you belatedly realise that you don't mind dying in their clawed hands.

While Hongjoong's deft fingers are flicking over your nipples, Seonghwa is giving his undivided attention to your pussy. The Alpha's long fingers dance across your cunt, with two fingers running along one of your folds in a gentle massaging motion before he spreads his fingers in a V-shape. Seonghwa gently blows cool air on your swollen clit, exposing your pussy to his gaze. Your hands clench into fists at the sensation, clenching the fur blankets together, your fingers twisting the silken strands between them, and your knuckles turning white at how hard you squeeze. Your whole body is shaking, like a fever, and it seems as if you can't breathe at all—the alpha pheromones are clinging to your throat with every breath you take.

The air in the room is like a thick swamp of vice and sex, impossible to get through; it absorbs you, drowning you in its depths.

Seonghwa's lush, sensual lips wrap around your clit as Hongjoong's mouth wraps around your right nipple, and with an almost synchronised ease, they both suck at the same time. A strangled moan escapes from your throat, and you feel your eyes roll back into the back of your head from the blinding pleasure that is shooting through your nerves. There are stars flashing behind your eyelids. Your body is writhing in bliss as you writhe under their ministrations, Seonghwa's long tongue flicking teasingly along the outline of your clit as Hongjoong licks and sucks the wetness from your nipple.

"Oh God, Alpha, this is too much... I can't... I can't..." You are sobbing. But behind the tears, ecstatic notes pierce the edge of your being. Hongjoong bites down hard on one of your nipples while the fingers of his other hand squeeze and play with the other one. He swallows noisily before releasing your breasts with a pop.

"Hwa, please, let's fuck her already, you can lick her pussy later, maybe when the bunny is squirting around my dick." Seonghwa's eyes roll back in his head at the thought, and he growls softly. The vibrations on your clit literally make your whole body shake.

You are like a doll to him—boneless and pliable—and he finally pulls away from your used, reddened cunt to grab your hips, lift your legs from his shoulders, and forcefully turn you onto all fours. His hands put you in the position he wants you in, pushing your thighs further apart before he slides between them, your cunt hanging over his face.

"You're can to start fun, Joong, and I still haven't gotten enough taste of her pussy to fuck her." Seonghwa purrs as he lowers you down onto his face, his palms moving up to cradle your ass before he presses his plush lips to your pussy. Your head hangs limply, and you moan shrilly with new pleasure—the feeling is incredible. The Alpha rubs his mouth roughly against your leaking pussy. It's so filthy and dirty that it's almost going to send you over the edge.

You're a mess, and the heavy, dark promise of Seonghwa's fucking grips your chest like a clawed paw of vicious anticipation. Your slutty bunny self sings with delight as you arch into the Alpha's arms and press your pussy even harder against his gorgeous face.

The rustle of clothes and the clink of jewellery catch your attention before Hongjoong's fingers cradle your chin and lift your face to look straight up at the demonically beautiful Alpha with his sultry grin. The sight of him is enough to take your breath away. If he isn't pure brilliance, then what is he? He's completely undressed, and, as you've guessed from the erotic lighting, his body looks like it's made of gold itself: the skin is smooth and drenched in sweat in places, the chiselled chest muscles rise and fall with the rhythm of his breath, his abs tighten, and you notice a large tattoo on the inside of his arm.

But it is his cock that attracts your attention. Hongjoong's thighs are slightly spread, and he slowly strokes his cock before your face - it's thick and throbbing, pre-cum oozing from the dark pink head and the distinctive veins running down its velvety length make you want to lick it. There is a slightly swollen knot at the base. Not only are you in thrall to everything they do with you, but their excitement is as painful and acute as your own.

Your unblinking gaze is riveted on his hand, adorned with massive precious rings; you watch as she squeezes the thick length—his arousal spreading through his shaft with each lazy pump—and, unable to stop yourself, you writhe across Seonghwa's face, a strained moan escaping your bitten lips.

"A-Alpha, please..." You stutter. The desperate need is evident in your voice as you silently beg for the feel of his cock in your mouth; you want nothing more than to taste the heavy, hot length on his tongue.

A demonic, mischievous grin appears on his face as Hongjoong raises a mocking eyebrow in your direction. His cat's eyes sparkled as they caught the glow of the candles and blazed like hellfire.

"Oh, angel, you are begging for my cock; it is so nice and sweet of you." He coos as he runs his finger over your lips, and you parted them for him. "You've never sucked a dick before, have you, bunny? Daddy's going to teach you how to choke on it properly." Shivers run down your spine like ice chips at the mocking tone of his voice.

Hongjoong's hand moves to the base of his cock, and with a grip on the base, he leads it to your mouth. Teasingly, the Alpha runs the leaky head over your lips, staining them with the sticky, viscous pre-cum, and you automatically run your tongue over it, collecting the pheromone-filled liquid. The hot and sweet taste of his cum settles on your taste buds and makes you whimper with pleasure. Almost drooling to taste him, you stick out your tongue, causing the Alpha to let out a deep, dark chuckle.

"Such a cockstarved little slut." Hongjoong mockery. "The puppies are going to go crazy when they see those dolls's lips wrapped around their dicks. I would love to see your pretty mouth full of their sperm." His fingers get tangled up in your hair; squeeze it tight and hold your head in place. Hongjoong presses the head of his cock up against your lips and moans. "I'm going to fuck that pretty little throat until it bleeds." He growls at you.

His claws dig into your scalp, your jaw relaxes, your mouth opens obediently, and with a satisfied purr, Hongjoong begins to insert his massive cock. Almost immediately, you start to gag at the huge size of it. Hongjoong's hot and thick cock stretches along your tongue, easily filling your mouth and causing your jaw to ache. Hongjoong moans loudly in pleasure as he enjoys the feel of your warm, wet tongue pressing against the underside of his cock.

"This mouth is built for sucking alpha-dick. God, Seonghwa, why haven't we ever fucked bunnies before? They are fucking perfect dick sleeves." The hand on top of your head is stroking the base of your velour ears. The head of his cock touches the back of your throat, and you tighten your lips around the girth of his cock.

At the same time, you can't hold back your tears, a mixture of excitement and shame sweeping over you, tears streaming down your cheeks in thick, glistening streams.

Seonghwa pulls his mouth away from your cunt for a second before saying.

"Be nice to her, Joong. You don't want to break her before the puppies get their teeth into her. If they don't fuck the bunny, they'll go wild." After that, he will come back to your seductive cunt.

Your labia are parted, and he watches the tight ring of muscles clench rhythmically; thick streams of your sugary wetness drip from your hole onto his mouth and chin. He sticks out his tongue and licks up the viscous fluid, a loud, throaty moan escaping from his chest as he savours the taste of it. Unable to resist his desire and the intoxicating taste of you any longer, Seonghwa tightens his grip on your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he spreads your buttocks apart and lowers you all the way onto his face, his tongue immediately plunging into your tight hole. Your thighs shake on either side of that beautiful face, the desire burning in your stomach as you moan in pleasure around Hongjoong's cock, making him hiss in response.

Hongjoong's fingers wrap around your head in an attempt to push his cock deeper into your throat. You feel the bulging, hot head of his cock pressing against the back of your mouth; your throat tightens in pain, and you start to gag. Hongjoong moans at the sensation, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes, the tip of his fluffy tail brushing your tear-stained cheek. Saliva pools at the corners of your mouth as the Alpha begins to thrust his cock into your mouth, and with each thrust, you feel it slam into the back of your throat as his cock straddles your tongue.

Seonghwa's tongue moves in and out of you rhythmically, your sperm squirting disgustingly as it drips onto his face, but the Alpha doesn't care at all, he feels like he's in heaven. One of his hands spreads your ass even further apart, while the fingers of the other one caress your asshole. All of a sudden, Seonghwa plunges two fingers into your tight cunt, his long appendages opening you up and tearing through your silky walls to make you ready for his cock.

He finds the little bundle of nerves in you with ease, and you scream out in ecstasy at once, your eyes rolling back in your head as you gurgle around Hongjoong's cock. The pleasure blinds your senses, your skin heats up with lust, and your throat instantly relaxes to allow the Alpha to penetrate you even deeper. In one swift motion, he slips his cock past the tight muscles of your throat—the thick cock deliberately stretches them as he pushes his cock into the velvety passage of your throat. As he reaches the bottom, your nose is pressed against his hard, tight belly as his cock plunges deep down into your gullet. Hongjoong lets out a low, animalistic growl.

"Fuck, pet. I am going to knot your throat, angel." His fingers curl up in your hair and then pull at the base of your soft ears with a light tug. Hongjoong enjoys the feeling of your little throat wrapping around his cock, the warm, wet muscles spasming every now and then, massaging his cock in a seductive way.

Seonghwa begins to move his fingers in and out of you, his long fingers aggressively stroking your silken walls. Synchronously, his lips wrap around your clit, pulling the swollen bud into his warm mouth and sucking hard. Spikes of feverish lust flare up your spine, and, lost in pleasure, you clench your fists on the luxurious fur blankets that lie beneath you. You squeeze your cunt even harder against Seonghwa's sensual, plump lips. Your hips buck to increase the pleasure. You feel the Alpha's devilish grin spread across his lips as he drags his teeth across the flesh of your throbbing clit. With a snap, he releases your clit and begins to rub his fingers even harder against your G-spot.

"Ride my face, bunny; let your mommy eat." Seonghwa moans loudly.

You squeal, your thighs trembling from the crazy stimulation. The sound of your pleasure is vibrating against Hongjoong's cock, which is still deep in your throat. The Alpha snarls, grabs the back of your head with all his might, and pulls his cock out of your bruised throat. Your pupils dilate, your muscles tense—a slight twinge of pain rushes through you as Hongjoong pulls his cock out of your throat and then pushes it back in sharply. The thick cock fills your mouth completely, the hot head pressing against your soft tongue. You try to take a deep breath to fill your painfully burning lungs before the Alpha moves his hips, and his cock immediately pierces your gullet once more.

You immediately choke on his cock, but the sound of you gagging, combined with the feeling of your throat tightening around him, only serves to push Hongjoong even further. His hand wraps around the gentle curve of your neck, and his thumb presses down hard on the skin of your neck. The imprint of his cock is visible on your throat. Hongjoong is rubbing his fingers over the bulge as he continues thrusting in and out. Your stretched throat shifts under his touch, the outline of his big dick presses against the palm of his hand with every movement of his hips, and at the feeling of that bulge, a booming animal growl escapes from the Alpha's chest.

"Take it all, my angel. You desperate little slut, take your Alpha's cock down your throat. Tell me, my little bunny, have you ever thought about how an Alpha would fuck you in the mouth?" Joong purrs. Your eyes are streaked with tears as you look at him through your thick lashes. "Do you like it when your mommy eats your slut cunt while I fuck you in the throat, my princess?" He asks, and you nod your head without a moment's hesitation.

The movement of your head makes his cock twitch in your throat, and he hisses at the sensation. Hongjoong throws his head back, sweat trickling down his neck and dripping onto his heaving golden chest, his devilish mouth parted in breathless moans, his fingers gripping the back of your head tightly as he continues mercilessly fucking your mouth, lost in the pleasure of your hot walls convulsing around his member.

The hot pleasure gathers in your belly, your stomach twisting itself into a tight knot. When your thighs start shaking violently on either side of Seonghwa's head and your cunt starts milking his fingers—your inner walls tightening rhythmically around his fingers—Seonghwa knows you're close. He plunges his fingers even deeper into you, stroking your most sensitive spot over and over again, bringing you to a state of semi-consciousness. Your body is on edge; your back is arched, and your hips are rolling wildly against the beautiful face of the Alpha as you chase after your orgasm.

It's hard not to feel dizzy, especially when Hongjoong's cock is ramming down your throat and Seonghwa's fingers and mouth are giving you heavenly pleasure, satisfying a primal need you never knew you had.

"Bunny, you were made for a wolf's cock... dirty girl, huh? Does it please the prey to be the breeding bitch for the predators?" Hongjoong hisses mockingly and slaps you lightly on your plump cheek, which is swollen from his cock.

"She looks good, doesn't she? Little bunny, finally realised where she's supposed to belong." Seonghwa moans. "Come on, princess, be a good bitch and cum mommy's face." The words are muffled by the swollen clit in his mouth. The movement of his lips causes his sharpened fangs to brush against your sensitive bud, and the pleasure accompanied by his fingers continuing to stroke your G-spot makes you fall over.

Hongjoong is so close to tying the knot that he can barely push it out of your mouth; his balls are tight against your chin, slick with saliva and pre-cum, as he comes hard down your throat, his moaning more like a howl than anything else. Thick, hot cum pours down your throat in a steady stream, and you choke, trying to swallow, trying to ride out your own orgasm—the euphoria ricocheting through you, your toes curling up, and your body starting to shake. Your hips are rolling furiously against Seonghwa's face.

Seonghwa continues to suck and nibble at your clit as he digs his fingers into you, his knuckles curling mercilessly as he caresses the soft, spongy patch of nerves inside of you. There is genuine euphoria coursing through your veins. Black specks of light blur your vision as you are immersed in blinding bliss and feel a wave of incredible pleasure sweep through you; your silken walls tighten almost to the point of pain, making it difficult for his fingers to move.

Your cum flows uncontrollably down his chin and down his neck, thick, sweet-smelling streams that land right on his waiting tongue. You squirt all over Seonghwa's face, and fuck, he's absolutely delighted. His hands squeeze your thighs until they are bruised, the Alpha presses his mouth to your vagina, and he drinks you as if you were a sacred divine essence.

"God, you taste so damn good; give me some more of that." Seonghwa groans like he's on the verge of coming. However, you're so lost in the thick haze of bliss that you barely notice what he's saying.

Hongjoong's cum starts to leak out of the sides of your mouth, and he smears it over your cheeks in a loving way.

"Sugar bunny, you are ripe for us; your alphas are going to breed you so well." There is a weak jerk in his hips, and another stream of cum shoots down your throat.

Seonghwa's tongue plunges into your cunt as he drinks your cum. The tip of his nose brushes against your swollen clit, sending a slight tingling sensation of pleasure through your entire body. Seonghwa continues to lap at you as his tongue dives in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm even as you continue to involuntarily clench.

It takes Hongjoong two more waves of intense release before his knot finally loosens, and he immediately pulls out of you, watching as the milky liquid runs out of your mouth and drips onto the fur covering. His hand gives your poor jaw a gentle massage before he leans in to pull you into the most disgusting, messy kiss you can imagine. Your mouth is full of sperm, and Hongjoong's tongue is running it down your chin. The alpha is moaning contentedly into your lips, swallowing his own sperm and licking your mouth from the inside with his silky appendage.

Finally, you feel the pleasure subside. You hiss from the overstimulation as Seonghwa continues to tongue your sensitive core, his tongue swirling with seductive movements over the trembling, leaking hole. A strangled scream slips from your throat as he does so. When Seonghwa is completely satisfied, he lets go of you and crawls out from underneath you, leaving your exhausted body to fall helplessly onto the bed.

"Don't relax, angel; we've only just begun." Hongjoong whispers in a sweet voice against your lips. There is a sadistic subtext to his words; his intention is to play with you until sunrise and maybe even beyond.

You don't hear Seonghwa undressing, his designer clothes falling to the floor like something he finds offensive. But you have a perfect sense of his hot, flexible body pressing against you as he is back on the bed. The Alpha pulls your hips towards him, and you hiss, trying to move away from the pain of his hard, thick cock pressing against your swollen cunt. As Seonghwa lightly rubs the head of his velvet cock over your wet cunt, your eyes widen in fear. He runs his claws lovingly down the length of your spine before he wraps his hand around your plump cotton tail. You squeal so loudly that it is likely to be heard by all the members of his clan. Your breath comes in short gasps, almost panting, your bones going limp as you press your cheek against Hongjoong's thigh, his hand stroking lazily through your tousled hair.

Even though you've just had a massive orgasm and your cunt is overly sensitive, the rabbit's natural need to breed is still not satisfied, and your pussy begins to ache from wanting to be filled. As you press your plump cheek against the magnificent thighs of the Alpha, you whisper a plea.

"P-please fill me in. I need your knot, Alpha."

A devilish fire ignites in Hongjoong's eyes as you look up at him through thick, wet lashes, your eyes wide with desire, combined with the swollen lips from sucking his cock, still covered in his cum. An animalistic growl echoes through the room, and his lips curl into the most malicious wolfish grin. His eyes meet Seonghwa's for a second, and the two Alphas are talking quietly before you hear Seonghwa chuckling darkly behind you.

"Take her." The black-haired Alpha gives the order, and Hongjoong pulls you close to him. He makes himself comfortable on the luxurious, majestic bed, leaning back on mountains of velvet and silk pillows, before he positions your body as he wants it. Your back is pressed against his bare, wet chest, your thighs spread on either side of his own, and you gasp as you feel Hongjoong's dick pressing against your buttocks. Alpha is painfully hard again; the head of his cock is leaking pre-cum once more and staining your skin with it.

Hongjoong squeezes your thigh with one hand, the Alpha's fingers digging into your plush flesh until they cause bruises, and with his other hand, he squeezes your full breast lazily. Your head falls on his shoulder, your throat goes dry, and your skin tingles as he touches it. He starts to play with your nipples again, stimulating you until they start to flow freely. You're not even in the middle of your game yet, and you look really fucked. You still have to take their knots, and you're not entirely sure you'll survive if they do more damage to you.

"Spread your legs, my little bunny. Mommy's going to play with that pretty pussy. I hope you are ready for me, because I am going to eat you alive." The timbre of Seonghwa's voice is deep, and the echo of his voice goes straight to your pussy. There's a heavy authority in his voice, and your legs start to move on their own, spreading even wider to please him.

And then you turn your attention to Seonghwa with all your might. Alpha is truly divine, not only in his face but also in his body; he is like a god, like art itself. Every curve of his lithe body is incredible, as is the diffuse glow of the candles licking at his golden caramel skin. You can't help but feel that you want to worship him with your lips and tongue. His cock, just as you imagined—thick, long, pressed against the plane of his stomach—was hot and hard with seductively swollen veins. The thick knot at the base of it swelled, and you knew that it was going to get even bigger when the Alpha tied you up.

His bottomless, hypnotic eyes are constantly fixed on the wet folds of your cunt as it spreads open for him, a small hole through which clear fluid flows. His hands fall down to your ankles before he spreads your legs even wider, your feet pressed to the bed on either side of Hongjoong's hips. He slowly crawls between your legs, arching his back. You watch in fascination as his ass bounces. His fluffy tail slices lazily through the air with every move he makes. A strange mixture of wild animal and some kind of ancient deity, Seonghwa truly embodies the Alpha. When the Alpha gets incredibly close to you, you tilt your head to the side and expose your entire neck to him. This is a sign of complete submission and obedience. Everything about Seonghwa is dominant, and your instincts are in response to him with the snap of a finger.

Taking the opportunity, Hongjoong's lips are immediately on your neck, leaving more hickeys on your inflamed skin and sucking your scent gland into his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth. In an instant, a piercing meow escapes your lips, and you give a pitiful whimper. Sharp fangs claw at your flesh, the pain causing your cunt to clench in agony against nothing at all. When Seonghwa sees your cunt clenching and your narrow entrance trembling and oozing, he laughs wickedly. Long fingers run along the wet entrance of your pussy.

"Bunny, aren't you a real treat for the wolf, huh? Sweet, needy whore, Hongjoong is right; if we had known that all bunnis were such horny whores, we would have gotten ourselves a nice pet a long time ago. But now we have you, Princess. Look, your cunt is just begging to be filled with an Alpha cock." Seonghwa purred in a velvety voice, and you nodded your head stupidly at his words.

"Please, mommy, fill me. Fill your little bunny." You beg; the words sound so desperate. Hongjoong bites harder into your neck, not hard enough to tear the flesh, but just hard enough. The meaning of this is getting through to you; today they are going to mark you and mate you.

"A little more, and I'll take you." Seonghwa's purr is like needles tingling your skin.

His two fingers are plunging into your cunt, and your back is arching as you call out his name. He moves them lazily, stretching the walls of your cunt, his cock twitching in anticipation, and you salivate as you watch a thick, thick droplet pour out of the swollen red head and run down the velvet length. Your breathing becomes shallow, and you savour the slight pain of the pleasure you are feeling. Seonghwa's fingers spread the soft walls of your vagina as he played with your cunt. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing it persistently, his fingers going all the way inside you, the silver rings scratching, but you love the feeling. You let out a high-pitched squeal, your bruised throat tightening as it sounded.

"This is right, darling; take everything we give you." Another one of his fingers enters you, three of them moving in a rhythmic way, making a squelching sound each time they pull out of you. In view of how wet you are, you stretch easily around his fingers, and Seonghwa purrs in approval. "The puppies will love you; you're so flexible, the perfect cocksleeve." He continues.

"Please tie me up. I want to feel your knot, mommy."

"Yeah? Do you want us to fuck you, angel? Do you want to have the feeling of our cocks deep in your belly? Hongjoong asks.

You nod, a sniffle escaping from your lips.

"Bunny, you're such a dirty slut; do you ache and leak when you think of your tight cunt being stretched around our knots while we breed you like our good bitch?" While his thumb rubs your clit in small, aggressive circles, Seonghwa's three fingers plunge into you.

"P-please, mommy, please..." You beg openly, sobbing as tears stream down your face, making you look incredibly attractive in the eyes of both Seonghwa and Hongjoong. A dark chuckle fills the air. Hongjoong's chest rises and falls with the sensual purr against your back; his cock twitches against your ass, the pre-cum oozing from the swollen head onto your back.

Hongjoong has both of his hands cupping your plump breasts, massaging them with his bejewelled hands; they are squeezing your swollen nipples roughly, tugging at the nipple buds, and continuing to scratch the skin on your neck with their teeth.

You can feel Seonghwa's fourth finger pressing down on your hole. God, his knot must be huge. As he slides four long fingers inside you, you let out a choked cry of pain and pleasure. Your cunt protests against the stretching; a searing pain stings your inner walls as you feel Seonghwa's fingers tearing at your entrance. Your small hands grab hold of his hips, the nails digging into his golden skin, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in his body as Seonghwa continues to push all four of his fingers deeper and deeper into you. As your mucus begins to leak profusely again, the walls of your entrance stretch around the four fingers, and he slides in easily.

"That's my good girl, so perfect for mommy." Alpha praises you.

Your toes curl up, sparks of bliss intertwined with pain, causing you to mew softly. Your hips sway weakly, your pussy clenching in reflex; as a result, his fingers penetrate you almost all the way to the base. Your back arched, and you moaned softly, causing both Alphas to giggle at the sound.

"You sound like a needy whore, furry. Weren't you the one who used to tell us that you were a good girl? Do good girls make sounds like that? Do good girls get their cunts stretched with four fingers, huh?" Hongjoong coos.

"I'm a good girl, really. I'm a good girl." You sob, sobbing and shaking. The long velour ears twitch, and the cotton tail tucks.

"I can't wait to feel that sweet pussy around my cock." Seonghwa moans, and all of a sudden his face is right in front of you, the lips just centimetres apart. "Give me a kiss, my little darling." The Alpha whispers to you, and you obey, completely mesmerised by his hypnotic black eyes.

Seonghwa's lips are unbelievably soft, insistent, and hot. When you kiss him, you still don't know what to do, but it doesn't matter at all because the Alpha's tongue is immediately in your mouth, circling around your own. There is a strange creamy taste on his silken appendage, and you realise it is you—the taste of your own mucus mixing with the Alpha's saliva and flowing down your throat. He is kissing you so deeply and so passionately that you are completely stripped of any vestige of common sense.

Your small hand tentatively clasps Seonghwa's slender wrist as you feel your orgasm build up uncontrollably, leaving you teetering on the edge of a new euphoria. The orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, violent and sudden, your back arching and your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you are filled with ecstasy for the second time today. Your pussy clenches furiously around Seonghwa's fingers as he continues to caress your G-spot and intensify your pleasure, his lips continuing to kiss you non-stop.

"T-Too much." You moan into his gorgeous mouth, the words coming out slurred and weak, your tongue barely able to move from the sheer bliss that is washing over you. But the Alphas continue to torment you. Hongjoong viciously rubs your clit in tight circles while Seonghwa repeatedly stimulates the sweet spot deep inside you.

Immediately after the second orgasm comes the third—your pussy tightens in pain as you are forced to experience a new wave of pleasure. Squealing loudly and moaning something unintelligible, your left hand grabs Seonghwa's wrist to stop his relentless movements, while the other scratches Hongjoong's thigh furiously. But this only excites the Alpha more, and he growls, a sexy sound that dances across your skin like a discharge of electricity. Seonghwa finally decides to have mercy on you and caresses your walls one last time before he pulls his fingers out of you. Your contracting soft walls are pulsating with constant stimulation, and it's painful but at the same time so incredibly good that you feel like you're floating. It's only a moment before you hear Hongjoong's insidious, sadistic voice whispering in your ear.

"Cum for daddy, angel, show me how you can squirt." A hard slap on your clit sends you over the edge the fourth time that night. As your body continues to convulse between them, the burning sensation on your clit causes powerful streams of cum to shoot from your swollen pussy and land on Seonghwa's chest. The Alphas groaned, and a wave of heavy, sweet pheromones filled the room, along with the sultry, thick flavours of bitter almond and pink pepper. The smell of sex is incredible, and if you could think right now, you would be embarrassed by the fact that this aroma is spreading throughout the house, literally soaking into the walls, driving the younger wolves crazy behind the closed door of Seonghwa's royal bedroom.

But you are too far away in your subconscious mind, too deeply immersed in the ocean of painful pleasure, to be able to think about it.

Hongjoong's arms wrap around your body, pressing you against his wet, heaving chest, his hands moving lightly over your body. Seonghwa follows his movements, crawling over you and kissing you with soft kisses as they both let you rest and return to your place.

Your body shakes from the all-consuming waves of pleasure, tears burning your eyes—salty traces running down your face as you sob again and again, begging the Alphas to stop or to continue. You're not sure what you want more of. Breathing hard, your chest heaving, you slowly come back to reality. The sudden emptiness in your vagina makes you whimper pitifully. Your mating instinct urges you to keep at it until the Alphas have tied you up and claimed you, sinking their sharp fangs into your neck and marking you with their claim to you.

By now you know you must be completely exhausted—the energy in your body is completely drained by four powerful consecutive orgasms sweeping through your fragile body, yet your body still desperately craves the thick, hot Alpha cocks inside you. And you knew for sure that you would not be satisfied until you were spread out and tied up in knots and your belly was not swollen with a huge amount of their sperm. This is the way the anatomy and the consciousness of the bunny work; the whole of its life is dedicated to one thing and one thing only: sex and mating. And until your pussy is flowing with their sperm, your body and your instinct will continue to push you on and on and on until this need is completely satisfied. So you swallow what little self-respect you have left and whine pitifully, begging the alphas to take advantage of you.

"Knot me up. Please knot me up, mommy. I've been such a good girl. I deserve your knot." You beg, choking on your own words, sounding more like broken breaths than something coherent to say.

You buck your hips, the movement making you grind against Hongjoong's hard cock as it slides between the cheeks of your plump ass in the most delicious way, Seonghwa's heavy, velvety hardness pressing against the inside of your thigh.

"Fuck me, I need the Alphas to breed me, please." I need it so bad right now. "You ask again, and this time you use the most vulgar words that I have ever heard come out of your mouth.

"Oh my God, what a dirty mouth you have, bunny." Hongjoong says this in a mocking tone and runs the tip of his tongue along the pulsating vein in the back of your neck.

"Should we do that or not, fluffy, hmm? You're acting like a whore; tell me, Joong, are we going to fuck her if she behaves badly?" Seonghwa's sharp claws scratch lightly across your thighs, and you let out a groan. It is yet another humiliation for you, another mockery of your desperate state.

"Please, Seonghwa..." It is just this one word that changes absolutely everything. It seems as if the sound of your own name, which you utter, breaks all the self-control in the Alpha, and he lets out a deep, animal-like growl.

His bottomless, predatory eyes with a red tinge glide over you until he meets your gaze, and you are completely caught in his grasp. Behind you, Hongjoong purrs velvety with anticipation; he can feel it; the air is getting even thicker with the poisonously sweet pheromones of the main Alpha. Seonghwa kisses you again. The kiss is devilishly rough with an open mouth; it's more teeth and tongue than lips, but it seems that no one cares about precision and tenderness any more; primitive instincts are burning just below the surface of the skin. Your lips meet in a messy way, his tongue shoots out and slides together with yours, and you taste the remains of yours, which still drips from his lips and chin. After a few moments, he breaks the kiss, and, unable to resist, your tongue darts out and slides across his lips, finally doing what you've been thinking about—licking his beautiful mouth. Seonghwa's pupils dilate, and his irises are almost completely engulfed in a vicious darkness at the erotic sight of you.

"You're mommy's princess, right, little bunny? Will you do anything for me?" Seonghwa moans, his lips brushing against yours with every word he utters. Then his fangs bite into your lower lip. He turns you over on all fours, almost like a rag doll, without waiting for you to answer.

The erratic tremors of your orgasm still shake your body, and you roll onto all fours, limbs trembling like your plump cotton tail. However, your remaining strength and sanity are almost taken away by the sight that appears before you. Hongjoong lies surrounded by luxurious pillows, his head thrown back slightly, his hair dishevelled in his face, looking at you with half-closed, lustful eyes under long, trembling lashes. Plump scarlet lips stretched into a crooked, cruel grin; his cock pressed proudly against his hard, sculpted stomach, pre-cum leaking from the pink head, glistening beads on his abs.

He beckons you with his fingers in a "come here" motion, his tongue outstretched, sliding lazily over the upper row of teeth. You are completely under his spell; your body is in a state of automatic movement. You slowly move closer to him, your hips swaying as you do so, tantalising Seonghwa as you go. You lift one of your legs and throw it over his hips, so that you are now sitting on top of him. Behind you, Seonghwa moans in a low voice as he looks down at your wet pussy.

Your whole body is swollen from him playing with you; your entrance is swollen and keeps twitching as if begging to be filled. Thick streams of your juices flow down, coating your thighs with wetness, and more of it flows down Hongjoong's dick, wrapping it in your arousal. His eyes narrow and darken as he watches your small, trembling hands grip Joong's shoulders and you press your pussy against his cock, using it as leverage to start grinding against his cock, coating its length with even more lubricant.

"That's it, angel; daddy is going to take care of you." Hongjoong purrs sultrily, the smug grin on his face getting wider and wider. He slaps you hard on your ass, and the pleasurable pain makes you press against his amazing body, your nails weakly scraping along the bulging pecs of his chest. "You'll sit on my dick like a good girl should, won't you, furry?" He grabs your hip with one hand, lifting you slightly, while his other grabs the base of his cock.

Rubbing the head between your folds, Hongjoong mixes your arousal. His thick pre-cum stains your lower lips, and your slick soaks his cock. A lewd humming escapes your lips as you feel his hot cockhead spreading your slit and your hips squirming as you try to ride him, your breath catching as his head presses against your aching cunt. Tired of his own teasing, Hongjoong takes hold of your hips with both of his hands before he begins to lower you down onto his cock.

Your trembling lower lip is caught between your bunny's teeth as you gnaw at the soft flesh and feel him filling you—the pressure of his cock slowly stretching your soft, silken walls. Soon, the head of his cock begins to penetrate much deeper than Seonghwa's fingers had before, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

Inch by inch, he fills you, his thick cock spreading your tight, almost virginal cunt for him as Seonghwa watches you both, stroking his cock lazily at the lewd sight of your stretched, swollen labia. After long moments, Hongjoong is still buried inside of you; his thick cock seems to go on forever, and as you look down, your cunt throbs as you realise that he's only a little more than halfway inside of you. Your stomach begins to ache as he continues to plunge his cock into your pussy, and when he's three-quarters inside, your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders, leaving long, angry red welts marring his skin, but he doesn't care; ripping his back open only makes him fuck you harder.

"Alpha…" Your piercing moan is heard.

"Is daddy's dick too big for you, angel? Can you handle the big, bad wolf's thick cock? Or should we start again and prepare you better?" He purrs, and the playful, wicked intonation in his voice can be clearly heard.

Breathing heavily, you lower yourself down on top of him in one smooth motion. The sudden penetration of his remaining cock makes you both gasp, your heads rolling back at the hard intrusion as you ache. Hongjoong hisses beneath you, his hips jerking as he is completely enveloped in your velvety warmth.

"Someone's impatient, aren't you, bunny?" Hwa purrs as he runs his claws down the length of your spine to the juicy curve of your ass. Seonghwa brushes the hair from your neck before planting a kiss on the sensitive flesh. "The princess has found a suitable throne for herself. Hasn't she? You'll be taking mommy's cock soon, darling, but in the meantime, Joong will prepare you well." The Alpha speaks, his voice ringing in your ears like melted honey. Hongjoong's eyelids flutter at the sensation of your silky walls pulsating around his thick length.

You are completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the hot, hard length of the Alpha pulsating inside of you. But Seonghwa continues to seduce you, his lips sliding along your bare shoulder and sharp teeth scratching your skin, and you know that by the end of this night, those teeth will have left their incurable mark on you.

Suddenly, he pulls away from you, and his hands fall to your hips in their place. He easily lifts you off Hongjoong's cock, and with his wolfish strength, he slams you back onto him, the wolf's thick cock slamming into your cervix. You are literally on the verge of a howl from the sudden, aggressive movement. Seonghwa lets out a purr of pleasure at the lustful sight of your tiny cunt stretched around Hongjoong's thick girth.

Below you, the Alpha gets fed up with all the attention he doesn't get and starts spanking you viciously. Your skin blooms with his handprint.

"Ride me, furry." The authority of his command is clear in his voice.

His fingers dig into your wounded thighs, Hongjoong guiding them the way he wants them to go, setting a hard and deep rhythm of motion. With each thrust, you feel his thick head brush against each of your nerve endings. The searing heat of lust burns through your bloodstream. You breathe hard, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock stretch along your tender walls. Hongjoong is used to getting what he wants, and he is so passionate about wanting to fuck you senseless that he digs his legs into the bed before he begins to thrust upward. His fingers squeeze your thighs until they bruise as he begins to fuck you as hard as only an Alpha wolf can fuck you. Your tits bounce with each powerful thrust as Hongjoong pounds you, his cock thrusting in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace, using you for his pleasure.

"Oh God, a-alpha..." You whimper, your words stuttering out with every thrust of his cock as it enters you. His pace is rough; Hongjoong is practically tearing your tight passage apart as he rams his massive cock into you, and with each thrust, you feel the thick head of his cock hitting your cervix. A deep pressure begins to build up at the entrance to your womb, and soon you begin to whimper in pain—a searing pain that pulsates through you from his rough movements. But in spite of your pain, your slutty little bunny nature is singing with delight.

"Good little bitch. So damn good for daddy." Hongjoong growls, his eyes turning bloody as his carnal instincts take over and his already rough thrusts somehow become even rougher. The nails are digging into your flesh as you are whimpering. With each of his powerful thrusts, his entire dick goes inside you—from the head all the way to the base, where you can feel the swelling of its knot.

"My angel feels so good—so damn tight and so damn wet. A good little slut for her Alpha. I'm going to breed your pussy... I'm going to fuck you, bunny. Tie you up, make you saturated and full of my cum... My, bunny..." Hongjoong growls between his hard thrusts, each word making your skin flush with heat. You breathe heavily as you grind your hips against him.

"P-please fill me up, daddy. I want your knot." You whimper in response, and your words only elicit an animalistic growl from the two Alphas. There's a new pair of hands on your hips. Seonghwa does his best to stop you both.

Irritated by the sudden stop, Hongjoong growls at the Alpha in charge. A low growl comes from deep inside Seonghwa's chest, and for a moment his aura goes all wolfish, filling the room with sultry, overbearing pheromones that make you feel nauseous in the back of your throat and make your head spin. There is a lot of him, so much so that it feels like you can feel Seonghwa with every cell of your body. The feeling is almost painful, and you throw your head to the side and whine loudly in complete and utter submission.

"Know your place, Hongjoong." Seonghwa is frightening when he is angry, and you don't want to fall into his dark side at any time.

You whimper from all the Alpha energy, and it seems to break the tense atmosphere as the black-haired Alpha's aura softens and returns to normal. He turns his hypnotic, dark gaze on your trembling body.

"Mmmm, my little pet, mommy will never hurt you... as long as you are obedient, of course." His velvety voice is as caressing to your skin as his lips are to yours.

The tension is released as much as it can be, and you take a deep breath.

"Don't move, princess." This time, Hongjoong just nods, holding your hips in a death grip. As he moves in behind you, you feel Seonghwa's fingers teasing your stretched-out entrance, smearing your sweet-smelling lubricant all over it. Then he pushes two of his fingers inside your pussy.

Your smooth, soft walls stretch easily around his two long fingers as they slide right up to the edge of Hongjoong's dick. With a gasp of pleasure, you move your hips before pushing them back into his hand in an attempt to push his fingers even deeper. Seonghwa laughs darkly, the velvety sound washing over your skin along with his hot breath as he caresses your buttocks with one hand while the fingers of the other mercilessly stretch your hole. Sinking them all the way in, he rubs them against the walls of your vagina, the movement sending pleasure shooting up your spine like fire, before he pulls them apart, trying to stretch you even further.

"M-Mommy, please tie me up." You sound so desperate that Hongjoong's dick twitches inside of you, excited by the sound of it. The need to be filled with his cum and the need to be bred make your cunt ache and tighten up.

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of you, and in their place, you feel him move in behind you, pressing his chest against the small of your back. God, he's so hot and smells so good. His pheromones are awfully sweet, so thick they're practically sticky. The smell of sex and black cherry makes your head spin and your tongue heavy. It feels like you're drunk. The soft palm of his hand presses against the small of your back as he pushes you roughly, forcing you forward onto Hongjoong, your heavy, milky breasts hanging over his face. From underneath, Hongjoong nuzzles his face into the lush, soft mounds of your breasts, purring in approval like a cat that has eaten cream, his hands spreading your juicy, plump buttocks for the main alpha to see.

"Fluffy, I'm going to fill you with my cock; I'm going to breed this little bunny." His voice is dark and silken, and you hear the dark promise in every sound he makes. Your cotton tail shrinks in fear, but at the same time, a thick stream of mucus flows out of your filled hole and runs down Hongjoong's cock and balls.

Seonghwa positions the head of his cock at the entrance of your vagina, just above the spot where Hongjoong is buried inside of you. At the moment when he starts to put pressure on you and tries to push himself into you, your muscles tighten automatically. The contraction makes Hongjoong let out a deep moan as the tight ring of muscles squeezes his cock like a velvet vice. But Seonghwa is not embarrassed by this; his dick is pressed against the already tense entrance all the time.

The moment you feel his thick, leaking head enter you, your walls burn with the pleasure of the sweet stretch. Your back arched, and you squealed, your long ears fluttering uselessly up to your head. Leaning forward, Seonghwa sinks his teeth into your shoulder—not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you start to cry. His huge cock continues to thrust into you, stretching the walls of your vagina to the breaking point. Despite the copious amount of slime leaking from your sweet entrance and the fact that Seonghwa had previously prepared your cunt with four fingers, you are still torn apart by his enormous girth, the stretch burning your soft walls and making you sob and choke on moans.

"I-I can't, Alpha. It's too. It hurts." You groan as you close your eyes and grab hold of the pillows on either side of Hongjoong's head. The Alpha throws his head back and lifts his beautiful face up to caress your nipples, mixing the pain with the pleasure even more. You would never have thought that you would find yourself in a position like this; not even in your most shameful fantasies and forbidden dreams would you have allowed yourself to think of such a thing. You are a gentle, obedient bunny, sandwiched between two deadly predators, begging for their cocks as if it were God's mercy.

What would the bunnies on your farm think? What would your mother think of you if she could see your tiny virgin cunt stretching around the massive cocks of the wolves as if you were made for it? But the thing that scared you the most and made you feel ashamed was that your bunny nature was in seventh heaven with happiness and joy.

"You are going to take everything the princess gives you; you are going to take my dick and say thank you; even if we have to rip this pussy to the point of bleeding, do you understand, bunny?" Hwa growls, and you can clearly hear the dominant order in the sound of it.

You have no other choice but to nod your head obediently and to submit to every wish of the predator.

Seonghwa continues to plunge into you, his thick and hard cock sliding inch by inch into your cunt that is already filled to the brim. With each passing second, you feel your walls being torn apart in pain by the length of his cock as his hot head penetrates your velvety depths. When he's halfway in, you moan softly and bury your face in Hongjoong's hair between his soft, snow-white ears. Inhaling his deep scent of pink pepper and chocolate, you let it wash over you. It is such a welcome comfort that you need it so much. You are sure that you will be torn in two if Seonghwa goes on like this.

You know that if you were to tell him to stop, he wouldn't do so. You remain silent, allowing him to continue to plunder your ravage with his monstrous cock, for despite the pain that shoots through your cunt, there is a torrent of unbridled pleasure underneath. It's a bit of a masochistic pleasure, but you enjoy it all the same.

All of a sudden, you feel Seonghwa push himself all the way into you, the thick knot pressing against your stretched-out entrance. The head of his cock hits the wall of your back and reaches up to the point where the head of Hongjoong's cock is pressing against the groove of your cervix. Seonghwa purred with pleasure as your walls clenched at the penetration.

"You're such a good bunny—the perfect sleeve for a cock. My precious little thing." The Alpha praises you; there is an animal intonation in his voice.

"The most beautiful bitch we've ever had." Hongjoong purrs from beneath you, his chest rumbling at the sound as he continues to lick and nibble at your nipples. His mouth fills with sweet, aromatic milk. "I've never thought of church girls as my type, but darling, I've enjoyed fucking your pussy."

"So good. You took both our cocks, princess." Seonghwa moans and leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, where he will soon bite. "And you are going to take both of our knots as well; you are going to do it, right? Are you going to take the knots of both of your alphas in your little cunt, just like mommy tells you to?"

Your tongue feels so heavy in your mouth and your lips are so uncomfortably dry that you can barely manage to utter a single coherent word, but you are too afraid to disobey Seonghwa.

"Yes, yes, I will take both of your knots. I will be the best bunny in the world for you."

Both of them freeze inside you for a moment, enjoying the velvety heat of your pussy and waiting for you to get used to the huge size of their girth as they open you up. The room is filled with the sounds of hoarse breathing, low purring, and your squeaking. But you can hear distant scratching and breathless moaning coming from behind the closed door of Seonghwa's royal bedroom. The door shakes a few times, as if someone is trying to rip it off its hinges, and then everything freezes once more, plunging the bedroom into a silent, stuffy atmosphere of sex and lust.

The burning sensation from the dilation soon begins to fade. It disappears until only a slight twinge of pain remains as pure euphoria begins to take over. You move your hips gently, squeezing your sensitive walls, the whore inside you humming as you feel unbelievably filled.

Seonghwa's lips slide over your skin, smearing saliva and licking and biting you, leaving his possessive marks all over your body. Meanwhile, Hongjoong takes your nipple in his mouth and brushes his teeth over the hardened tip of it as he sucks hard on your breast. Your mouth opens with a soft moan. The stimulation is overwhelming; it's like you're stuck between living and dying. Your body feels light and boneless, like a doll, and your head is completely empty. They have completely fucked the shit out of your brain, and the pressure of their thick, swollen knots tells you that the best is yet to come. They stuff you with their knots until your belly is swollen with a huge amount of cum, and you swallow, remembering how much Hongjoong cum in your mouth. You can almost feel the thick liquid running down your oesophagus.

At that very moment, you feel Seonghwa pull away from you, his cock dragging along Hongjoong's, before he slams into you again with all his might.

You are almost choking on your scream; your eyes are rolling back into the back of your head, and your whole body is shaking. This movement is the only warning you have, because almost immediately they start to ram their cocks into you again. They grind you between their bodies like a doll, controlling your hips as they wish and driving their cocks into you. With each thrust, Seonghwa's teeth become sharper against your skin. They warn you of the Alpha's impending bite.

Their pace is unnatural; neither of them can catch the rhythm of the other, which only adds to your pleasure. Your body twitches and shakes from their sharp, stuttering thrusts. With each thrust, they plunge their cocks as deep as they can into you, their hips pressing against yours and their swollen, dripping cockheads hitting the back walls of your vagina. Each time you feel your toes curl in pleasure, Their brutal thrusts create a strong pressure in the pit of your stomach, and you fall limply on top of Hongjoong, letting them pound into you, their cocks thrusting mercilessly into you over and over again. Seonghwa's soft palm presses against your belly, pressing against the bulge that their cocks are forming inside of you.

"All of it is mine!" His growl is so animalistic and possessive that it makes your prey instincts start to panic. Instinctively, you squeeze together, your pussy spasming around their cocks. Your brain is torn apart by pleasure, fear, and pain. You do not know what to focus on. It drives you almost so far into subspace that you practically lose the ability to speak, and all you can make are inarticulate, primitive sounds.

Their stuttering pace doesn't last long, and they soon find their rhythm—Hongjoong pulling out of you and Seonghwa pushing in, each time hitting the most sensitive part of you. Their new, brutal pace makes your eyes roll back into your skull, and your cunt is filled by at least one of their cocks with each thrust. Their hips press against yours, and you hiss with pleasure as the Alphas take it in turns to slam into you, using your pussy as a sleeve for both of their cocks. A mixture of wanton desire and ecstatic bliss is running through your blood; your veins are boiling with pleasure, and you are sure that you are going to go mad with euphoria. Their cocks are filling you all the time and do not give you a break from the lustful ecstasy.

What they do to you can hardly be called sex; rough, animalistic, primitive mating is a more accurate description of what they do.

"So fucking tight, daddy will fill you with his cum." The Alpha moans under you, his sweat-soaked bangs clinging to his demonically beautiful face, his lips bitten so hard that drops of blood appear on the soft flesh. His eyes are wild and dark, like the bottom of hell itself, and it scares the hell out of you.

Seonghwa sinks his teeth into your neck more and more aggressively, his teeth marks cutting into your flesh as he goes. His claws have long since torn through the plush, plump flesh of your thighs to the point where you are bleeding.

"You are my bunny. You belong to me alone, and I will breed you. I will fuck you day and night until there is no other thought in your head but me and your belly is swollen with my cum. You will always be full. You will walk around the whole fucking house, dripping cum all over your pretty legs, so that every fucking person in this house will know that you are mine.".

You know that they're both on the verge of orgasm, their cocks pulsating inside you, the knots becoming more and more obvious with each thrust and clinging painfully to your used, swollen hole. Your whole body is bouncing from the sheer force of the thrusts of their cocks. Your consciousness is completely lost in the haze of orgasm that is on the horizon. Suddenly, both of the Alphas are slamming into you at the same time, their cocks causing your walls to stretch out around their girths.

You squeal at the sensation: Seonghwa's cock pressing against Hongjoong's against your soft walls, the flesh above your womb swelling, and the thick outline of their cocks bulging against your abdominal skin. The bulge is pushed into your womb by Seonghwa's hand. You let out a hiss of burning pleasure.

As the Alpha's hand continues to press against your swollen belly—the soft flesh of your inner walls pulsating around it—a dry sob escapes your lips and tears sting your eyes. Your veins burn with pleasure, spikes of white-hot heat shooting down your spine all the way to the tips of your toes. As you feel their knots begin to thicken, your tear-stained eyes widen in fear. As you feel both of their knots begin to swell, a sharp wail of pain escapes from your throat as your eyes begin to close as your already stretched walls begin to stretch even further. Their pace becomes heavy and slow, thrusting so deep and hard that you swear you can taste their cocks as they thrust. The powerful movements of their hips cause their knots to press against your entrance, thick, knotted bulges threatening to penetrate you as they move. Suddenly you scream loudly, your back arching violently as part of their knots are pushed into your vagina.

"O-oh God, Alpha, that hurts. You're going to tear me apart." A mixture of pain and pleasure runs through you as another inch of their swollen flesh enters you.

"You can take this." Hongjoong growls in response.

"Your body has been made for us, my little bunny. You will take mommy and daddy's knot and thank us. Just like a good obedient slut should do when her masters tie her pussy." Seonghwa continues.

"Please..." You beg hoarsely, your voice straining against your sore throat, both because you were screaming and because Hongjoong's cock roughly fucked it earlier.

Both Alphas continue to pound into you, and suddenly you feel Hongjoong pressing harder against your cervix, your eyes widening as he presses against the tight groove, trying to push his knot into you.

"No! No... Alpha, please. I can't... Daddy don't..." You whimper, but all words die on your lips as you suddenly feel the head of his cock opening up your cervix, soft flesh enveloping the head of Hongjoong's cock as he somehow manages to push his knot into you.

Squealing in euphoria, jolts of pain coursing through your body as your cervix and cunt open up around the Alpha's monster cock, you suddenly fall over the edge of pleasure as your orgasm ricochets through you. Hongjoong's knot is already inside you, and Seonghwa slams his hips into you extra hard, forcing the rest of his own knot into you. With both of their knots safely inside you and the head of Hongjoong's cock still pressed against the opening of your cervix, your eyes roll back in your head as you cum furiously. Your whole body is shaking in convulsions, your toes curling up, the silky walls clenching in a vice around their members, and you are crying from how painful and delicious it is at the same time. Before their cocks swell, throbbing furiously as they begin to cum simultaneously, a dark, animal growl is the only sound you hear. Thick, hot sperm flows into you in viscous streams. Through the hazy haze of orgasm, you feel their warmth filling your insides. It paints your complexion white with their essence.

"You are mine, little bunny." Seonghwa's voice is like the song of an angel, luring you into the depths of hell. His gorgeous, sensual lips stretch across your skin, revealing sharp fangs. A second later, they dig into your flesh with such fury and force that your skin tears like a petal, and hot blood fills his mouth and flows down your body.

The pain is blinding; it feels as if your whole body has been immersed in boiling water and then in ice-cold water. The contrast of sensations is so striking that for a second you forget how to breathe. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your eyes roll back into the back of your head, and your body freezes in place as if it were paralysed. Seonghwa swallows your blood greedily, his tongue flicking over each of the deep bulges that have now been permanently etched into your skin. Hongjoong throws her head back and howls solemnly in praise of her Alpha, a sound echoed by the shrill and deafening howls of the puppies crowded outside the bedroom door.

Simultaneously, your walls tighten around their cocks, your battered pussy milking them for all they're worth. A few long moments later, their sperm is still pouring out with vigour, and your eyes close in helplessness as you take in all that they are giving you. The two knots of their cocks are blocking your entrance; their sperm is unable to pour out of you. Stay safely inside your body. Your belly begins to swell, and your flesh is soaked with their cum. Speechless from all these sensations, you lose all sense of reality and allow the Alphas to do whatever they want to you. It's unlikely that you'll be able to get out any time soon; their thick knots won't loosen up for a while yet, and you can't tell how long it will take—maybe an hour, maybe the whole night. You also know that even after their exit from your body, Seonghwa will fuck you again on his own in order to mate with you again, this time as a legal partner.

Your tiny body is completely broken, your consciousness is lost in a deep, euphoric subspace, and you are completely unaware of what is going on around you. Somehow they manage to change your position; you are lying on your side between them as their bodies wrap around you, and the knots are still swollen and tied up in your pussy. You are still drunk, in a post-orgasmic haze, your chest heaving as it tries to quell the burning sensation in your lungs. Your body is still tense, and you are trembling in the arms of the Alphas.

The Alphas are purring around you, their fingers and lips exploring your skin.

From time to time, Seonghwa moans into your ear in a velvety sound. The Alpha is full and satisfied; he has got what he wanted—his very own sweet bunny. Hongjoong licks the last of the tears from your cheeks, and his claws draw an intricate pattern on your shoulder as you fall asleep.

Through the heavy haze of sleep, you can hear the door to the bedroom open and the soft whispering of voices inside. A mix of different smells hit you, but you couldn't tell them apart, balancing on the edge of dreaming. The bed is sagging under the weight of someone else, as flexible bodies are crawling onto it.

"How could she take you? She's so tiny." There is genuine concern in the voice.

"Can the bunny play with us too?"

"I want to play with the bunny."

"Well, well, my little one, don't worry. The bunny will be able to play with you, and even more, she will play with all of us."

Seonghwa says it in a patronising way next to your ear. His lips linger on the pulsating, blood-red imprint of his teeth on the nape of your neck.

"Take care of her, boys. Bunny has a long night ahead.

Before you fall over the edge into a deep pit of dreams, this is the last you hear. That, and the feeling of several pairs of hot, wet lips as they kiss your naked skin.

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