laughing jack’s worst nightmare

• He is a service dom to the fullest. Will not switch, will not submit.

• However, he isn’t rough.. unless you ask.

• A GOD when it comes to foreplay.

• He can dirty talk you in public, sending pure filth directly into your brain.

• Or form a tendril and touch you inconspicuously under the table, at a meeting with his proxies.

• His favorite thing, though, is making memories of your previous rendezvous play in your head.

• Likes to see how flustered you get while you try to play it off like nothing.

• His dick is similar in shape to one of his tendrils, long, smooth, with a tapered tip.

• Eight inches (20.32 cm) in length, and incredibly girthy at its base (Seven and a half inches/19.05 cm).

• He’s grey-white at the base, slightly darker than the shade on his head, with the tip being an unsaturated blue, and stripes of darker shades run along it horizontally.

• It’s a bit slippery, too, but hey, free lube.

• Prefers to cum inside of you, and when he cums he cums A LOT.

• He only cums once or twice during sex, but has immaculate stamina and can easily go for however long you wish.

• Ideally he wants to make you finish four or fives times before he’s done with you.

• His biggest kink is overstimulation.

• Loves using his tendrils to touch every inch of you.

• And, of course, uses them for double penetration.

• Has a bit of a fetish for seeing one of them stuffed down your throat.

• Slenderman’s main goal during sex is to make you feel good, but he will punish you if he needs to.

• Definitely enjoys a 24/7 dom/sub dynamic.

• Punishments can include edging, orgasm denial, or a chastity belt.

• In all honesty he’d love for you to constantly wear a chastity belt if you were open to it. He’s a control freak.

• He will degrade you if it’s something you’re into, but naturally leans towards praise.

• Absolutely will not let his proxies touch you. He’s a firm believer that they don’t deserve to.

• But he will fuck you in front of them, he likes having them watch.

• Truthfully he likes to see them jealous just as much as he loves to show you off.

• Lastly, he likes receiving oral, but he prefers giving.

"feel good, baby? i know it does." a devilish smile takes over his face, "pretty pussy's telling me everything i need to know."

he has you beneath him, pillows underneath your hips because—as he says—he's a gentleman that way. he has one hand holding your wrists above your head, and the other gripping your hips, keeping you steady as he thrusts into you.

"oh my god, tsumu," you whine, "'m gonna cum!"

"again?" he has the audacity to laugh, "how many is that already?"

instead of answering, another pornographic moan leaves your lips and atsumu somehow thrusts even harder, reaching down to rub your sensitive clit.

"that's it, let 'em know how good my cock feels. you love it, don't you pretty girl?"

your back arches as you get closer and closer to your next release. the pleasure is overwhelming—it has you saying please and more over and over like a goddamn prayer. atsumu swears that he can and will make you feel this good every day, so long as you let him.

"look at you," he says, letting go of your wrists to grip your thigh, adjusting your position to get an even deeper angle, "such a gorgeous girl being such a filthy slut for me."

"only f'you tsumu!"

"that's right, beautiful. all for me."

your moans fill the room as you reach your high, your entire body shaking as atsumu continues pounding into you.

"be a good girl and say thank you," he grips your jaw to to face him, "tell me who made you feel this good."

"you did, tsumu, thank you! thank you s'much!" you whine, eyes wide and sparkling up at your boyfriend.

Suna Rintarou, who loves calling you "pretty girl" or "pretty doll" with a smirk on his face, framing those foxy green eyes that make your knees weak.

Suna Rintarou, who loves it when you sit on his lap; hands on your waist, lowering them to your hips and thighs as his lips fondle yours in a kiss, a kiss that makes you swear you're dreaming until he goes for your neck, biting gently on it.

Suna Rintarou, who loves watching you touching yourself, specially when you think he hasn't come home yet.

Suna Rintarou, who bites his own lips as he starts touching himself too, doing his best to not get caught before entering the room to help you out. He just can't help but wanting to enjoy the view for a few seconds more, feeling his chest heavier with every breath.

Suna Rintarou, who gets off with pictures of you whenever he's alone, but who ends up frustrated because it's nothing compared to what he feels with you.

Suna Rintarou, who would die to film a video of you two during sex, but who always respects your boundaries if you don't want to.

Suna Rintarou, who loves it when you're riding him as much as he loves when you're chest against the mattress, pulling your hips towards him with every thrust.

Suna Rintarou, who loves hearing you moan, but who also loves watching you suck on his fingers with teary eyes.

Suna Rintarou, who's got a thing for choking you as he slams his hips against you; licking his lips, eyes half dazed, and his free hand travelling across your whole body.

Suna Rintarou, who's insanely good at eating you out, doing it not only for your pleasure but for his too, letting you feel the vibrations of his muffled moans against your skin.

Suna Rintarou, who always ends up teasing your entrance with a pair of fingers, mouth on your clit until your legs are trembling around his head.

Suna Rintarou, who touches you in front of a mirror, forcing you to watch how much of a mess you are from even before he fucks you right. He pretty much loves mirror sex.

Suna Rintarou, who makes you ride him and work for yourself as he sits back and enjoys the view with lustful eyes, but who ends up brutally fucking you as he blames you for tempting him so bad with your little whines and pants.

Suna Rintarou, who loves having car sex after a night out together, listening to a playlist you both share until the windows fog up.

Suna Rintarou, who loves it when you tease him. He is addicted to the sensation of desire and tension growing deeper within you and him, making him feel the physical urge to touch you and tease you back.

Suna Rintarou, who places countless kisses all over you in an attempt to show how obsessed he is with everything about you. Kisses and marks are always a must for him. Always.

Suna Rintarou, who wants you to sit on his face. Not hovering. No. Sit. He grips your thighs to make you fully sit, only letting go to touch the rest of your body when you start rocking your hips as you drown in pleasure.

Suna Rintarou, who loves it when you give him head. Even better if he's able to see how you touch yourself in desperation to feel some more stimulation besides his teasing words in between moans and groans.

Suna Rintarou, who fucks you dumb after your long stressful days. "You can't feel stressed if you can't even hold a thought" he says as he excuses himself, adding that he's taking care of you, though he would do it any time you let him.

Suna Rintarou, who never thought he would actually enjoy cock-warming until you tried it once. He refused to let your lips unkissed for longer than a minute, hands wandering all over you as he kept trying to pull you impossibly closer the whole time.

Suna Rintarou, who loves watching you fall apart just by using his hands. He's got all your weak spots memorized, touching you just the right way, fingering you as he presses on your clit with his thumb. Everything just to make you cum like that again and again, lips going from your chest to your lips, even leaving sweet kisses on your forehead too from time to time.

Suna Rintarou, who helps you clean yourself every single time after you both end up exhausted, kissing you softly and leaving loving traces all over you once again before hugging you tight.

Memorabilia Passage.

Daichi sighed as he stepped inside, rolling his stiff shoulders. It had been a long shift, but for once, he got off early. A rare thing. He hadn’t texted her to say he was coming home yet, deciding to surprise her instead. He wondered, sometimes, how she puts up with this. With him.

She’s seven years younger—brighter, livelier. She never complains when he comes home late, never gets upset when he’s too tired to do much more than collapse into bed. She says she understands, and Daichi believes her. But a small, quiet part of him still worries.

He hadn’t been enough for his ex-wife. What if, one day, yn realized she wanted something else too? Someone better? Someone with more time?

His thoughts are interrupted by the faintest sound from upstairs. 

Singing.

Daichi paused mid-step, ears straining. The melody is muffled but unmistakably coming from the bathroom. He listens for a moment, catching the familiar, upbeat tune of some pop song he’s heard her play a hundred times. A slow, tired smile tugged at his lips.

It’s so her.

As he climbed the stairs, his gaze naturally drifted to the photos on the wall—ones that weren’t there a year ago.

Most of them are ridiculous. One of her dramatically posing with oversized sunglasses while he stands beside her, looking unamused. Another of him mid-laugh as she shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. A particularly bad one where he’s half-asleep on the couch, his hair sticking up in all directions, and she’s grinning mischievously beside him, flashing a peace sign.

He had resisted putting them up at first, insisting he wasn’t the kind of guy who decorated like that. But yn had been relentless, playfully dramatic about it—“Daichi, a home without pictures is like a book without words! We need memories on these walls!”—until he finally gave in.

There’s one picture, though, that stands out from the rest.

It’s not goofy or silly. It’s beautiful. A candid shot of them at sunset, his arms loosely draped over her shoulder as she leans into him, both of them looking at each other with quiet, unspoken affection.

Daichi lingered on it for a second, his fingers grazing the frame, before shaking his head, amused. He still doesn’t know when she had that printed, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

Shaking off the thoughts, he continues down the hall toward their bedroom. The en suite bathroom door is cracked open just enough for steam to curl out.

He stepped inside, reaching up to loosen his tie, tugging it off with a quiet sigh. He tossed it onto the nearby chair before sitting down at the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

And he waits.

Fifteen minutes passed, and just when Daichi let his eyes drift shut, the bathroom door creaked open. Yn stepped out, completely unaware of his presence.

He glanced up, seeing her wearing one of his T-shirts—the infamous one. It had “Coffee Addict” written in bold, obnoxious letters, with an explosion of printed coffee mugs across it. She and Asahi had mocked him relentlessly for owning it, calling it a ‘cringe dad shirt’, and yet, here she was, practically swallowed by the fabric, looking entirely too cute for someone wearing something so ridiculous.

She was mid-verse in whatever song she had been belting before, until she saw him.

“And I’m a real hot bitch—GAH!”

Yn let out a startled yelp, clutching a hand to her chest. “Daichi… You scared me! What are you doing home so early?”

He straightened up, suppressing a smirk at her flustered expression. “Work ended early. Figured I’d catch you before you went to sleep.”

Her brows pinched together in concern. “Wait… Why? Did something happen?”

Daichi chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing bad. We just wrapped a case up earlier than expected.”

Before she could say anything else, he moved.

He reached for her, arms wrapping securely around her waist, pulling her close until there was no space left between them. His face found the crook of her neck, pressing against her damp skin, breathing her in—the lingering scent of soap and the familiar warmth of her.

“Missed you,” he murmured.

She melted into him, a quiet chuckle escaping her lips as her arms draped over his shoulders. Her fingers traced slow, absentminded circles against his back.

“I missed you too,” she whispered, tilting her head just enough to press a soft kiss against his temple.

Daichi exhaled, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

It was ridiculous, how much this—her, standing here in his clothes, singing without a second thought because she felt at home, clinging to him without hesitation—meant.

How easily she made his world feel lighter.

He knew the insecurity was there. He had picked it apart, reasoned with it, pushed it aside. But some nights, it still crept back in. The late hours, the years between them, the nagging thought that he was asking too much of her by needing her love. That, like before, his absence might drive her away. But yn… she never made him feel like he had to earn her choice to stay.

She just loved him. Loudly. Dramatically. Unapologetically.

And damn if he didn’t love her just as much.

He leaned back slightly, his fingers brushing a damp strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Her brow arched. “Make what up to me?”

He smiled. “Let’s have pizza night. Your choice of toppings. And you can pick the movie.”

That was all it took.

Her entire face lit up like he’d just handed her a basket of puppies. “Wait, seriously? We’re having a home date?” Then, she gasped dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “No sudden work calls or anything? Because I swear, once we do this, I’m not letting you go. No take-backs.”

Daichi let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I promise. I’m all yours for the night.”

For life, even.

She beamed at him and something about that smile squeezed at his heart.

He had never met anyone who felt as much as yn did. Who lived every moment with everything she had. Even something as small as a last-minute pizza and movie night was important to her.

And he was the one who got to give her those moments.

Without warning, yn lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck again. “Okay! I’ll order while you shower!”

Daichi chuckled, already pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to her. “Go ahead.”

But just as she took it, he tilted his head slightly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “And then, we can snuggle up on the couch, watch whatever, and I’ll even generously praise your completely in-tune, flawless singing.”

Yn gasped, scandalized. “You jerk!” She playfully shoved his shoulder, her eyes narrowing even as amusement danced in them. “I was literally swooning until that last part.”

Daichi laughed, warm and full, easily catching her hand before she could retreat. He gave it a quick squeeze, a silent assurance that he was only teasing—though they both knew he’d never let her live it down.

Her expression softened, as if something unspoken passed between them.

“... Thank you,” she murmured. “I know you’re tired, and I really appreciate you making time for me.”

For a moment, Daichi could only look at her.

How was it possible for someone to be so much?

Stepping closer again, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Then, with a small smile, he whispered. “I’d be an idiot to pass up a chance to spend time with you.”

And then, lower, quieter. “You’re worth more than a few lost hours of sleep.”

Her expression faltered for a second, like she hadn’t been expecting that.

Then, he caught it—the faintest flush creeping up her neck, the way her fingers curled just a little tighter around his.

With a huff that didn’t quite hide the way her lips wobbled between a pout and a smile, she smacked his arm. “Ugh, now you’re making me swoon for real.”

“Good.” He laughed, dodging the next half-hearted swat before finally making his way to the bathroom.

His grin lingered as he shut the door behind him, her warmth still ghosting over his skin.

But as he turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray, his smile softened, thoughts shifting.

At first, he’d been hesitant to ask her to live with him. Not because he didn’t want it—god, he had wanted it—but because part of him had worried. That, maybe, he was asking too much from someone so full of energy and life when he was just... him. A man who worked too much, came home too late, and sometimes got too lost in his own thoughts.

His gaze drifted to the shower shelf, where bottles and containers now crowded the once-empty space. Floral-scented body wash, half-melted bath bombs, essential oils—things he would’ve never thought to buy on his own. Before it was just one shampoo, one soap. Simple.

It reminded him of the first time he had shared a home with someone. His ex-wife had been like him in many ways—level-headed, practical, never one for excess. Yet, somehow, they had struggled to share space. Their things didn’t quite fit together, forcing them to store away or sacrifice belongings, leaving bits of themselves behind to make room for each other.

With yn, it was different.

Her presence filled the space, but never overtook it. Her things sat beside his, not in place of them. She didn’t push him to the side; she simply fit. Like she belonged with him.

Maybe that was what scared him most about this. How easy it was. How natural it felt to build a life with her.

His ex-wife had been a good person—kind, understanding, someone he had once loved deeply. But love alone hadn’t been enough. Their relationship had been careful. Each step measured, every compromise weighed. They had done their best to meet in the middle, but in doing so, they had spent more time adjusting to each other than actually growing together.

That was why, in the end, they had fallen apart.

They worked so hard to fit that they didn’t move forward. Their life together had settled into something rigid—stable but unyielding. Until, finally, one of them broke. She had been the one to step outside of their marriage first. And while the betrayal had left a deep wound, maybe what hurt the most was realizing it hadn’t been out of malice. She had just been tired of waiting for things to feel right.

With yn, it wasn’t about adjusting. He never felt like he had to shrink himself down or stretch himself thin. There was no quiet tally of sacrifices, no careful negotiation of space. She didn’t make room for him—she pulled him forward, challenged him, made him want more. Not just for them, but for himself.

And maybe that was the difference. He had once believed love was about learning to fit into each other’s lives. That was important, but it shouldn’t just be that. It’s also building something greater than the sum of its parts.

With that thought, he shut off the water and reached for a towel.

By the time he made it to the living room, yn had already dimmed the lights, set up a cozy blanket nest, and, of course, picked out one of her so-bad-it’s-good movies.

Daichi barely sat down before she plopped into his side, curling up against him like she belonged there.

“Alright, alright, what cinematic masterpiece do you have in store for me tonight?” he asked, eyeing the screen with playful suspicion.

Yn raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Excuse me, but this is a cult classic. You are about to witness peak cinema.”

Daichi glanced at the title. “Zombie Cheerleaders from Outer Space?”

Yn beamed. “Iconic.”

Daichi huffed a laugh, shaking his head as she pressed play.

As expected, the movie was awful. The plot made no sense, the acting was wooden, and the special effects were so bad they were almost impressive.

Daichi made a dry comment about the main character’s questionable survival instincts and yn, ever the movie’s biggest defender, scolded him. “Hush! You’re thinking too hard. This isn’t about logic.”

“Oh? Then what is it about?” he asked, amused.

She gestured vaguely at the screen. “It’s about the experience, Daichi. You don’t analyze—you turn off your brain, embrace the nonsense, and just vibe.”

“The man just watched his best friend get eaten and then immediately flirted with a zombie cheerleader. How am I supposed to vibe with that?”

“You just do,” she said sagely, as if that explained everything. Then, with a pointed look, she added, “And I don’t judge you when you put on those slow crime dramas where everyone just broods and stares at walls for five minutes straight.”

Daichi scoffed. “That’s called building suspense.”

“Yeah? Well, this is called fun.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, but didn’t argue further. Not when yn was grinning up at him like that.

They continued watching, sharing bites of pizza, making snarky comments, and letting laughter fill the room.

And then, somewhere between the cheesy dialogue and the ridiculous plot twists, Daichi felt the words rising in his chest. The ones he’d been holding back for weeks.

“... Hey, yn?”

“Hm?” she hummed, head resting on his shoulder, half-asleep from their cozy position.

He hesitated, then exhaled. “Do you ever think… you want more than this?”

Yn blinked, sitting up slightly to look at him. “More than what?”

“... Me?”

Her brows furrowed, her playful energy immediately shifting into something softer. “Daichi…”

“I mean it,” he continued, his voice quiet. “I know I work late. I know I miss things sometimes. And I know I’m older than you—”

“Okay, pause,” yn said, cutting him off with a firm shake of her head. “First of all, rude. Thirty-five is not ancient, Daichi.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, but yn wasn’t finished. She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

“And second, of course I get lonely sometimes. But I also knew what I was getting into, and I still chose this.” She shrugged, as if it were obvious. “I mean, I could’ve held out for a rich prince with a yacht, but here I am, dating a police officer with back pain.”

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m serious here.”

“And I’m not?” yn asked with a raised brow. She brought their joint hands to her lips, pressing a kiss there. “I don’t need perfect, Daichi. I just want you. The man who always tries, even when he’s exhausted. The man who makes time for me, even when his schedule sucks. The man who puts up with my excellent taste in movies—”

“Debatable,” he teased.

Yn laughed and pinched his cheek. “The man who beats himself up, overthinking things just to make me happy.” She let go and patted his cheek affectionately, her gaze steady and unwavering. “If you’re worried that I’ll get tired of you, then stop. I want to be here.”

Daichi wanted to believe her. He really did. But he’d thought he’d heard those words before—I want to be with you. I love you. And yet, love hadn’t been enough. 

How could this be different?

His grip on her hand tightened slightly, as if testing if she was still there.

And it was like yn knew. She always did.

She leaned in, close enough that he could feel her warmth, grounding him in the moment.

“Listen, I can’t promise you forever.”

He blinked at her, startled.

She squeezed his hand, steady and sure. “Not because I don’t want to. But because promises are just words, and I know no matter how many times I say I’ll stay, it won’t mean anything until I prove it to you.”

Then, just like that, the playful glint returned to her eyes. She pulled back slightly, lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “And I will show you. I’ve stuck around for a year, what’s a few more? Guess you’ll just have to stick around and see for yourself.”

For a moment, all he could do was stare at her.

And then, suddenly, it hit him.

This wasn’t a reassurance—it was a challenge. One he wanted to take.

Because the truth was, he wanted to see it. He wanted to wake up a year from now, five years from now, ten, and still find her there. And in that moment, he knew this was it.

Forever wasn’t about who stayed the longest. It wasn’t measured in years or the time spent together. It was in the depth of the connection, the quiet choices made every day, the intention to make something last.

And she just defined it for him.

It wasn’t a guarantee—it was an aspiration. A commitment born from longing, from a simple but powerful desire to build something meaningful.

And that was how he knew. It’s different.

Something in his chest loosened, the last bit of doubt dissolving in the warmth of her words.

“... Thank you.”

“Anytime, officer.”

They sat there for a moment, the movie long forgotten.

Then with a teasing lilt to her voice, yn nudged him. “Now, tell me. Who’s been putting these silly thoughts in your head, huh?”

Daichi chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close again. “No one important.”

Satisfied with that answer, yn snuggled back into his side. “Good. Now, shh. The zombie cheerleader just confessed her love. This is a pivotal moment.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet. Because in a way, this was also a pivotal moment.

Later, as they cleaned up, yn was rambling about something when she casually mentioned, “Oh, by the way, I’m never stepping foot in the garage again.”

Daichi froze mid-motion.

“... What?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I tried cleaning it earlier, but I keep hearing these weird noises. I swear it's haunted. So, congrats—you’re officially in charge of garage duty.”

Daichi exhaled discreetly, masking his relief with a casual nod. “Yeah, sure, I got it.”

Because tucked away in that garage, hidden in a small box, was an engagement ring.

You’d had a long day — the kind that left your shoulders knotted and your thoughts tangled. Daichi had seen it the moment you walked through the door. He hadn’t said much then, just gave that steady look of his before running the water for you, checking the temperature, and telling you to “relax before you fall over.”

You thought he’d gone back to the living room. But a few minutes later, you felt him behind you — the sound of his quiet steps, the faint creak of the floor.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “You doing alright?”

You smiled faintly, eyes still closed. “Getting there.”

There was a pause, then the soft rustle of fabric as he sat down beside the tub, resting his arms on the edge. He studied you for a moment — the way your hair stuck to your skin, how the water glimmered against your collarbones. When he finally spoke, his voice had dropped to that quiet, possessive tone he only used when he was worried.

“You push yourself too hard.”

You opened your eyes, finding his gaze steady on you. “I’m fine, Daichi.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a wet strand of hair behind your ear, “that’s what you always say.”

His hand lingered at the side of your neck, thumb brushing over your pulse. You could feel his protective energy radiating through that single touch — that need he had to take care of you, to make sure no one and nothing hurt you.

“You’re mine to take care of,” he said quietly. Not a command, not even really a statement — more like a truth he’d been holding in.

You felt your cheeks warm, and before you could answer, he dipped his fingers into the water and gently poured it over your shoulders, washing away the day’s heaviness. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone,” he murmured. “Let me take some of it.”

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes again. His fingers traced lazy circles over your skin, not in hunger but in comfort — a quiet promise that you were safe here, with him.

The room was silent except for the faint splash of water and the sound of his steady breathing. He leaned in then, resting his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he said, “when you finally let yourself rest.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Only because you make it easy.”

He chuckled, the sound low and tender. “Good. Then I’m doing my job right.”

your cunt fucking throbs as his words soak into your bones and muscles like honey, sliding down your arched spine and pooling in your abdomen.

and this, this euphoric feeling that's lighting up every nerve ending from head to toe—

this is why.

you breathe in slowly, lips parting of their own accord as he presses down on the center of your bottom lip. "am i?"

"yeah." his lips brush against your temple as he slides his pointer and middle fingers into your mouth, his other hand rubbing the bare skin along the small of your back when you automatically take the digits deeper. "just a little longer."

he groans softly when you begin to suck on his fingers, free hand sliding up your side to play with your peaked, sensitive nipples. drool slips out past your lips and drips down your chin as you sloppily bob on the digits, lapping and them and moaning.

daichi cups the back of your head, his hips rolling upward just enough to make you choke out a muffled sob around his spit-soaked fingers while he murmurs, "good girl. just like that."

your thighs feel like they're on fire, your lungs burn.

he takes his fingers away, and you whimper, only for it to be cut off by his messy, rough kiss against your slick, wet lips.

he grasps your hips, and he's moving so slowly—

your tight walls clench.

a tear slips down your cheek.

he's barely moving, barely fucking up into your wet, needy pussy, but—

"i'm sorry—" you whine, pleasure cresting hot and fast in your belly.

daichi's mouth slides against yours. "you're so wet. i want you to come for me now. can you do that?"

you hiccup out a sob that dissolves into a moan of pleasure, nodding as he brushes the tears from your cheeks just before his hips start thrusting upward with a force that has you seeing stars.

"come on my cock, go ahead," daichi exhales as you cry out his name.

when your climax hits you, it's sudden and all-encompassing, pleasure gushing out of you in waves that feel like they're never going to stop as you shake hard, more tears falling down your cheeks.

While his eyes browsed the board overhead, you took a moment to admire him. Daichi stopped by the cafe you worked at nearly every morning for a coffee. He’d often get whatever was the special, and he’d always ask you about them, even though they were promoted on every single sign in and outside of the cafe. Perhaps you let yourself believe he enjoyed talking to you.

“They are!” you confirmed. “I had the white chocolate one already, and I must say, it reawakened the Christmas spirit in me.”

Daichi nodded along while tapping his credit card mindlessly on the wooden counter, until he realised you were waiting for a response. “Ah- that sounds great! Two, please.”

You nodded, silently finishing it up at the register so he could pay while you moved away to finish the order.

As you placed the coffees on the counter, Daichi was already there to brush his hands over yours as he took them, smiling with that soft look in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“Here you go, officer.”

“Thank you, I hope you have a great day,” he said, taking a breath at the end as if preparing to say something more, only for nothing to come.

“You too,” was all you got to say before another customer tapped the bell by the register, making your eye twitch as you could obviously see them.

Daichi left, once again, without either of you saying anything more than the usual.

“I know what you want for Christmas.”

You turned to face your coworker, baffled by the intrusion on your daydreaming. “What?”

“That cop, why don’t you just… I don’t know, do something about it?”

Switching momentarily between expressions of insult and thoughtfulness, you weren’t quite sure how to feel about that suggestion. “He probably doesn’t-”

“He does.” You blinked in surprise, pointing to your chest with your pointer finger. “Yes, he likes you. I don’t think his cheeks are always that red.”

“It’s probably from the cold,” you argued with a huff and shook your head, also cleaning the counter properly after the new guy spilt something earlier.

“And it’s been from the cold ever since August, I guess?”

With a stern look that made her drop it, you took the finished coffee from her and walked towards the seating to deliver it. However, the conversation kept resurfacing in your mind.

What if there was something there and you were both just too respectful and professional to do anything about it?

“Fine,” you burst out hours later, startling your coworker, who was also getting her bag so the two of you could leave after finishing the morning shift. “I’ll write something on his cup tomorrow, make the first move.”

The excitement on your coworker’s face gave you a sense that this would be entertainment for her, no matter how it went for you.

The morning after, you smiled widely as Officer Sawamura was once again there right on time.

“I’m glad you were working today,” he said, and you were lucky to recover quickly enough from his change in script. In return, you did an unnecessarily flamboyant curtsy.

“At your service.” The two of you laughed softly, both a little tired from the early morning. “Another long day ahead of you, I presume?”

“You know it,” he said, as usual. “Could you make it a double espresso today? Something with chocolate, I trust your tastes. And two, please.”

“You got it!” You nodded happily, fixing everything at the register before moving to make his coffee, heart beating a mile per minute at the thought of making a move after so long of dancing around the same conversations every day.

After finishing both coffees, you glanced over your shoulder to find Daichi checking his phone, then looked back at the cup in your hand. You proceed to pick up the marker, using your mouth to take off the cap before letting a small piece of your heart take the lead and write on it.

All morning, you’d brainstormed what to write on the cup, from stupid, cheesy pick-up lines to the simplest things that could be easily overlooked.

Let’s grab some coffee after work next time? you wrote, adding two hearts layered over each other, one a full line and the other stippled.

With a somewhat nervous smile, you set the cups down in front of him, glancing between the cup with writing on it and Daichi’s face. Now that you had time to look at him again, he looked kind of nervous, too, but that must have been your imagination, you thought.

“There you go. I hope you have a great day today,” you told him kindly, hands tucked behind your back while you swayed to calm your nerves. Daichi, however, wasn’t doing so well with that.

“I never really have the time to talk, but…”

The way your face softened when you listened made him stutter over his words, suddenly questioning his approach.

“Maybe, do you have? Any time to talk, I mean. Not now, but another day? With me.”

Your mouth was open in surprise, trying desperately to figure out the order of Daichi’s words like it was the Christmas puzzle of a milk carton. “With you? Yes, I-”

Then your eyes went to the cup in his hand and the way the hearts wrapped around where he held it. Eyes widening, you suddenly couldn’t find the order of your own words.

“I was actually- never mind that! We could- Yes! Over coffee? There’s more time to talk after work… I’ll just take this…”

“After work is good- oh, the cup? I’m sure it’s perfect, you always make the best coffee…”

The two of you both fumbled over your breaths as you nervously reached for the cup you had written on, shamefully turning it so he could see. “I just thought I’d make the first move, but then you did, and if this is the second move, I’d rather write something else,” you rambled before slapping a hand over your face to hide how much it had reddened over the course of a few seconds.

“Thank you,” Daichi finally said, his deep voice somewhat back to its usual sturdiness along with that calming laugh. “I fumbled the first move, so I’ll use yours.”

“What do you mean?”

His hand wrapped around yours, which was still holding the cup with the writing on it, and turned it to face you. “Let’s grab some coffee after work next time, is what I wanted to say.”

Your coworker was not disappointed with today’s entertainment, watching you both make the first move. And you did get what you wanted for Christmas.

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