#dom!johnny

the beat of the club fills your chest as the crowd sways along to the music. you nod along, enjoying your people watching from your spot next to johnny at your groups shared booth. since meeting johnny, you had gotten to get to know some of his fellow members and their romantic partners fairly well, enjoying many group hangouts and meals together. it was always enjoyable getting to know his members and brothers better as well as their partners whenever you all went out. it honestly made you feel like an important part of his life to be able to meet his second family.

currently, you were in the middle of a deep conversation with mark and his girlfriend over the best ice cream flavor. “dude, you literally can’t go into a store and willingly choose cherry garcia as your first option to eat when cookies and cream, aka the best flavor in the world, is literally right there.” mark babbles, words slurring slightly from the alcohol in his system.

you laugh at the unseriousness of the conversation, sipping and finishing your third drink of the night. “i’m sorry we’re not children, mark.” you shrug, his girlfriend nodding in agreement.

“we just have a mature palette! we aren’t easily entertained by boring shit like that.” she chirps, both of you laughing at marks drunken disbelief as he hangs his head in defeat. johnny smiles softly as he watches you bond with his best friend, hand softly running over you waist.

“another drink, honey? want some water?” he asks, kissing your shoulder sweetly. “you feeling alright?” he asks, checking in with you.

you turn your head to look at him, nodding softly. “m’ okay!” you respond, letting mark and his partner get deep into a new silly debate topic. you feel yourself sway slightly as the contents of your third drink in an hour begin to catch up with you. “wanna dance?” you ask, slurring your words slightly as you watch some of his fellow members move on the dance floor.

before johnny can even consider what you’ve asked or respond, the club dj has the brightest idea to put on what may be the worst possible song when a pretty girl who likes to show off to her boyfriend is drunk.

“LISTEN TO THIS TRACK, BITCH!” blares across the speakers, activating both you and marks girlfriend like sleeper agents and causing you to shoot up in your seats. the intro beat of no hands fills the clubs followed by many cheers and whoops. you both lock eyes, knowing exactly what needs to be done. you both lock hands, sprinting away from the booth before either of your men can complain or get up to follow. you both join the rest of the group including haechan, jungwoo, and yuta who were all completely sloshed out of their minds and bumping to the beat.

now, most of the time, you were a very modest and respectful girl. you never showed too much skin, always acted fairly calm and polite. very mindful, very demure. but all bets were immediately off the second anyone chooses to play waka flocka flame. and what normal person decides to not shake ass and move when that happens? nobody, exactly.

you dance next to your friends, head swimming from the alcohol and oozing pure sex appeal. you laugh and smile with your fellow girls as you dance your heart out, not caring who sees or cares. you feel your hand get grabbed by yuta’s girlfriend, raising it up for you to twirl. “shake some ass, bitch!” she encourages, the fellow girls cheering in excitement and hyping you up. you smile at the encouragement, turning towards the nearest surface to begin bending over before being suddenly stopped by a large hand on your waist.

oh yeah, maybe johnny wasn’t necessarily going to love that.

“sorry girls.” he intervenes, pulling you up and close to him as your fellow girl friends boo him. “i’m gonna get her some water, she’s had a lot.” he reasons, putting his free hand up in surrender.

he pulls you away quickly and firmly, hands tugging down the hem of your minidress to cover your ass fully. “wanna explain to me where that came from?” he asked, tone sounding slightly annoyed as he brought you back to the now empty booth to sit. he handed you a water bottle, “drink.” he commanded.

you felt a tinge of annoyance and anger in your gut as johnny slightly scolded you for having fun with your friends. “i can’t dance?” you ask, head tilting to the side and eyebrows knitting together over dramatically from the liquor. you stubbornly ignored the water, not wanting to give johnny the satisfaction of successfully telling you what to do like a bratty child.

“i never said that. but i don’t really love the idea of the entire club getting to have a peek at what’s mine.” he stated, “i don’t like watching other guys stare and what should only be for me. don’t like you just running off whenever you feel like it, either.” johnny reminds, his hand coming to rest on your thigh firmly.

“hmmm.” you hum, still feeling irritated by johnnys possessiveness over you. “what if i want the other men to stare?” you shoot back, a sly grin painting your lips. “what if i like showing others what they can’t have?” you tease, moving closer to johnny and pressing up against his side.

“then i would have to remind you who all that belongs to.” johnny quipped, eyes locking with yours intensely. you held the eye contact as best as your drunken self could, your drunken ego far too large to back down now. “you’re a little fucking brat sometimes, you know that?” he spat, annoyance lacing his tone.

“i don’t really care.” you slur, shrugging slightly. “i get to do whatever i like at the end of the day.” you hum, smiling to yourself as a feeling of pride for shutting your boyfriend up filled your chest.

“yeah?” he asks.

“yup.” you respond, popping the p sound as a smug look covers your face.

that pride was quick to leave as you felt a large hand firmly grip your wrist and begin to pull you up and away from the booth. you stumbled behind him slightly as johnny effortlessly moved through the crowd. you did your best to keep up, apologizing to anyone you accidentally bump into in the process. when you’re finally pulled out of the forest of people, you’re both met with a door down a hall slightly away from the rest of the crowd. johnny pulls it open, tugging you inside before shutting and locking it quickly. “dude, what the fuck!” you exclaim, getting ready to drunkenly bitch at johnny before suddenly being cut off by his lips on yours.

you make a small sound at the suddenness of it all, letting your boyfriend kiss you deeply as his strong hands grip your ass firmly. you feel his tongue enter your mouth, completely dominating the kiss and quickly overwhelming you. you take the sudden break for johnny to begin marking up your neck as a mini miracle as your chest heaves for air.

“j-john- baby- ah!” you whine, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the feeling of your boyfriend harshly marking up one of the most sensitive areas on your body. “ah~ we c-cant!” you protest, trying to convince johnny to save it for your shared apartment but to no avail.

he ignores your pleas, his hand coming down to yank up the tiny hem of your dress and pull your panties to the side, exposing your leaking cunt. you hiss at the feeling of cool air brushing against your twitching core as one of your hands travels down to grab johnnys wrist in an attempt to get him to calm down. “johnny, baby. let’s go home first..” you beg, your words still slurring slightly.

your hand was quickly swatted away by your boyfriend, causing you to whine even more before moaning softly at the feeling of johnnys rough fingertips rubbing your clit. you felt yourself melt inside a little, thighs twitching slightly as one of his fingers moved south to slowly enter you. you groaned at the intrusion, immediately loving the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriends large fingers. “there’s my girl.” you hear him tease in a deep, intoxicating voice. you can’t help but moan at the shiver it sends down your spine as you watch him add another finger. you let out a small yelp, trying to squish your soft thighs around his hand to get some sort of relief with no success.

“uh uh.” johnny shakes his head, prying your legs back apart as he begins to gain a rhythm in his two fingers, fucking you steadily. “gonna sit here like a good slut for me and take it, yeah? since you wanna act like a slutty girl it seems like i’m gonna have to treat you like one.” he says, grinding his palm down against your clit as he works his fingers into you for extra stimulation.

you moan at the pure obscenity of it all from the dirty sounds and dirtier words all the way down to the view of johnny’s strong hand between your thighs with your dress pulled up for easy access. “thought you were gonna wear this around me and not get fucked? silly girl.” he torments, his tone dark and taunting as he continues to work his fingers deep into your cunt. you can’t help but whine at johnny’s words as you feel a familiar heat in your belly begin to pool from the stimulation.

“please…” you beg, already sounding needy as you begin to slip into your subspace. you hold intense eye contact with him as he drills his fingers deeper inside of you, filling the bathroom with wet noises from your leaking cunt.

“please what? i kinda need some direction here, doll.” johnny teases, smiling evilly at your inability to form a proper sentence as he abuses your hole with his fingers. he pulls the two digits out of your twitching pussy, immediately forcing them into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. you let out a noise at the intrusion, sucking on the two fingers and running your tongue over them as you hold your eye contact with johnny.

you moan obscenely around the fingers, your brain completely fogged over from the intense pleasure and alcohol swarming in your head. the fingers are quick to be pulled away before you feel johnny pushing you down to your knees on the bathroom floor. you immediately feel a large hand in your hair tugging your head back to look up at your boyfriend. you felt your mouth begin to water as you watch him quickly unbutton his pants, pulling them down just enough to pull out his leaking cock. you go nearly cross eyed as the sight of the huge length in front of you, your instincts screaming at you to lean forward and take johnny all the way down your throat.

you’re greeted with the sweet sounds of johnnys groans as you take the tip into your mouth, running your tongue along the slit as you tease him carefully. “fuckin’ brat.” you hear him grunt before he’s roughly gripping your hair and forcing his cock all the way into your mouth. you instantly gag around the length, wanting to pull away but halted from johnny’s firm grip on your head keeping you in place. “uh uh.” he taunts, thrusting his cock down your throat, “gonna take this like the cheap fuckin’ slut you are.” johnny growls as he sets a ruthless pace.

“there we go.” johnny hums, his head falling back to look up at the ceiling as he uses your mouth like a sex toy, ruthlessly thrusting in and out of your mouth. you moan around the length, your eyes completely filled with tears that spilled over your cheeks, completely ruining your eye makeup. you end up reaching down into your ruined panties, rubbing your soaked clit for some sort of relief as you allowed your throat to get completely wrecked for your boyfriends pleasure.

“you just don’t wanna be good tonight, huh?” johnny interrupts, suddenly pulling out and holding your head up from his grip on your hair in the makeshift ponytail he was holding it in. he immediately tugged you up to your feet, smacking your ass harshly. you jump at the feeling, moaning softly at the sharp pain. he quickly and easily manhandles you over the nearby sink counter, pushing your chest down so you were bent over in front of him. “you really must’ve been trying to kill me wearing something like this, baby.” he chuckles, pulling the hem of your dress up to bunch it around your waist. “almost fucked you right there in the living room when i saw you.”

you moan at the praise, your brain going completely dumb from the arousal and alcohol swimming inside your system. you let out a little squeak at the feeling of johnny pulling your panties down your legs, not even bothering to take them all the way off before rubbing two fingers along your soaked slit. “fucking hell, baby. didn’t know me treating you like a slut would get you this worked up. maybe it’s your true colors showing, hm?” he teases further. you shake your head, trying to find the words to protest but being at a complete loss. “don’t lie, you fucking love it.” johnny taunts as he lines himself up behind you.

you feel all the air being punched out of your lungs as johnny fully slides into your leaking cunt in one swift motion, completely filling you up. “f-fuckkk~” is all you can moan out as johnny sets a ruthless pace, fucking you deeply and quickly. you arch your back further, pushing yourself back onto johnnys cock trying to chase more of his embrace. you feel his large hands come down to grip your hips tightly, definitely tight enough to leave noticeable bruises in the morning. “j-johnny, baby- fuck!” you cry out, your moans sounding strained as you get only louder.

“there we go. take it just like that.” johnny groans as he drills into your soaking cunt, filling the bathroom with the clapping sounds of his hips slamming against your ass. you feel him reach down to grab one of your legs from behind the knee and lift it up to rest it on the counter, fucking you even deeper and driving you impossibly crazier. you’re practically yelling now as your boyfriend completely abuses your pussy. “love this fuckin’ pussy, baby. all good just for me, yeah?” he praises, bringing a firm hand down to slap your ass hard enough to leave stinging red marks.

“y-yessss..!” you cried out as your eyes rolled back from the pleasure of being drilled into. again, you felt the pleasure you were feeling begin to build in your lower tummy, causing you to get even louder. “c-close, baby..” you choked out between broken moans as johnnys cock completely filled you.

“yeah? gonna cum on this cock?” johnny quipped back. “gonna let everyone know how good this dick makes you feel?” he hummed, leaning in closer to drape his long torso over your body. “cmon, give them a show. it’s what you wanted, right?” johnny degrades further, only making your brain go even foggier as he completely wrecks your pussy.

you feel your pleasure getting closer and hotter before johnny suddenly halts his thrusts, causing you to make a sound of confusion. “baby-“ you start, trying to turn around to face johnny before you feel a firm hand gripping your hair and tugging you up. you let out a gasp as your back is pressed flush against johnny’s front, forcing you to look up into the mirror in front of you both and finally get a look at just how wrecked you really were. your makeup had run down your face in dark streaks, making you look completely fucked out with your messy hair.

“look at how fuckin’ pretty my girl is, hm? you see why i don’t like other guys looking at you like this?” johnny says, his hands gripping all over your soft body as he locks eyes with you in the mirror. you nod at the words, completely hypnotized by your boyfriends touch and voice. you open your mouth to reply before being cut off by your own moans at the feeling of johnny’s cock slamming back into you from behind. “watch yourself while you take this fucking cock.” johnny commands, wrapping his strong arm around your neck and pulling you close in a firm chokehold as he fucks into you.

you feel your eyes roll back and moans grow louder at the feeling of your boyfriends cock absolutely destroying you. “johnny..!” you cry out when you feel the tip of his sex press against a familiar spot inside of you. “closeclose…g-gonna cum..” you warned as your entire body began to shake around him.

“cum for me, honey.” johnny begs, reaching his other hand down to rub your puffy clit quickly. “make a mess on this fucking cock, baby.” he groans as the rhythm of his hips finally begins to falter. you let out a loud cry at the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit roughy accompanied by the filthy words.

“f-fuck!” you cry out as entire body shakes with your orgasm ripping through you. you feel tears begin to flow down your cheeks as your climax hits your body in one gigantic wave, making you squeeze around johnnys cock as you squirt all over his hand.

“f-fucking hell, baby..” you hear johnny groan before slamming into you one final time and filling your pussy with his warm cum. “just like that, there we go.” he grunts as his own orgasm wracks through him. the bathroom had now gone quiet, only being filled by the sounds of your panting breaths and soft moans as you both came down from your high. johnny pulls out of you carefully after another few moments, pulling another soft moan from your lips.

after a few more moments of silence, you let out a soft giggle. “i don’t think i can walk. i’m being so serious.” you joke, earning you a light chuckle from johnny.

“yeah, my bad” he replies, tucking himself back into his jeans before helping you up from the counter. “you okay, honey?” he asks, holding you so you can stand and pulling the hem of your dress back down. “sorry i went a little crazy..” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you smile at the affection and care, leaning into the embrace. “m’ okay.” you nod, looking down at your dress before letting out a horrified gasp. “you ripped the lace! johnny!!” you whined, inspecting the now ruined garment. “i actually liked this one!! it was the last one there!” you pouted, knitting your eyebrows together like a little child.

johnny tried to hold his laugh in at your anger, but to no avail. “i’m sorry!” he apologized between chuckles as you slapped his shoulder. “ow!” he exclaims dramatically, grabbing his shoulder, “baby- i’m sorry, i swear!” he laughs, grabbing your hands to stop your physical assault on him. “i’ll talk to jaehyun and see if his designer friends can find a new one.” he assures, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you huff at his response, trying to stay mad but failing greatly due to the affection. “you better.” you mumble, turning to the mirror and trying to somewhat tame your hair. “give me your jacket at least! i’m cold.” you whine again, falling right back into your bratty antics. johnny laughs once more before obliging and pulling his oversized leather coat off, handing it over to you.

you pull the jacket on, thanking god silently that it’s long enough to conceal the ruined hem of your dress. “i wanna go home.” you declare, turning back to johnny. “my legs are sore and i’m hungry.” you declare, still feeling the dull buzz of the liquor you had not even an hour ago.

johnny nods in agreement, taking your hand in his as you both head for the bathroom doo to exit. “tacos?” he offers, earning him a nod from you in agreement.

You suck in a sharp breath as the dots immediately connect. Johnny scoots his chair forward to align his face mere inches from your pelvis, glancing up at you with a sinfully cute expression. Then he flattens his tongue and licks you from perineum to pubic bone and back down.

You sigh at the contact, keeping your eyes trained on your man as he focuses on your entrance with soft upward licks, the vibrator still in his hand hanging at his side.

A moment passes before he pulls back, turns the vibrator on to the lowest setting, and presses it to your throbbing clit. Instinctually, you emit a small groan at the heightened sensation, to which Johnny grins before diving back in to kiss your moist entrance. 

Johnny knows how sensitive you are to this vibrator, and because of your wild reactions to it, he almost expressly uses this one because no other toy brings you greater pleasure than this lil’ Amazon wonder.

After about 30 seconds of hole-kissing, you feel the beginning of an orgasm forming, and you’re definitely soaked now. Johnny starts swirling the vibrator in circles on your clit and with more pressure as he switches to tongue-fucking you, and with the new sensations, you’re pushed even faster to your orgasm.

“Fuck, Johnny,” you moan in an unusually high, light voice, your thighs now trembling at the amazing combo of his stiff tongue and hard wand circles.

And as soon as the words leave your open mouth, Johnny retracts his tongue and slides the vibrator down to your entrance, holding it still.

“It’s too early, baby,” he coos before licking your delicious fluid off his lips.

You quietly groan and throw your head back, but you know you can’t really be sad, as you’d already figured out this was an edging game. “I know, I know.”

In response, Johnny turns the wand upside down so he’s able to lean in and latch his soft lips to your red, hardened clit. You feel him click the vibration intensity to the next level against your hole as he tenderly sucks your clit, periodically kissing it.

Your breathing has sped up, and your orgasm comes screetching back to you with the deeper vibration, and as much as you try, you can’t control your hips hitching up off the seat cushion. So Johnny turns off the wand and reverts back to small clit kisses, barely enough pressure to register on your skin.

With a second orgasm killed, you whimper at the lost pleasure. “Johnny, please,” you beg softly.

But he pulls back completely and meets your hungry eyes. “Baby wants more?”

“Please just fuck me,” you continue, shooting him puppy-dog eyes.

Cocking his head, Johnny mashes his lips into a thin line as if considering your words. “Okay. Only because my sweet girl has been so good to me.” And with that, he stands up and removes his bottom layers to reveal his massive boner standing up at a beautiful angle.

“You want this in you?” he asks with his hands against your breasts.

“Please, baby,” you murmur, eyeing him with a desperate expression.

“Well not yet,” he replies before pulling away and ever so lightly pressing his dick against your slit. “Not yet, sweet girl.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Johnny uses his hips to slowly grind his pink tip up and down your wet pussy, purposely letting it juuuust miss your clit.

“You feel so good, Johnny,” you declare in a breathy voice.

He smirks at you as he stops teasing and instead inserts his tip. “Baby wants my whole dick?”

“Yes,” you reply in an accidentally bratty tone, immediately looking away at the floor.

“Mm, I’ll let that one slide, kitten. But no more freebies,” he says as he brings the wand to your clit, not turned on yet. “Look at me.”

You obey, pursing your lips.

“Good girls don’t get snappy,” he says in a scarily calm tone, keeping his expectant eyes on yours as if waiting for acknowledgment. 

“I won’t do it again,” you shake your head. “I want more.”

Taking in your puppy-dog look again, he nods and clicks the wand onto level one intensity against your clit. “I wanna give you more, baby; but you have to be patient.”

You nod furiously with a small moan, your clit coming back to life with the wonderful vibration. To make it worse for you, Johnny purposely thrusts in and out about an inch at a time, only allowing you his tip.

“Still feel good?”

“Of course, baby,” you answer as your thighs begin trembling again.

The wand goes into level two intensity, but Johnny stops thrusting, holding his soaked tip inside your entrance.

“Fffffffuhhhh...” you sigh, closing your eyes at the pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” Johnny gushes in a velvety voice. Pleased with your improved behavior, he slips in halfway and holds still while pressing the wand with small but tight flicks on your clit.

“Awwwhhhh,” you moan, the feeling of being more filled coaxing more orgasm buildup.

“Good girls get what they want,” he says quietly, almost to himself, before he clicks the vibrator back to level one and slides all the way into your aching warmth.

“Oh God, Johnny,” you groan, gazing at him desperately, begging for motion. Your thighs are trembling again, so he stops the flicking pattern and just holds the wand against you, still remaining fully sheathed.

“Yes, sweet girl?” he murmurs, finally feeling his own arousal taking hold of him.

“Fuck me,” you whisper roughly.

“Mmmm,” he moans lowly as he juts his body even further into yours, his tip hitting your cervix now. “Not yet, baby.”

Then he pulls out and clicks the wand back onto level two. You exhale heavily through your nose, fighting your growing irritation. Third orgasm killed.

Johnny braces a warm palm on your thigh, tracing circles on your clit now, causing you to uncontrollably moan in a high pitch.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweet girl,” Johnny praises you, sliding two fingers into you and straight fucking you. You’re absolutely drenched with arousal, like he’d dumped a cup of lube on you.

“UH-uggghhh,” you groan, mouth ajar and head angled backward again. “So good, Johnny.”

“I know,” he replies, his smirk transcending through his voice. He clicks the vibrator down to level one again but counters it by curling his fingers to feel for your G-spot. Once he does, he pushes the wand deep against your throbbing clit, and you moan another high-pitch fuck.

“So good for me, baby,” he says, stopping his finger thrusting and instead hitting your G-spot relentlessly with his fingertips.

But it’s game-over when you clench hard on his fingers.

So he rapidly withdraws his fingers and pulls the wand forward so it’s just barely touching your clit. You open your eyes to see him sucking his fingers with hooded eyes.

“Johnnyyyyy,” you whisper, trying incredibly hard not to sound bratty. “Pleeease.”

He sighs in response, removing his fingers with a satisfying popping sound and sliding his dick halfway in again. “That’s all you get.”

Fourth orgasm killed. Time to bring out the heavy artillery to win him over now.

“Oh please, baby. Your fingers felt so good,” you bore your big eyes into his as he presses hard circles on your clit.

“I thought you wanted my dick?”

Scared that you just fucked up, you gasp. “No! I mean, yes, I do want that big dick. I’m begging you, Johnny.”

Mimicking you without realizing it, he throws his head back rather dramatically with a sigh before looking back at you.

“Fine. Fuck it. My dick hurts anyway,” he says, his tone veering into that of agitation. He turns off the wand and throws it carelessly onto the breakfast bar beside you, then, as violently as he can, he pounds into you with his hands gripping your ribs on both sides.

“You better cum on me,” he thunders, leaning down against you and keeping his face inches from yours, his cheeks jiggling along with the sheer force he’s using on you.

You’re too deep into O-town to react to his words, but your body does all the talking: your hips convulse against Johnny’s abs pressed against you; your walls clench on him at random intervals and speeds; and your eyes roll back. After four denied climaxes, this is it.

“Goddamn, baby,” he booms, his own pleasure evident in his voice and fingers digging even deeper into your flesh. You make a mental note to check for bruises tomorrow.

And then Johnny releases, wrapping his arms around you almost painfully and hugging you to him with his face buried in your neck, greedily rolling his hips into your sore cervix. 

“OHhhhhh shit, kitten.”

Your orgasm has finally subsided, and you’re breathing like you just ran a full marathon, kissing the top of his head as he rides out his intense pleasure.

“Thank you, Johnny,” you murmur into his hair. “Thank you so much.”

At last, his hips come to a halt, but he doesn’t move anything else, holding your bound body against his. He pulls his head off your neck and smashes his lips into yours without any hesitation.

You don’t remember Johnny drawing the blinds closed the night before, but he must have, because when you wake up, the room is completely dark. You’ll have to ask what brand of blackout curtains he has, because if someone told you it was still nighttime, you’d believe them.

Or, you would, if you didn’t smell the faintest hint of coffee.

Johnny’s side of the bed is empty, but still warm, so he can’t have been up for long. Groaning, you sit up and mentally assess your body. You’re sore all over, the sting on your ass especially prominent, but you relish in the ache. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything like that, so you can’t complain.

You slip out of bed and pad over to the windows, squinting against the dark so you don’t trip and die. You find the control pad on the wall and tap it to turn it on, and then press the button to raise the blinds. The machinery whirs to life, a low hum breaking the silence of the room, and immediately, bright sunlight spills across the floor, blinding you temporarily. You find the blanket Johnny had lent you last night, and wrap it around your shoulders before making your careful way downstairs.

Johnny is in the kitchen, cooking, when you enter. He turns, seeing you out of the corner of his eye, and gives you a bright smile. He’s wearing a cute t-shirt and pajama shorts, and a dumb little blue apron.

“Good morning,” he says. “Would you like some coffee? I washed out the French press.” He nods at it, sitting on the counter. “Coffee is in the cupboard, and cream is in the fridge.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, going to make yourself some. “What are you cooking? It smells nice.”

“Pancakes,” he says. “I hope that’s okay. You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

You laugh. “No, I don’t. Pancakes sound great.”

You slip into a seat, coffee percolating happily in the press, and watch him cook. You can see the lean muscles of his back even through his baby-pink t-shirt, and you watch the movement as he slides some finished pancakes onto a plate, stacking them high.

“Are you busy today?” he asks lightly as he pours more batter into the pan.

“Not terribly,” you say, pressing the coffee grounds down. “I mean, I should probably at least try to get some work done at some point, but there’s no rush. If you need me out of your hair, though, that’s fine.”

He flashes you a grin over his shoulder before turning back to his cooking. “No, please stay,” he says. “I don’t have anything that really needs doing. And I’d love the company.”

“Works for me,” you say, smiling back.

You chat a little as he finishes cooking, and fall into comfortable silence once he brings the food to the table and you start eating. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you take the first bite—the K-bbq from last night seems so far away.

“These are so good,” you tell him when you get your wits about you again. “You definitely downplayed your cooking skills.”

“Oh, thank you,” he says, grinning. “Family recipe. Big secret.” You laugh at him as he wiggles his eyebrows.

You insist on helping him wash up after you’re done eating, clearing the counter and putting things away. When you’re done, he beckons you over, sitting down on one of the stools, and patting the one next to him, where your blanket is still draped where you left it. You obey, a little confused.

“Hey, um,” he begins. “So we should probably talk about last night.” You give him a nervous look, and he waves it off quickly. “No, no, I just—um. We did a lot of things that I didn’t really—ask if they were okay before I did them. I thought about it, but I didn’t want to ruin the mood and—well. It was a little irresponsible of me, so I apologize. I just wanted to make sure that I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Johnny,” you say, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “If I didn’t like it, I would’ve told you so. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t okay with any of it.”

“I figured, I just wanted to check,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “I mean I did—I did call you a slut, which is a word my mother would beat my ass for saying if she knew. And she’s probably right.”

“You’re such an interesting person,” you comment, amused, and he blinks at you, at a loss. “Okay, so for the record—yes, I did like that, so stop worrying. But it’s just so funny to me, that you can be so—well, like that in the bedroom, but still manage to be so like this otherwise.”

“I try my best to be responsible,” he says, laughing a little. “I know I can get intense.”

“Well,” you say, resting your elbow on the counter and your cheek on your palm, “I like intense.”

“Yeah?” He looks at you, mischief now lurking behind his eyes. “I think we should talk about it. I want to know what you’re down for. Because—there’re a lot of things I want to try with you.”

You grin. “Like what?”

“I mean, so obviously you like getting smacked around and choked,” he starts, ticking it off on his fingers. “You like it when I call you a slut, but you also like it when I call you ‘babygirl’, which is fun.” You just smile. “And you like calling me daddy.”

“Mm, yes,” you say, your smile growing. You lean forward a little, scooting your stool closer to his. “But we already knew all that.”

He gives you a warning glance. “I can be very strict,” he prefaces. “I like to get really rough. It’s a system; it’s almost like a game. We make rules, and then if you don’t follow them, there’s consequences.”

“Yeah? What do you have in mind?”

He leans in and gives you a quick kiss. “Well, spanking for attitude. Choking if you still don’t fall in line. Orgasm delay; I’ll tie you up if you touch yourself without my permission. Handcuff you if you touch me without permission.”

“What, like this?” You sneak your hands onto his thighs, gripping lightly, reveling in the feeling of his strong quads beneath your palms.

He’s lifting you up in an instant, hands on your waist. You gasp a little as your ass thuds against the counter. Once you’re settled, he takes your wrists and pins them behind your back. “Yeah, like that,” he hisses. You hum, struggling against his hold just to test it. You’re strong, but he’s stronger.

“Hm,” you say, nonchalant. “Guess you’ll have to punish me, then.”

Johnny gives you an almost exasperated look, and then sighs and lets you go, moving to shuck off his shirt. Curious, you don’t move, choosing to watch him instead. You’re surprised when he twists up the shirt and holds it out. “Okay,” he says. “Hands.” You smile a little and offer him your wrists. Luckily, there’s a lot of t-shirt, so it’s easy for him to double-knot it with plenty to spare. He tugs experimentally, then asks, “Does it feel okay?”

You nod, smile growing, leaning forward into his space. “Green,” you murmur.

“Good.” He gives you the kiss you’re looking for, but deepens it, coaxing you to lean back. You don’t have your hands to support you, but he catches you, big palm braced against your spine. You kiss back, hungry, keeping your bound hands in your lap even though all you want to do is reach out and touch. You’re still hurting from last night, and you have a feeling Johnny will do fine at roughing you up on his own without any antagonizing.

You’re right. A few moments later, he’s lowering you onto your back, and then he stands, pulling your hips forward so he can pull your panties down. His tongue presses to your clit, swiping back and forth and then circling around it before breaking away with a kiss. You reach for him weakly, hands flexing against the t-shirt, an almost involuntary response.

Johnny doesn’t miss it. He slaps your hands, and then points. “Above your head. Keep them there, or you don’t get to come.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, shivering at his tone. You do as you’re told; your arms hang off the other side of the counter just a bit, but you don’t mind. Johnny, much to your relief, goes back to eating you out, pushing a spit-slick finger into your pussy. You sigh, and focus on the monumental task of keeping your hips still.

Johnny adds a second finger, then a third, and then a fourth, barely coming up for breath, his tongue flicking over your clit, sending waves of arousal across your body. He curls his fingers up slightly, and you moan out loud, shaking when he does it again, and again, and again.

He finally gives your clit a break, standing and running his free hand down your side. Goosebumps follow his touch even though you’re still wearing your big t-shirt. He scrunches up the material and pushes it high to expose your chest. His hand comes up to your tits, and he rolls one of your nipples under his thumb, smiling when you gasp. “Feel good, babygirl?” he asks.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “Would feel better if you’d fuck me.”

He releases your chest in favor of taking your jaw in his hand, squeezing against the bone just a little. “Is that how you talk to me?”

“Only if you let me,” you say. He tightens his grip, jostling you a little. “I mean,” you amend, “no.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, leaning in closer. “My little slut doesn’t ever talk like that to me, because she knows what happens if she does, isn’t that right? So that’s ‘no,’ what?”

“No, sir,” you correct, watching him wide-eyed.

“Good girl,” he says, releasing your jaw and standing back up. He pulls his fingers out of your pussy, licking them clean absently while he pulls his shorts down with the other hand. You find that you’re trembling, the ache in your pussy a pleasant reminder of last night, though it’s eclipsed by an overwhelming feeling of need when you realize it’s going to happen again.

Johnny fishes a small packet of lube and a condom out of the pocket of his shorts before casting them aside. You give him a scandalized look.

“Were you planning this?” you ask. Somehow, you can’t quite make your tone accusatory.

He just grins lazily. “I wouldn’t say planning,” he replies as he tears the condom open and rolls it on. “More just potentially anticipating. Hands, please. I’m going to redo them behind your back. I like to be prepared,” he continues. “You never know.”

“Indeed.” You offer up your wrists and he makes quick work of the knot, tugging you free and then helping you to your feet. He spins you around, fastening the twisted t-shirt back around your wrists where he has them pinned behind you. He’s fucking ridiculous, you think, staring down at the marble of the counter. The cartoon Robin Hood “spare coochie” meme pops into your head, and you stifle a laugh, feeling giddy. Spare marriage, sir? You make a mental note to send it to your best friend later—she’ll definitely clown you for it, but it’s kind of how you feel.

You feel Johnny’s hand on your waist, coaxing you to bend over, and the head of his cock against the entrance to your pussy. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, though it trails to a sigh when he pushes in.

It’s a little mind-numbing, though you’re of the opinion that good sex always should be. You rest your cheek on the cool marble, letting your eyes flutter shut. Your hips bump against the edge of the counter, but you can barely feel the pain, focused more on Johnny’s hands and Johnny’s cock, the way he fucks you open like he’s trying to take you apart.

“ God , you feel good,” he forces out, and you whine softly at the praise. “My little slut takes me so well.”

“Daddy,” you reply, a little slurred from your lightheadedness. You wonder vaguely if he’d be willing to fuck you elsewhere in his penthouse—maybe on the sofa, or the dining table, so that every time he has guests over, he’s forced to confront the memory of you, burning behind his eyes, your voice ringing in his ears. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be opposed. You have a feeling he’d find the idea of it just as hot as you do.

You don’t bring it up now, though; you wouldn’t, even if you could—which is beside the point anyway, because you’re too busy moaning at the way he feels inside you, cock dragging against the spot that makes your legs weak and your heart pound. Another thing you’re finding you love about Johnny is that he’s vocal—he groans softly with each thrust, whispering senseless praise every few strokes. It makes you sure he knows you’re here, and that it’s you that’s making him feel this way, that he’s not imagining someone else, or, probably worse, thinking of no one at all, not even you. You’re not against being objectified, but there’s a difference between feeling used and feeling useless. Johnny nails the former perfectly, and it’s enough to make you feel like you could sink all the way down the many, many stories beneath you, heavy with desire.

“I’m close, daddy,” you find yourself whimpering, and you don’t even really know how you got there. It’s the everything about it, you suppose—the way he holds your wrists behind you, securing you in place, the way he’s fucking you hard enough to leave bruises, the way he so clearly wants you, the way this is all happening in the middle of his insanely expensive and uncommonly gorgeous kitchen. “Touch me, please.”

Johnny does, letting go of your waist to snake his hand around front and massage over your clit with his index and middle fingers. “I’m close, too,” he tells you, breath hot on your back. “I dreamed about you last night, baby. Wanted you even in my sleep. What am I supposed to do with that, huh?”

“I think you—ah, fuck—I think you handled it just fine,” you reply through sharp inhales. You feel choked on your moans, even though there’s nothing blocking your airflow. In the back of your head, you wish there was, but it’s a bit too late for that now. “Lucky for you, I’m always on board.”

“Mm, good,” Johnny replies, voice low and strained. “We can make this a habit, if you want.”

You get an image of you, coming over to his place every week or so, only for him to fuck you into his mattress that night and then do it again in the morning. You shake, panting as you reply. “I’d like that,” you say, and he hums.

Your orgasm is fast approaching—your limbs feel like live wires, and the pressure in your pussy is building. You clench around Johnny’s cock without meaning to, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. He settles for grinding against you, pressed so deep inside you wonder if you’ll be feeling it for the next month. His fingers are still circling your clit, fast and sweet, sparks of pleasure bursting across your skin with each movement.

You come with a cry, breath fogging the counter below your mouth. You hear Johnny moaning behind you as he fucks you shallowly through your orgasm, hips stuttering as he comes as well, hand never leaving your clit until you’re so overstimulated you have to push him away.

You both catch your breath for a second after he pulls out, and then you stand up gingerly, stretching your back as best you can. Johnny’s fingers find the t-shirt on your wrists, a little clumsy now in his post-orgasm haze. But nevertheless, you’re soon released, and you turn around so you can kiss him.

He smiles into the kiss, and then you’re both laughing, barefoot and (mostly) naked in his kitchen at eleven o’clock in the morning. It’s not the wildest thing you’ve ever done, even as a real adult, but there’s definitely something to be said for fucking twice in the span of less than twelve hours.

“You’re so much fun,” he says as his laughter subsides, grinning at you. “Finally, someone that matches my energy.”

“I think that’s just a nice way of saying, ‘why do you have the sex drive of a fifteen year old boy?’ but I’ll take it,” you reply, scooping your underwear up from the floor. “Good thing we cleaned up beforehand.”

“Yeah, I think… we may have broken something otherwise,” he agrees. “Okay.” He rolls the condom off and ties it before chucking it in the trash. “I have a few things to get done, but I can offer you a robe and a pair of shorts if you want them, and you can hang out by the pool while I finish up. Feel free to take a glass or two of wine, if you like. Or a bottle or two, I don’t mind. I’ll join you in an hour or so.”

“I don’t need the shorts,” you say, going over to the wine cooler and plucking up the least-expensive looking red you see. “Can I take this?” He nods, and you cradle it to your chest, following him out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. “If it’s alright with you. I’ll just skinny-dip. The robe would be nice, though.”

“You’re lucky we’re the tallest building in the area,” Johnny says. “I doubt anyone will see you, in any case.”

You shrug. “It’s not like they’d be able to make out my face anyway. I’ll be fine.”

He leads you into his bedroom, and disappears into his closet. You discard the t-shirt on his bed, and place your folded underwear on top of the stack of the rest of your clothes on the bookshelf.

“Here.” Johnny’s extending a fluffy black robe to you. “It’s a little cold out there, so I thought I’d go for function over style.”

“Thanks,” you say, giggling, and let him help you into it. You fasten the sash around your waist, following him out to the balcony.

“You can rinse off there,” he says, pointing at a shower stall in the back corner by the hot tub that you didn’t see the night before. “Hot tub controls are on the wall. There’s some wine glasses and a bottle opener in this cabinet here.” He opens one of the doors, and produces a silver wine opener. “I’ll be in my office, okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him, accepting the wine opener. “Thank you.”

“No need.” He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, and then heads back inside.

You head over to the lounge chairs that are on the side of the pool protected by the weather shelter, next to the outer wall. You put the bottle of wine on the ground, taking off your robe and draping it over a chair, and then take the bottle and the bottle opener to the hot tub. You put them on the side, and start the heat and jets in the tub, then hop into the shower really quick to rinse off the layer of sweat before making your swift way to the hot tub, shivering against the slight wind.

You sigh in appreciation as you sink under the warm water, reaching up to open your wine. You didn’t bother with a glass—you know you’re probably going to drink the whole thing, anyway. You sit like that, water just barely up to your chest, sipping the wine and surveying the city with half-lidded eyes.

Really, you don’t know how you got so lucky. Maybe I should half-stalk more hot guys for fun, you think to yourself, smiling. You never know. The next one could be the son of an oil tycoon, or a prince. If you can’t eat the rich, then… at least fuck them, right? And steal their wine.

By the time Johnny comes out onto the balcony, you’re about three-quarters of the way through the bottle of wine. Though the pancakes from this morning did something to buffer the effects of the alcohol at first, you definitely have a solid buzz going, and you giggle through your greeting smile when Johnny comes into view.

“Do you want some?” you ask, offering up the bottle. “Before I finish it?”

He grins, shaking his head. “No, I think I’ll need to drive you home, so I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Mmkay.” You tilt your head back, taking him in. He’s changed into a pair of swim shorts and nothing else, and though it’s not very sunny, he has sunglasses perched on the top of his head, blonde hair pushed back and falling over the frames. “Well, at least join me.”

“You don’t even have to ask.” He slips into the water beside you, moving close to kiss your cheekbone, the corner of your lips, your jaw.

“Work go okay?” you ask.

“Mm-hmm,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hair tickles your ear, and you laugh. “I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, bringing your opposite hand around to cup his cheek. “Have anything in mind?”

“Well,” Johnny says, kissing your palm and peeling away to lean back against the tub. “I was thinking lunch would be in order sometime soon. Maybe we could nap, if you want. And then I’d drive you home before dinner. I don’t want to keep you too long; I know you have shit to do.”

It’s unfortunate, but he’s right. As much as you want to stay longer, you know you have to sober up and get home to finish at least part of your project. Besides, you don’t want to overstay your welcome. “Yeah,” you say. “I do have shit to do.”

“Make no mistake,” he adds quickly. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. I just don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“Well, thank you.” You take another swig of wine, rolling the liquid around in your mouth. “I appreciate it.”

“So,” he continues. “We soak here for a little while longer, and then we eat and take a siesta, how’s that sound?”

“You’re a dork,” you inform him, but you nod. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

You sit together for a few minutes as you finish your bottle of wine, chatting and laughing.

“So,” you say when your wine bottle is empty. “Do you let all the pretty girls use your hot tub and drink your alcohol?”

Johnny laughs. “No,” he says, giving you his blinding smile. “Only the ones that surveil me for months at the gym.”

You swat him, but play along. “Ah, so I’m the first?” you ask. “Surely no one else is as crazy.”

“You never know,” he replies, still grinning. “You’d be surprised.”

“You have another stalker?” you ask, feigning shock and offense.

“You’re not a stalker,” he points out. “And no. You’re just not the first person to approach me at the gym.”

“I did no approaching. That was like, the main problem,” you say, and he laughs again.

“This is all to say, yes, I have had other girls over before, but not recently, and they usually left in the morning.” He spreads his hands. “So consider yourself special.”

“It’s considered.” He snorts and shoves you lightly, and you shove him back. He grabs your arm to stop you from doing it again, and somehow you end up nose to nose, wrestling in the water. You jut your chin forward so you can kiss him, but even kissing, you’re still grappling with each other. You break apart to giggle. Johnny’s sunglasses are askew on his head.

“All right,” he says once your mini fight has died down. He pushes himself out of the tub, getting to his feet. You watch, unabashed, as beads of water trickle down his perfect torso. “Let’s go see about some lunch.”

He offers you a hand, scooping up the empty wine bottle with the other, and you stand, now oddly self-conscious. It’s certainly not like he hasn’t seen you naked before—and quite recently, too—but still, you duck your head and hope Johnny isn’t looking too close.

The problem is, you’re a little drunk, and focusing super hard on how you look means you’re not focused on walking. You manage to trip over your own feet, and if Johnny wasn’t there to catch you, you’d probably have gone sprawling out across the concrete. Though the danger of you falling has passed, neither of you loosen your grip on the other’s arm.

“Sorry,” you say, hushed.

“Can’t blame you,” Johnny replies. “You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

You shrug one shoulder, giving him a coy look. “Maybe more than a little.”

He shakes his head and guides you backwards into a lounge chair. “D’you think lunch could wait just a few minutes?” He doesn’t really wait for an answer, though; he’s already covered your body with his, lips on your neck.

“What, was my clumsiness so enticing?” you ask, grinning. “You like it when girls trip themselves and almost fall to their deaths?”

“No, I like seeing you naked in my hot tub, drunk off my wine, swaying on my balcony,” he says, and that shuts you right up. “You know what I thought when I first walked out here and saw you? Giggling, beautiful tits—“ he squeezes one in his hand as if to punctuate his point, and you gasp. “—just barely visible, eyes not quite focused?”

“No, what?” you say, barely hearing your own words.

He looks up. “God, she’s beautiful,” he says, and smirks when you roll your eyes at him. “I thought we talked about rolling your eyes.”

“Okay, Christian Grey,” you say, and he smacks your thigh.

“I’m serious, any more attitude and I’ll be beating your ass black and blue, not eating you out.” His eyes are still dancing with laughter but his tone is firm. You quiet down, nodding. “That’s better.” He scoots down the lounge chair, spreading your legs and throwing one of them over his shoulder. By the time you’ve processed this change in position, he has his mouth on you. He sucks lightly on your clit, teeth barely grazing it, and you shudder involuntarily.

You watch the muscles in his back ripple as he bends deeper, and almost reach out to touch, but remember the rules. “Can I touch you, sir?” you ask, making your voice meek and small.

“Yes, baby,” he pulls away briefly to murmur.

You run a hand down his back, tracing lines up and down his spine, plucking his sunglasses off the crown of his head so they don’t get in the way, and holding his hair out of his eyes with your other hand. He hums his thanks around your clit, and the vibration makes you moan.

You’re a horny drunk as it is—an affliction that gets the better of you all the time—but something about the way Johnny was talking about it, how he liked that you were at his place, unsteady in your drunk-ness, how that turned him on... it just makes it worse. You’re so wet and so needy, and he’s barely done anything to you. Maybe it’s that he feels safe, even like this, or maybe it’s just that you like to be incapacitated and completely at the mercy of your partner, but all of it is making your head spin. Or maybe it’s just the pleasure mixing with the alcohol.

You’re glad he has a strong hand braced against your thigh, otherwise you’d be at risk of crushing his skull between your legs. Or maybe you’re just at risk of melting into a puddle of desire right here and now. Your limbs feel heavy, and all you can do is moan, Johnny’s tongue quickly pushing you close to the edge.

You can’t even warn him before you come, shaking your way through it, curled forward and praying you’re not suffocating him. He presses kisses to your clit, your pussy, movements almost lazy while you slowly come down from it, gasping in breaths.

As soon as you can speak again, you push him to his feet. “Okay, now you,” you demand.

He smiles, stepping around your legs. “Put your feet up on the chair and tilt your head back.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, keeping eye contact. You cross one ankle over the other, dropping your head back onto the headrest, and stretching your mouth open. You stick your tongue out and raise your eyebrows a little at him.

“What a good girl.” He presses his thumb into your mouth; you let him bully a few fingers against the back of your throat. “You’re so—pliant, I think is the word I’m looking for. You always get like this when you drink?”

“Not always,” you answer around his fingers. “Depends on who I’m with. With you, probably yes.”

Satisfaction settles across his face. “Maybe we can test that out sometime,” he says, nonchalant, withdrawing his fingers. “Okay, want my cock?”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply.

He tugs down his shorts, just low enough that you have access, and shuffles forward a few more steps until the head is ghosting against the tip of your tongue. You hold very still, though all you want to do is stretch your tongue out and lick the precome beading at the tip. Gradually, he pushes his cock into your mouth until it’s all you can do not to gag. You hollow your cheeks as best you can, breathing harshly through your nose.

Johnny strokes your jaw with his thumb. “Good girl,” he repeats. “Gonna let me use your poor throat? Gonna let me fuck your face til I come?” You nod, trying to make little mm-hm noises around his cock. He gets the message. “Thank you, baby,” he all but coos, one hand going to grip your hair, tight and close to your scalp. You try to open your jaw a little wider. A tear leaks out of the corner of your eye, followed by another, and another, as Johnny pulls out fluidly and then shoves his cock right back down your throat.

You can’t help it after a minute or two—you’re gagging and your spit is thick and glistening on his cock when he slides it out of your mouth. It’s okay, though; you’re not really at risk of throwing up, You are still crying, though, more just a natural reaction from your body getting abused than anything else. Johnny doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t acknowledge it. He yanks your head forward and you let your torso loll over the seat, closing your eyes.

“God,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “I tell you you’re good, and you’ll just let me do anything, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” you say, too drunk and too preoccupied to argue.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, and you moan around his cock. You feel like you’re floating in honey; though Johnny’s thrusts are sharp and fast, they feel slow, the wine numbing you to any pain. You know you’re messy—spit is dripping down your chin and mixing with your tears—but you can’t be bothered with it. Besides, Johnny thinks it’s hot, and that’s all that really matters.

Abruptly, he pulls out, leaving you heaving for breath. He keeps the one hand on your hair, so your face is tilted up towards him. He jacks himself off, groaning when he finally comes. You squeeze your eyes tight—come stings if you get it in your eyes, you know—and moan quietly when you feel it hit your brow bone, your cheek, your tongue.

Johnny cleans you off a bit with his fingers and you swipe at your face a little before looking up at him. He’s tucked himself back into his pants, and he’s flushed but smiling.

“Okay,” he says, breathless. “Now lunch.”

You laugh, taking his hand and getting to your feet. You sway, but it’s okay, because Johnny catches you.

* * *

After lunch, you both shower and curl up in Johnny’s bed for a much-needed nap. You fall asleep tucked closed to his chest and your nose full of the scent of his cologne.

You wake late to a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey.” You blink your eyes open and see Johnny sitting up beside you. “I’m not trying to kick you out, please take your time. I just figured you’d wanna be getting home.”

You squint at the clock; it’s a little before three. “Yeah,” you whisper back. “I do. Thank you.”

He smiles and stands, going to raise the blinds. You follow him, grabbing your clothes and pulling them on, adjusting your dress as the shades click in place at the top of the windows.

“Got everything?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” you reply, retrieving your phone from the bedside table. You’re still a little unsteady, but sobering by the minute, so you’re pretty sure you’re telling the truth.

“Well,” he says as he follows you down the stairs. “If you do happen to leave something behind, you have my number.”

“Yes.” You smile at him as you shrug your coat on, checking your pockets for your wallet and your keys.

You both pull on your shoes and head out into the hall, then back into the fancy elevator. You’re silent as you ride all the way down to the garage.

Johnny opens the passenger side door for you and shuts it once you’re settled. There’s almost a melancholy stillness in the car—the air seems a little tense. You watch your hands in your lap, not sure how to broach the subject. Will we see each other again?

Once you get into the city, you direct Johnny towards your building. It might not be wise to give him your address, but then again, he hasn’t done anything to give you pause, so you decide not to worry about it.

A few missed turns later, he pulls up along the curb, and turns his car off. There’s a beat of silence as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride,” you say softly. He nods. You open your door and stick your right leg out, and then turn back to him. “Will I see you again?”

“If you want,” Johnny says with a wide smile. He leans toward you and you take the opportunity to give him a goodbye kiss. “Text me anytime, baby,” he murmurs when you pull away, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Will do.” You get out of the car and shut the door, then bend down so you can wave goodbye through the window.

Johnny waves back, putting his car in drive. Right before he pulls away, he makes eye contact with you and gives you that same fucking wink.