#travis x reader

inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, while the endless rows of corrugated metal doors stretched into the dim distance.

shift work here was mind-numbing at the best of times. tonight, with the storm raging outside and only the two of you on duty, it felt like the world had narrowed down to this one quiet corner of the office.

you leaned against the counter, orange t-shirt sticking slightly to your skin from the humidity. travis was a few feet away, fiddling with a clipboard even though nothing needed checking. his grey t-shirt stretched across his shoulders, the sleeves rode up every time he moved, revealing the edges of tattoos that snaked down his forearms.

you’d been here a couple of weeks, long enough to get used to him. at first, he came off a little awkward, but you got used to the constant yapping, and, if you were being honest, you found it kind of cute. he always had some dumb story ready whenever things got quiet, and somehow they never stopped making you laugh.

unfortunately, you’d spent more time than you’d like to admit ranting about your ex. travis would just sit there, listen, then hit you with, “dude sounds like a walking red flag,” like it explained everything. he never understood why you stayed with him when every story you told ended with your boyfriend doing something that annoyed you.

after sitting with it for a couple of days, you finally decided to end the relationship.

“i finally did it,” you said suddenly, voice cutting through the rain. “broke up with him a couple days ago.”

travis’s head snapped up so fast the clipboard nearly slipped from his hands. his eyes widened, that soft hazel color catching the light. “wait—seriously? like, done done?” he set the clipboard down, then immediately picked it back up, nerves making him fidget.

“i mean, that’s… shit, that’s good. not good like ‘haha your relationship exploded,’ but from what you told me-yeah, he was kind of an asshole. not that breakups aren’t rough. if you’re sad or whatever, i get it. i’ve been there. well, not exactly there, but close enough. you okay? you don’t look okay. or you look okay, but like, quiet -okay? fuck, i’m talking too much.”

you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “i’m not sad. i’m just… kinda numb, i don’t know. it feels like it should hurt more, but it doesn’t.”

he nodded a little too quickly, his hair falling into his face again. “numb makes sense. totally valid.”

you almost laughed. travis was always a little awkward, but you’d noticed how flustered he got whenever you stood too close or paid him a compliment. it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out he had a thing for you. and, if you were being honest, he was really attractive. maybe it was the conversation, or maybe it was just the way he was looking at you, but that night, something between you felt… different.

travis gave you a sideways look. “so… was there anything about him that was actually worth sticking around for?”

you opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. you thought about it for a second, then huffed a laugh.

“honestly?”

he raised an eyebrow.

then, almost without meaning to, you found yourself saying it.

“he wasn’t even good in bed. that was probably one of the biggest reasons. always felt like i was just… there.”

travis froze mid-reach for his water bottle. his ears went pink. he opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. “damn. that’s— i mean, yeah, no wonder you were annoyed by him. you deserve way better than that. i mean you’re too—” he cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck, tattoos flexing with the movement. “you’re too fucking sexy to be dealing with half-assed shit like that. someone should be making you feel it, you know?”

the words hung in the air, heavier than either of you expected. your pulse kicked up, heat rushed to your cheeks before you could stop it.

you met his eyes, a playful challenge slipping into your voice even as heat pooled low in your stomach. “you wanna fuck me, travis?”

you asked it teasingly, more as a joke than anything else. even as the words left your mouth, you couldn’t believe you’d been bold enough to say them.

he didn’t laugh. didn’t deflect with another nervous ramble. his gaze darkened, dropping to your mouth for a beat before coming back up.

“yeah” he said, voice low and steady. the silence that followed crackled. you could hear your own heartbeat over the rain.

“i’m gonna go check the alarms downstairs,” he muttered after a moment, clearing his throat. it sounded more like an excuse than anything else, a way to escape the confession before he had to hear your answer. but he didn’t move right away, like he was giving you an out. or an invitation.

before you even realized it, you were following him.

the stairwell was colder, the metal steps echoing under your shoes. the lower level was all shadows and rows of locked units, the big roll-up doors gleaming dully under emergency lights.

travis stopped in front of one, pretending to check the panel, big hands hovering uselessly. you stepped close, close enough to smell the faint scent of his soap and the fabric of his green shirt.

he turned. you didn’t give either of you time to overthink it. you kissed him first, rising up on your toes and pressing your mouth to his. he made a surprised sound that melted into a low groan, and then his hands were on you, those big, warm palms sliding around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

the metal door was cool at your back as he walked you into it, the contrast making you shiver. his long hair brushed your cheek when he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, tongue teasing yours with a confidence that made your knees feel unsteady.

“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, voice rougher now. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

his hands moved down, gripping your hips, then sliding under the hem of your t-shirt. his warm fingertips traced your skin like he was memorizing it.

you tugged at his shirt in return, feeling the hard lines of muscle. he was still talking, breathless compliments between kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, with his lips brushing your ear.

you arched into him as his hand slipped beneath your leggings, fingers finding you already wet. he groaned at the discovery, pressing two thick fingers inside with a slow, deliberate curl that made your breath hitch.

the metal door rattled faintly behind you with every shift of your bodies. rain pounded overhead like white noise, drowning out everything except the sounds you were making for each other.

travis dropped to his knees just long enough to yank your leggings and underwear down your thighs, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before standing again. he freed himself from his orange work pants, hard and heavy in his hand, and lifted one of your legs around his hip.

the first push inside stretched you perfectly. slow enough to feel every inch, deep enough to make your head fall back against the cold metal with a quiet thud.

“shit—travis…” your fingers tangled in his blonde hair, gripping tight.

he rocked into you with steady, deep thrusts, one hand braced on the door beside your head, the other holding your thigh higher. his shirt was rucked up, skin hot and slightly damp against yours. every time he bottomed out, a low and satisfied sound escaped him.

“you feel so good,” he rasped, with his forehead pressed to yours. “so damn perfect. look at you—taking me like this. fucking gorgeous.”

the angle hit just right with every thrust, building that sharp, coiling pleasure fast. his free hand slipped between you, thumb circling your clit with surprising precision. the contrast was dizzying, this sweet, silly guy who rambled about everything suddenly fucking you like he’d been thinking about it for weeks, whispering filthy, sweet praise against your mouth.

when you came, it hit hard, legs shaking, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, a broken moan swallowed by another deep kiss.

he followed right after, burying himself deep and groaning your name like it was the only word he remembered, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

for a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the relentless rain.

travis pressed a softer kiss to your temple, still inside you. his arms wrapped around your waist like he didn’t want to let you go yet. “you okay?” he asked quietly, that familiar nervous edge creeping back into his voice.

you smiled against his neck,“yeah. im ok.”

he tilted his head, listening for a moment. “it stopped raining.”

you let out a quiet hum, your fingers absentmindedly tracing his arm. “i don’t wanna leave now.”

he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You didn’t want to lie to yourself — the moment he stepped inside, you genuinely thought he was going to rob the place. He wore an oversized uniform that looked a bit worn around the edges, his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and he was casting a frantic, darting gaze around the room. 

It was the kind of nervous look that usually screamed trouble. He certainly didn’t look like the usual crowd of quiet college students or elderly neighbors who came in to look around the poetry section. 

You instinctively straightened your posture, keeping your eyes glued to his movements as he took a few hesitant, shaky steps further into the shop.

But then, he caught you looking; and instead of turning away or darting down an aisle to hide, he walked straight toward the desk. 

When he finally spoke, all your defenses immediately crumbled. His voice was soft, carrying a tone so genuinely polite and deeply nervous that a little part of your heart instantly softened.

"Um, excuse me," he said, clearing his throat and looking down at his shoes before meeting your eyes. "I was wondering... could you maybe help me find a good book? A recommendation, I mean. I’m a bit lost."

You blinked, caught entirely off guard by the sharp contrast between his intimidating, defensive posture and his gentle voice.

"Sure, I can absolutely help you with that," you said, offering a small, reassuring smile to ease the obvious tension in his shoulders. "What kind of genre do you usually like to read?"

He blinked back at you, his eyes widening slightly as if you had just asked him to solve a complex mathematical equation.

"G-genre?" he stammered, shifting his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. "Oh. Wow. Okay. To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it like that before. I mean, I know there are a lot of different genres out there, obviously. There’s romance, history, mystery, biography... but I’ve just never stopped to ask myself, ‘Hey, what genre do you actually like?’ You know? It’s kind of a big question when you think about it. I like a lot of random things, I guess. But then again, maybe there’s something I absolutely hate? Probably—"

He was talking faster and faster, his words tripping over one another as his hands came out of his pockets to gesture wildly in the air. You couldn’t help but realize right then and there that he was one of those people. The kind of person who gets so incredibly nervous or excited that they just keep talking and talking, and you have to physically step in to stop them before they go on for hours. 

It was almost endearing.

"How about horror?" you asked, gently cutting him off with a soft, amused laugh.

He stopped mid-sentence, his mouth staying slightly open for a second before his brain fully processed your words. He tilted his head, genuinely thinking it over.

"Horror?" he repeated, the tension leaving his face. "Yeah. Yeah, actually, I like horror. That sounds pretty good."

You smiled and walked out from behind the safety of the counter, stepping into the narrow aisles of the library. The space between the tall, wooden bookshelves was tight, making every movement feel just a bit more intimate. 

You turned your head back over your shoulder, gesturing for him to follow you. He nodded quickly and, with a slightly clumsy scramble, stepped right into place behind you.

You could feel his physical presence just a step away. He was tall, and his frame made the narrow aisle feel even smaller than it usually did. The air between you felt a bit charged, a strange but not unpleasant tension growing as you guided him deeper into the shadows of the fiction section.

"Let’s see what we have here..." you murmured, running your fingertips lightly along the dusty spines of the books.

The familiar texture of paper and leather usually calmed you down, but right now, you were acutely aware of him watching your every move. You could hear his quiet breathing right behind you.

Suddenly, a loud, heavy sound broke the silence of the place.

You jumped slightly and spun around. 

A thick book was lying flat on the floorboards between the two of you. He was already frantically bending down, his face flushing a soft crimson that reached all the way to his ears.

He picked up the book with trembling hands and shoved it back onto the shelf. He didn’t even check if it was the right spot before burying his hands deep into his uniform pockets again, looking exactly like a kid who had just been caught breaking a valuable vase. 

"I’m sorry."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to contain a genuine smile. 

His sudden embarrassment was incredibly sweet, completely shattering any lingering awkwardness or suspicion you had left. 

You reached past him, your shoulder brushing lightly against his, and pulled a specific book from the top shelf. You turned and extended it toward him.

"Try this one," you said softly. "It has horror, suspense, a bit of science fiction... a little bit of everything, really."

He cautiously took his hands out of his pockets and accepted the book from you. As his fingers brushed against yours, a small, sudden jolt of awareness ran through your veins. 

He held the book up to his face, scanning the cover and frowning slightly as he took in his first impression.

"The Body Snatcher," he read the title out loud. His voice trailed off, a highly skeptical look appearing on his face. He looked up at you. "A bit creepy, don’t you think?"

You shrugged your shoulders playfully, leaning back against the sturdy bookshelf and crossing your arms.

"Well, if it’s a bit too much for you, I can always take you over to the children’s section," you teased, dropping your voice to a whisper. "They have some really great picture books over there. Very safe."

He looked up from the cover, and a wide, genuine smile broke across his face. You couldn’t deny it — from the very first moment he smiled, it had a strange, indescribable effect on you. Your stomach did a sudden little flip, and the small aisle suddenly felt much warmer than it had a few minutes ago.

"No, no," he laughed softly, holding the book a bit tighter against his chest. "I’ll take this one. If it’s okay with you, I mean."

"Perfect," you replied, leading the way back to the front of the library and stepping behind the desk. "I hope you enjoy it, uhm..." You paused intentionally waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"Travis," he said quickly, reaching across the counter and extending his right hand toward you.

"Travis," you repeated. The name fitted him perfectly. You smiled, telling him your own name as you reached out to take his hand.

His grip was warm and firm, but instead of a quick, polite business shake, your hands stayed joined a second longer than necessary. Neither of you seemed to want to break the contact first. Travis’s smile widened, a soft, knowing look appearing in his eyes that made your heart beat just a bit faster.

"I’ll see you in a month, then," you said, finally letting go of his hand, though you already felt the sudden absence of his warmth. "That’s usually how long it takes people to finish that one."

"I’ll probably be back around here way before that," Travis replied smoothly, his eyes locked onto yours with a newfound confidence.

You nodded, a sudden wave of happy anticipation washing over you. 

"Deal."

"Deal," he repeated with a final nod. With a lingering wave, he turned around and walked toward the exit.

Your eyes followed him every single step of the way. You watched him push open the door, the bell chiming once more as he stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. The very moment the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a long, heavy sigh, only just realizing that you had been holding your breath the entire time.

—

These days, the book discussions between the two of you have become a regular habit.

"I just don’t know if I really get the motive, you know?" Travis has been talking for twenty minutes straight about Frankenstein, the book you recommended to him just last week.

You hold out your hand, and he smoothly passes you a heavy hardcover volume, his large, calloused fingers securing the base of the wooden rolling ladder while you climb up a few steps to slide it back into its proper place on the high shelf. 

This has become your routine. Every single Friday, right before he starts his night shift at the local storage facility, he walks through the front doors of the library to pick up a new recommendation.

He took his sweet time reading the first books.

But lately? He devours them faster and faster, his reading speed accelerating until it becomes completely impossible not to see him crossing that threshold at 5:00 PM sharp, eyes scanning the room until they land on you, eagerly waiting for his next acquisition.

"What exactly is it that you don’t understand?" you ask him, looking down from the ladder and extending your hand again to silently ask for another book from the pile.

Travis shrugs his broad shoulders, turning around slightly to grab the next book and handing it up to you. As the physical exchange happens, your fingers brush against his. The contact lasts for only a second, but a sudden spark of heat shoots straight up your arm.

"I don’t know. The why of it all," he mutters, crossing his thick arms over his chest and leaning his weight back against the side of the ladder. 

The way the material of his uniform stretches tightly across his broad chest and biceps whenever he moves is the kind of sight that, if you stare or think about it for too long, makes a deep blush creep up your neck. 

"Why create the monster in the first place? Why go through all that trouble just to abandon it?"

You smile, shaking your head gently as you slide the book into its perfect, tight slot on the shelf. 

"You lack ambition, Travis."

He frowns, his dark eyes intently tracking the subtle movements of your body as you begin your descent down the wooden steps of the ladder. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

When your feet finally touch the solid linoleum floor, your body is positioned directly in front of him. The space between you is incredibly small, close enough that you can smell his scent. 

You shrug your shoulders playfully.

"It’s about power. It’s about feeling like God, even," you murmur. You reach out and grab a fresh stack of heavy books from a nearby cart, your knuckles intentionally grazing against the side of his stomach. "Haven’t you ever wanted to have total, absolute power over something?" you ask him, your voice dropping into a teasing, playful whisper close to his face.

You turn on your heels, your hips swaying just a fraction more than usual as you walk away toward the classic romance section.

Travis stands frozen for a few seconds, his gaze completely locked onto your hips as you walk away from him. He pulls himself away from the ladder, his heavy work boots thudding softly against the floor as he follows you down the narrow, dimly lit aisle of the library stacks.

"I mean... yeah... I guess so," he says, his voice sounding a bit thick, a trace of confusion and growing arousal coloring his tone.

"What do you mean, 'I guess so'?" you ask, turning back to face him and gesturing with your chin for him to pick up another stack of returned books from the bottom shelf to bring along.

He groans softly but complies, bending down. As he does, the hem of his dark work jacket pulls up a few inches, exposing a strip of skin and the dark elastic band of his boxers. He lifts the heavy stack with an effortless grunt, straightening up and following you deeper into the maze of bookshelves.

"I don’t know," Travis mutters, looking down at the books in his arms. "I guess when I was in prison, that was when I felt that need the most. To have control over something. Anything. Over my own life. And I just couldn’t have it."

You let out a soft, sympathetic sound, reaching out to take one of the books from his arms to slide it into a shelf. Travis drops the rest of the stack onto the floor beside his boots. 

For a guy who can talk your ear off about anything, he rarely ever mentions his time behind bars. You never want to pry or push him too hard, but you genuinely appreciate the tiny, rare pieces of information he occasionally lets slip.

"Still, sometimes the desperate need for power can lead straight to your downfall," you remark, carefully aligning the spines of the books on the shelf.

Travis lets out a low, appreciative whistle, leaning his back against the opposite bookshelf, his entire body turned toward you, watching your hands work. 

"Damn. That’s deep."

You smile, casting a quick glance over your shoulder at him before shrugging. 

"But it’s the truth."

He bites his lower lip, trying and failing to hide the broad smile pulling at his mouth, and nodding in agreement.

A comfortable, heavy silence settles between the two of you for a few minutes. The small local library is practically dead, just minutes away from closing up for the night. At this hour, the place is completely deserted. There aren’t even any late-night students lingering around to look for last-minute research books. 

Travis shifts his weight, glancing down at his phone. He’s supposed to leave for his shift in about half an hour.

"So..." Travis starts, his voice dropping an octave. He steps closer, his large hand reaching out as his fingers gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He tilts his head down, trying to catch your gaze while you desperately try to focus on organizing the books. "About our date tomorrow..."

You smile, raising your eyebrows as you finally turn your head to look at him.

"You’re calling that a date?"

His brow furrows, though his expression remains thoroughly playful. 

"It isn’t?"

You let out a soft laugh. "Travis, you invite me to go to a crowded bar with your friends. That is definitely not a date.

Travis rolls his eyes, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. 

“Oh, come on, you’ve gotta be a little more flexible than that. Things nowadays don’t work like they do in those old books you love so much. What’s it called? Order and Prejudice?”

"Pride and Prejudice," you correct him immediately, reaching out to give his broad shoulder a firm, playful shove.

He laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates right in his chest. 

"Whatever. Same difference."

You roll your eyes, turning away to walk toward the next section of shelves.

But his large, warm hands reach out, wrapping firmly around your waist from behind. With a gentle tug, he turns your body completely around to face him. 

Startled, you place your palms flat against his chest, feeling the steady thumping of his heart beneath the thick fabric of his uniform.

"Let’s have a date right now, then," he murmurs, his eyes locking onto yours.

You laugh, completely astonished by his sudden boldness. 

"What?"

"Yeah. Seriously. Come on," Travis urges, his hands sliding slightly up and down the sides of your waist, over your shirt, swaying you gently from side to side in a tiny, slow-motion dance. "If you don’t think going out with my buddies counts as a real date, then let’s just have our own date. Right here. Right now." His eyes go down to your mouth before snapping back up. "We can order some greasy food, sit on the floor, and just talk..."

You bite your inner cheek to fight back a growing smile, tilting your head to the side. 

"Travis, you literally have to go to work."

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, waving his hand in the air as if the job meant absolutely nothing to him. 

"I can show up late. Nobody cares over there. That storage is a ghost town and boring as hell. It can survive without its night watchman for a couple of hours."

You place your hands against his chest again, giving him a gentle, firm push to create some distance. 

"I already have plans tonight, Travis. I’m sorry." 

You turn back around, picking up the final stack of books from the cart and walking toward the isolated, shadowy section at the very back of the library where the last few shelves need to be filled.

Travis lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh. 

He rubs his large hands aggressively over his face, his boots scraping against the floor as he storms after you.

"You know, if this is all just because I’m completely not your type, you can just be straight with me and tell me once and for all," he snaps, his voice suddenly losing all its playful warmth, replaced by a raw, biting edge.

You freeze instantly in your tracks. 

The book you were about to slide into the shelf remains gripped tightly in your hand, suspended mid-air. You slowly turn around to look at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. 

"What?"

Travis lets out a sharp, sarcastic laugh, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he glares at you. 

"It’s fine. Really. I get it. I’m not like those super smart, intellectual college guys who walk through that front door every day. The ones you probably have incredibly deep, fascinating conversations with. I’m not some rich kid with a bright future, either. Hell, I barely managed to get my life back on track after getting out of prison."

He takes a large, aggressive step forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. Your back hits the hard wooden edge of the bookshelf behind you. You are completely cornered, trapped entirely between the solid wall of shelves and the massive, imposing heat of his body.

"But you can’t keep doing this to me," Travis whispers, his voice trembling with a dangerous mix of anger and desperate desire. He leans down, his face inches from yours. "You can’t keep playing this game where you pull me in, get me all twisted up, and then push me away the second I try to get close. It’s driving me completely insane."

You frown, your breath catching in your throat as you stare into his dark, intense eyes. 

"I don’t do that..."

A bitter, humorless smile touches his lips. He shakes his head slowly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks. 

When he speaks again, his voice is nothing more than a rough, gravelly whisper right against your skin.

"You know what bothers me the most about that creature in the book?" His eyes drop down to your lips, tracking the way they part slightly. "How fucking pathetic he looks, just begging and searching for a little bit of love."

The air between you feels thick. Your breathing is completely erratic, matching the heavy rise and fall of his chest. 

For a long, agonizing second, neither of you say a word. The tension is a living thing, stretching tight enough to snap.

"Whatever," Travis mutters roughly, his eyes darkening with a flash of defeat.

But before he can even begin to pull his body away from yours, your hand shoots out, your fingers wrapping tightly around the collar of his work jacket. With a sudden burst of desperation, you yank him down and slam your lips hard against his.

Travis lets out a low, guttural growl deep in his throat, the sound vibrating directly into your mouth as he reacts instantly. Any trace of hesitation vanished. His large hands fly to your face, his long fingers tangling into your hair as he tilts your head back and kisses you with a raw, bruising hunger. 

It isn’t a gentle kiss; it’s a desperate, starved collision of teeth and tongues. 

He presses his massive body heavily against yours, pinning you flat against the bookshelf. The wood groans under the shifting weight, and a couple of books rattled on the upper shelves, but neither of you care.

You whimper into his mouth, your hands moving from his collar to grip his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer, if that’s even possible. 

His tongue slides deeply into your mouth, claiming you with an aggressive, possessive rhythm that makes your knees completely weak. 

He moves one of his legs in between yours, making you ride the hard, thick muscle of his leg as he rocks his hips forward. The unmistakable, rock-hard length of his growing erection presses firmly against your aching center, even through the layers of your clothes.

"Fuck," Travis growls, tearing his mouth away from yours for a fraction of a second to breathe. 

His breath is hot and heavy against your wet lips. He drags his mouth down your jawline, his teeth nipping sharply at the sensitive skin of your neck, making you arch your back and gasp loudly into the empty, quiet library. 

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. How fucking long I’ve dreamed about tearing your clothes off in this place."

"Travis," you gasp out, your fingers digging into the thick muscles of his back. "The doors... someone might..."

He doesn’t even answer, still pressing his lips against your skin, his hands moving down to grip your waist with a bruising pressure, lifting you slightly so he can grind his crotch harder against yours.

He slides his hands underneath your shirt, his rough, calloused palms scraping against your bare skin, sending a violent shiver straight down your spine. 

He moves up to cup your breasts through your bra, squeezing the soft flesh roughly, his thumbs flicking hard over your sensitive nipples until you are whining, your head dropping back against the shelf.

The sheer thrill of being caught, combined with the raw, unfiltered dominance Travis is radiating, completely pushes you over the edge. You want him. You need him right now.

Your hands push at his chest, guiding him backwards. His back hits the bookshelves on the other side, and he grips the edge of it to stabilize himself

"So…" you whisper on his lips. His dark eyes flash with an intense, predatory heat. He understands instantly. His gaze locks onto yours as you reach for the waistband of his work trousers. "Is that all the book analysis you have for me today?"

With a swift, heavy tug, you unbuttoned his pants and shoved them and his dark boxers down past his hips. His cock bounces free, completely thick and fully hard now, pulsing with a heavy vein running down the length of it. 

It’s massive, glistening with a bead of pre-cum at the thick, red head.

Travis lets out a rough, gravelly groan the second he feels your hand wrap around his cock. 

The veins in his neck pop as you slide a little lower, gripping his length tightly from the base. Travis tangles his thick fingers into your hair to anchor himself as he launches into his rant.

"It’s just... seriously, I can’t get over how fucking stupid the guy is," he rasps, his voice dropping an octave and cracking as you kneel down and slowly leave wet kisses on his v-line down his pelvis above the thick pubis hair. "The piece of shit Victor spends months locked up in a lab, playing God, completely obsessed with the idea of creating life... and then when the creature finally opens its eyes... Ah, fuck, right there.. right there, baby!"

You start to suck him with a steady, punishing rhythm from the head of his cock. Travis throws his head back for a second, cutting off his own speech with a dirty groan as your spit completely lubricates his thickness. 

He forces his gaze back down at you, his eyes dark with pure lust, completely turned on by the sight of you on your knees, swallowing him whole on the library floor.

"And then..." he continues, his breathing incredibly ragged as your lips slide up and down his length. "The guy sees that the creature is terriying and just runs away like a fucking coward. If you have the balls to create something, you take responsibility for it. You don’t just abandon it just because it doesn't look or acts as you— ohhh, fuck, shit, baby, mmm, fuck, you take me so fucking well."

Your mouth swirls tighter around him, making his entire body shudder. 

Travis gently tugs your hair back, forcing you to release his cock by just an inch — just enough so he can catch his breath and keep cursing the damn scientists.

"The creature wasn’t born evil, you know? They made him evil by constantly rejecting him. The guy just wanted a shot, someone who wasn’t terrified of him, f—" 

His voice completely breaks as you shove him deeper into your mouth again, swirling your tongue aggressively around his sensitive skin. 

"Holy shit"

Travis can’t hold onto the thread of his analysis anymore. The blinding heat of your mouth is driving him insane, erasing any trace of logic as his hips begin to unconsciously thrust against your lips, completely surrendering to the pleasure.

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you in place.

"Fucking look at you." Travis moans out, "Do it. Take it."

You don’t hesitate. 

You lean forward, opening your mouth wider, trying to take him completely. Travis lets out a loud, ungodly groan, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His thighs tremble as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck him down into your throat as deeply as you could manage again.

"Oh, fuck, yes," he gasps, his knuckles turning white as he grips your hair, guiding the rhythm of your head, throwin his own head back. "Suck it, baby. Eat my cock."

The language is dirty, completely stripping away the polite, quiet atmosphere of the library; and it turns you on completely. 

You swallow him deeper, your nose burying into his pubic hair, the heat of his skin enveloping your face. 

You let your teeth graze slightly against him, and Travis lets out a sharp, ragged curse, his hips thrusting heavily against your mouth, forcing himself deep into your throat until you gagged softly.

"Fuck, sorry, sorry," he pants, though his grip on your hair doesn’t slacken. He looks down at your face, your eyes watering slightly from the depth of his cock in your throat, your lips glistening with his spit. 

The sight completely breaks his remaining restraint.

He pulls away from your mouth with a wet, sticky pop. 

Before you can even stand up, Travis grabs you under your armpits, moving your body off the floor with effortless, terrifying strength. He spins you around, slamming your front flat against the bookshelf.

"Lean down." he orders roughly, his voice trembling with an overwhelming urge to possess you.

You place your hands flat against the wooden shelves, knocking a small stack of paperbacks to the floor as you bent over, pushing your hips back towards him. You feel his large, rough hands grab the hem of your jeans and underwear, sliding them down past your thighs in one violent, impatient motion. The cool air of the library hits your bare ass, but a second later, the intense, radiating heat of Travis’s body presses flat against your back.

He reaches down between your legs, his thick fingers finding your dripping, soaked folds. He spreads your own slick juices all over your clit and down across his aching, throbbing cock. 

You whimper loudly, your fingers digging into the wood of the shelf until your nails click against the varnish.

"You’re so fucking wet for me," Travis whispers in your ear, his teeth sinking into the sensitive meat of your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, fuck me. Put it in." you cry out, your voice echoing softly in the dark, empty aisles. 

"I’m going to ruin you right here," he growls.

He guides the thick, pulsing head of his cock against your soaking wet entrance and with one brutal, heavy thrust of his hips, he buries himself completely inside you.

The size of him stretches you wide, filling you so well that a loud, high-pitched scream left your throat. Travis immediately slams his large hand over your mouth, muffling the sound as he pins your upper body down against the shelf.

"Shh... quiet, baby. Remember where we are," he whispers, a wicked smirk in his voice, even as his breath hitches from the tight, crushing warmth of your pussy gripping his lenght. "God, you’re so tight."

He begins to move, pulling nearly all the way out until only the tip remains, before slamming back into you with a heavy, wet thud.

The raw, explicit sound of his thighs hitting against your bare ass cheeks echoes loudly through the classic novels section. He doesn’t pace himself. He fucks you with a feral, frantic speed, his heavy body battering against yours over and over again.

Every single thrust pushes you forward against the shelf, the books shifting and scraping against the wood. You bite down hard on his palm to keep from screaming out as his cock hits your cervix repeatedly, sending waves of intense, hot pleasure straight to your core. 

The friction is incredible, the heat building between your legs until it feels like you are going to combust.

"Look at how you’re taking it," Travis pants, removing his hand from your mouth to grip your waist, his thumbs digging into your hips to hold you steady while he absolutely hammers himself into you from behind. "Look at what a good little slut you are for the ex-con. You love this dirty shit, don’t you?"

"Oh God, Travis." you sob out, no longer caring if anyone hears you. Your head rolls on your shoulders, your vision blurring with tears of pure pleasure. You arch your back, tilting your pelvis up to give him deeper access, your wet walls clamping down around his thick dick with every single stroke.

"Fuck, you’re squeezing me so hard," Travis groans, his pace becoming completely erratic, harder and faster, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. 

He grabs your hips, turning you around easily. You quickly wrap one leg around his hips, and your arms around his neck, not wanting to be apart from him a second longer.

He grabs under your leg, keeping you in place as he slides inside you again.

Your moans and uneven breaths mix together as your faces get closer. He kisses you messily while his hips trust against you in an uncoordinated rhythm now.

 "I’m so close. I’m gonna come inside you. I’m gonna fill you up right in the middle of this fucking library."

The announcement, delivered in his rough, vulgar tone, triggers something deep inside you. Your internal muscles contract violently as a massive, shattering orgasm rips through your body. You shake all over, your hands losing their grip on his neck as your head falls back, your throat letting out a strangled, breathless cry of release. He wraps his arm around to help you to keep your balance.

Feeling your pussy pulsing violently around his cock, Travis lets out a loud, feral roar. 

He delivers three more brutal, bottoming-out thrusts, burying himself as deeply as physically possible inside you, and freezes. His entire body locks up, his muscles turning rock-hard against you as he shoots his thick, heavy torrent of hot semen deep into your womb. He holds himself deep inside you, his hips twitching as he pumps load after load into your pulsing body, groaning loudly against the back of your neck.

For several long seconds, the only sound in the library is the ragged, heavy breathing of the two of you.

Slowly, Travis pulls his cock out of you with a soft, wet sound. A mixture of his cream and your own juices immediately begin to drip down the inside of your thigh. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely stand, but Travis’s strong arms are right there, catching you and pulling you flush against his chest.

He looks at you, and his fingers brush your hair behind your ear.

You both chuckle nervously and you bite your lower lip.

 He opens his mouth to say something, when the front door bell chimes.

“Hello?” the voice of a young guy sounds through the walls of the library. 

Panic hits both of you at the exact same time. In a single second, you go from pure ecstasy to a desperate race against the clock. 

Between muffled whispers and hushed curses, you both start dressing at lightning speed behind the very last bookshelf. Travis yanks up his boxers and the heavy trousers of his uniform in one violent tug, while you frantically adjust and smooth out your own clothes, praying to God that you don’t look completely wrecked. 

You quickly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand to clear away any trace and take a deep, shaky breath, desperately trying to piece back your professional composure.

"Yes, I’m coming!" you call out, your voice a little higher than usual, as you step out of the dark aisle and into the bright light of the main counter.

Waiting there is a young college student with a heavy backpack slung over his shoulder and a face that looks like he hasn’t slept in three days. He’s holding a crumpled piece of paper with the name of an economics manual. 

With your hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline, you smile at him as if absolutely nothing happened, look up the book in the system, and guide him to the correct section.

As you are handing the book to the student and checking it out, heavy, familiar footsteps announce Travis walking out from the back of the library. He already has his jacket zipped up and his hair lazily thrown into place with his fingers, but the expression on his face is one of pure satisfaction.

He walks slowly toward the exit, passing right by the front desk. He stops for a brief second, leaning his broad frame against the wooden counter, and locks his dark, deeply amused eyes onto yours. The college student doesn’t notice a thing, far too focused on shoving the heavy textbook into his backpack.

Travis leans in just a fraction closer, winking at you with a broad, lazy grin, and whispers in a tone meant only for you:

"Thanks for the date. See you tomorrow at the non-date."

You roll your eyes dramatically, pretending to be thoroughly annoyed while your cheeks burn a bright, furious crimson. 

But as you watch him push open the heavy glass door and disappear into the cool night air, you can’t stop a smile from breaking across your lips.

⭑ para juani juanita juana⭑

⋆⭒˚.⋆ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated !! thank you for reading. ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was a day where both the kitchen and the dining room were so slammed you could barely breathe. Working like crazy left a huge pile of trash by closing time. Travis came to pick me up every single day no matter when I finished, and I hated keeping him waiting. To wrap up closing quickly, I split the chores with my coworkers and was helping throw out the kitchen trash when my own work was done.

As I was rushing back and forth through the back door, I saw something moving in the dark. Someone was standing there awkwardly, and I squinted to get a better look at the shape. Once I focused, a familiar face I could never easily forget came into view. It was Jake. He slowly walked out of the shadows with a terrified look on his face, and a sudden rage consumed me—a rage so intense you'd never believe I was a woman who used to feel guilty and wish for his happiness.

When he called my name, I answered by violently slamming down the trash bag I was holding. He grabbed me as I tried to ignore him and walk past. He was a pathetic man who bowed down to everyone else, but even so, I didn't have the strength to overpower him. When I tried to scream, he frantically begged me to give him just a moment because he had something to say.

Having spent years dating such a clueless, pathetic man, I found myself going weak at the sight of him. Once he let me go, I snapped at him to hurry up and state his business. He had never shown me mercy, but I decided to give him a chance. I figured our past together at least earned him that much. Trembling violently, Jake pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and played an audio recording.

"I guess you don't appreciate the fact that you're still breathing with all your limbs intact, courtesy of her."

The recorded audio played a voice that unmistakably belonged to Travis, threatening Jake. It revealed that everything Jake had gone through was a trap Travis had set from the very beginning, even manipulating Jake into breaking up with me in the harshest way possible. Everything was recorded.

Why on earth did Travis start doing this? Timeline-wise, it was all too strange. He had asked me if I was seeing anyone after Jake fell into debt. Was everything he did to me a lie? Before I could even guess a reason, Jake spoke up.

He told me he still loved me and begged me to forgive him for having no choice but to leave, and I could see what the word 'sincerity' actually meant in his eyes. But what hit me right after was a crushing sense of betrayal, an overwhelming dread, and pure terror from learning the true nature of the man I had loved so passionately.

"Maybe it's just an empty threat. Travis might not actually be that scary of a person."

"Are you seriously taking his side right now? You think you'll be fine when he gets bored of you?"

'When he gets bored of you.' Those words completely broke me. Jake asked if I sincerely loved him, and I couldn't answer. To be honest, I felt a much bigger, deeper emotion for Travis than the love I had felt for Jake, but I couldn't open my mouth. I was a pathetic woman. There was no other word for it. This wasn't out of consideration for Jake's feelings either. It just felt like it would hurt my pride to admit I loved Travis the exact moment his sincerity was being questioned. I realized that all the things Travis had provided that made me feel so comfortable were never ordinary. Even though nothing had happened yet, it felt like someone was holding a knife or a gun right to my head.

Jake kept calling Travis a 'psycho' instead of his name, arguing that he might do who-knows-what to me just like he threatened him, and tried to convince me to run away far away together. He was sweating bullets, making it obvious how terrified he was of the situation. I couldn't do anything. I was in a deeper despair than when I first got Jake's breakup text. I thought I had grown stronger as an adult, but it felt like just two failed loves had turned me into a pathetic coward. Had I just been too easy? I had fallen so deeply in love with Travis in such a short amount of time.

As if the goddess of fate was urging me to make a choice, the sous chef's loud, booming voice welcoming Travis echoed from inside the restaurant. Coming back to my senses, I looked across at Jake; he was shaking even harder, his face pale as a corpse. Snapping out of it first, I hid him, promising to meet him right here tomorrow, an hour before my shift ended. By a hair's breadth, I managed to greet Travis right before he opened the back door and stepped out.

"They working you too hard, shorty? Want me to take care of it for you?"

The fact that his casual joke sounded completely serious terrified me so much I almost screamed. Travis naturally pulled me close and showered the top of my head with kisses. I couldn't tell if the goosebumps breaking out over my skin from his breath were from raw excitement or sheer terror; my entire body was stiff with tension. Even when I told him my hands and clothes were dirty from the trash, he didn't care, lightly caressing my earlobe and neck. The more I realized this wasn't a sexual advance but just a pure display of affection, the more devastated I felt. I got terrified that he had noticed something, and I only managed to escape after acting cute and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Travis smiled softly at my reaction, but that smile, which would usually look adorable, was absolutely terrifying.

We went back to his place together, showered like usual, and got into bed. Travis naturally started touching me and kissing me to set the mood, but I used his own consideration against him, turning him down by saying I was exhausted. Travis smacked his lips a couple of times, gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, and said goodnight. In the dim bluish dark, I could feel him staring intently at my face without closing his eyes. Feeling a suffocating fear like I’d committed an unforgivable sin, I tossed and turned pretending to sleep, only finding relief after turning my back completely away from his chest.

The next morning, Travis seemed to have left the house earlier than me. On the dining table sat breakfast takeout from my favorite spot near his place. I stared at it, debating what to do, before leaving it untouched, packing a light bag, and rushing to an ATM near the restaurant to withdraw a portion of the cash I’d saved up. I’d burned through all my savings before because of Jake, but thanks to living mostly on Travis's dime, the hefty balance left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I shook my head violently, trying to remind myself that Travis had just been playing games with me all this time. I walked into work acting normal, and then, a mere hour before clocking out—when there was no one around to tip Travis off about my escape—I abruptly told the manager I was quitting, grabbed my things, and bolted out the back door. Jake was waiting for me there in the exact same clothes as yesterday.

Seeing that I’d made the same decision, a faint color returned to his face. We rushed to the station, caught a train just like he planned, and arrived in Oceanside right before midnight. We intended to switch rides and head further south, but for better or worse, we found ourselves stuck the second we stepped off the train. Jake panicked, claiming he spotted someone who worked for Travis, and I fell into a total panic attack. I couldn't wrap my head around how we could get tracked down just three hours after running away.

Leading a panicked me, Jake checked us into a cheap motel nearby. His Plan B was to move like ghosts, using nothing but cash.

In that tacky room lit by the flickering neon sign outside, we faced each other and had our first real conversation in a long time. While Travis was treating me like royalty, Jake’s ordinary life had been completely ruined. He’d lost the woman he planned to marry right before his eyes, got cleaned out of all his money, and was forced to abruptly uproot his life. Travis told me he’d wiped Jake’s debt clean, but that was a lie. It might have been chump change to Travis, but it was a massive debt to regular people like us, and he’d left a chunk of it on purpose. Jake claimed it was payback for the day I talked back to Travis after we’d slept together.

Jake said his body was broken from working multiple grueling jobs just to scrape the money together. Hearing how bad he had it, I couldn't bring myself to be completely honest when he asked how I’d been doing. He knew I’d become Travis’s girl, but he clearly had no idea how cherished I was. I decided to give him a mix of truth and lies, telling him I’d been heartbroken for a long time before finally giving in and dating him.

The moment the words left my mouth, Jake lunged in to kiss me. When I pushed him away and rejected him, he looked genuinely shocked. He was clearly under the delusion that I was still in love with him.

Even if my love with Travis had been a total sham, there was no way I could sleep with an ex-boyfriend whom I only associated with painful memories the second we reunited. On top of that, Jake fell short of Travis in every single department. Back when I didn't know any better, I was blinded by love and thought his inflexible traits were charming, but now that my eyes were wide open, he held zero appeal to me, both as a person and as a man. All I felt for him was pity and sympathy. Holding his hand was just a survival instinct, driven by fear and a sense of shared trauma, but Jake didn't get it. He tried to pull me into a tight embrace again, but when I rejected him a second time, the sweet guy from my memories vanished, leaving only a bitter man dripping with an inferiority complex standing before me.

The absolute worst part wasn't Jake frantically apologizing after seeing how terrified I was. It was me. His forceful attitude triggered the exact same primal dread I felt around Travis, and at the same time, I found myself miserably missing Travis. Jake kept apologizing, shifting back into the familiar version of himself, but I knew things had gone terribly wrong. I made it crystal clear that I had no feelings left for him. Our time was done, this wasn't some romantic elopement, and the only reason I followed him was out of survival and a sense of loyalty to him for telling me the truth. Jake went completely silent.

The next morning, I immediately booked a separate room to get some space from him. Jake insisted that we needed to share a room to save money since we didn't know how long we'd be on the run, but having seen his rock bottom, I wouldn't budge. I told him flat out that if he couldn't respect my boundaries, I couldn't go anywhere with him. When I went as far as offering to split some of my cash so we could go our separate ways, he looked deeply wounded, but I wasn't in a position to coddle his feelings.

He begged me, saying I was the only person he had left to trust and that he couldn't lose me, and honestly, the feeling was mutual. We reached an agreement and became partners in the same boat again. But it didn't take long to realize my choice was a fast track down the wrong path. Following Jake's lead, we spent a few days laying low inside the motel rooms. Then, early one morning before sunrise, we were heading to a diner to finally grab a bite to eat.

From a distance, a group of kids who looked like trouble were walking our way. Among them was an awkward boy who looked completely out of place in that crowd. The boy, who kept catching my eye, bumped into Jake and made a clumsy attempt to snatch his wallet. The move was so sloppy that Jake noticed it instantly.

The real disaster happened right after. Jake grabbed the kid—who was way smaller than him—by the scruff of his neck and slammed him onto the pavement. The boy’s crew abandoned him and sprinted off, and since Jake didn't have the guts to chase them down, he took out his anger on the helpless kid on the ground, throwing brutal punches.

Terrified, I rushed over and tried to pull Jake off him. The boy sobbed, begging for mercy, saying his friends made him do it and that it was his first time, but Jake’s eyes were burning with an unquenchable rage. The boy had no way of knowing that money had ruined Jake's life, or that he was now living off pure bitterness where every single penny mattered.

Anyone could see the kid was brand new to this and didn't belong in this world. He was scrawny, looking tiny even compared to Jake, who wasn't exactly big himself. Even though he’d done wrong, it was an attempted theft, and the kid looked so pitiful that I felt we could afford to show some adult grace.

I barely managed to pull Jake away, and feeling bad for the kid, I reached into my pocket to hand him a few bucks. But Jake lost it. He snatched the five-dollar bill right out of my hand and screamed at me, telling me if I had money to blow, I should be spending it on him. In the end, the boy got nothing but a beating and limped away into the dark. Watching Jake anxiously scan his surroundings after realizing how loud he’d yelled, a profound, unprecedented helplessness washed over me.

Jake and I kept dodging people’s eyes, hiding out as we moved further and further away from LA. We never slept together. While Jake respected my wishes at first, as time passed, he started showing his resentment more often and more openly. It took exactly one month for Jake’s patience to completely run dry.

Disturbed by a sudden presence, I blinked my eyes open to find Jake looming over the edge of my bed with cold, menacing eyes. He muffled my scream with his hand, growling in my face. He demanded to know why I’d slept dozens of times with the monster who put him through hell for a year, but wouldn't let him touch me.

Our argument quickly escalated into a violent struggle, and the moment my nails accidentally scratched his cheek, a suffocating, icy silence fell over the room. I could feel his bloodshot eyes glaring at me through the darkness, and for the first time in my life, I felt a genuine threat to my survival. By the time I snapped out of it, I had already shoved him away and bolted out of the motel barefoot. I sprinted across the cold motel tiles and out onto the rough asphalt, running like a maniac.

It was the dead of early morning, the streets were dead, and there was nobody around that sketchy motel. Just as I was about to scream for help with zero options left, Jake’s rough, unforgiving hand grabbed me from behind, and tears instantly burst from my eyes. I couldn't think about what would happen to me next or what I should do right that second. But in that terrifying moment, the person I desperately wanted to see more than anyone else was, absurdly, Travis.

"You might wanna take your hands off her."

Like he belonged there all along, like we’d run right into his hands on purpose. Travis stepped out from around the corner, exhaling a thick cloud of vapor from his vape. Seeing the man I’d spent a month running from standing there acting completely casual was terrifying, but bathed in the red neon light of the motel sign, he looked downright sinister. I forgot how to breathe from the shock, and Jake was frozen too. The familiar sweet scent of his vapor lingered in the air.

Travis pulled out his phone and made a quick call. He stood there puffing on his vape, locking his eyes dead onto mine until a black sedan pulled up in front of us a few moments later. I couldn't read a single thing behind those dark eyes, which terrified me, but on some level, I felt a wave of relief. When the car stopped, he popped the back door open and told me to get in. Obviously, I didn't have a choice, but the polite way he escorted me into the vehicle made me feel under the illusion that I actually had a say.

The moment I quietly climbed in, Travis slid in right next to me, leaving Jake stranded alone on the street as the car sped off. As we drove, I didn't give a single thought to my ex-boyfriend whom I’d completely lost feelings for. I was just trapped between the terror of what would happen to me now and the twisted relief I felt the second I saw Travis.

The car pulled up right in front of my old apartment. Travis stepped out first, and before I could follow, he told me to stick my feet out. It was only then that I realized my feet were completely torn up from sprinting barefoot, and a delayed wave of pain hit me. He gently brushed the dirt off my soles and slipped his own sneakers onto my feet. His shoes were way too big for me, flopping around with every movement. The car sped off the moment we got out, and Travis started heading up toward my place like he owned the joint. Even though I knew exactly where he was going, I swallowed the sharp pain in my feet and hurried right behind him, terrified of losing him.

I’d lost my keys during the month on the run, so even though I was the tenant, I couldn't open the door. But Travis casually pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it effortlessly, letting me step back into my home for the first time in a month. The things I had abandoned were still safely in Travis's hands. The moment I turned around, finding comfort in the familiar air, I saw Travis standing right outside the threshold. He didn't step inside; he just stood at the door, facing me.

As I walked closer, he gently took my hand and pressed the key into my palm. Looking at the keychain, I finally realized it was the spare key I’d given him a long time ago.

"Rent's due tomorrow, but don't worry about it. I already paid up a few months in advance 'cause I knew you were coming back."

When he told me he’d grab the bags I left at the motel after he finished work tomorrow, I couldn't find a single word to say. Hearing him tell me to get some rest because I must be exhausted made me feel incredibly sad for some reason. Every single word out of his mouth was dripping with consideration for me. A crushing wave of regret over what I’d done hit me, and tears started pouring down my face like a broken faucet. The old Travis would’ve held me tight and wiped my tears, telling me not to cry, but now, he didn't move an inch.

"You mind giving me my shoes back? I mean, unless you're trying to keep them on."

I was the one who tried to cut him out of my life, yet now that he was systematically reclaiming his things and drawing a line, an unspeakable sadness washed over me. But I knew that even if I acted stubborn and refused to take off his shoes, it wouldn't phase him at all. I slipped the sneakers off and handed them over. He told me to get some good rest, closed the door, and I collapsed right there on the floor, sobbing for a long time. I felt so sorry to him, and I regretted everything. The terror I’d felt earlier and the stinging pain in my feet didn't matter anymore. If things were like before, he would’ve carried me all the way up those stairs and spent the whole night making sure I stopped crying. Remembering that just made me sink into a deeper depression.

I spent the entire next day curled up in bed, skipping meals and drifting in and out of sleep. The bright sun that lit up the room faded away, and darkness crept in again. When the doorbell rang, my heart skipped a beat thinking it was Travis, and I sprinted to the door without caring how a mess I looked. It was him, just like I thought, holding my luggage and food from my favorite spot.

When he mentioned he bought it thinking I hadn't eaten dinner yet, my eyes welled up. But when I asked if he’d eaten and he replied, "Yeah, already ate with someone else," my heart completely sank. Before I ran away, he always had dinner with me, and on the rare days he couldn't, he always hit me up first to let me know.

Travis sat by quietly, waiting for me to finish eating. I forced myself to swallow the food, trying my hardest not to cry while stressing over how ugly and unwashed I must look to him. The second I finished, he stepped in to clean up the table and even brewed my favorite herbal tea. He navigated my apartment with total ease and comfort, making me feel like a guest in my own home.

We sat across from each other with the steaming mugs of herbal tea between us. Travis rubbed his face and started talking, almost like he was confessing a sin. Unlike Jake, who only cared about his own voice from the jump, Travis actually apologized first for not being straight with me from the beginning. He added that he’d completely get it if I didn't believe a word he was about to say.

Travis told me that after meeting Jake a few times regarding the money, he realized the guy wasn't right for me. He said he loved me too much to just look the other way, and he wanted to get him out of the picture by any means necessary. He wrapped up by saying it looked like Jake had hopped a train and split, then went quiet, almost like he was waiting for my reaction and judgment.

I felt an intense self-loathing for betraying a man who had loved me so consistently. Shame, guilt, and regret choked me up until I couldn't stop crying, and the moment a desperate "I'm sorry" slipped from my lips, Travis finally pulled me into his arms and rubbed my back just like the old days.

He told me he was only human, so it was gonna take some time for his wounds to heal. But he said he still loved me, and while his love brought a massive wave of relief, it also made me feel incredibly pathetic. I wanted to do whatever it took to make things right with him; if I could turn back time, I would’ve done anything. I had been so blind. I had to go all the way to the edge of the earth just to realize his arms were the most comfortable, sweetest paradise. I hated myself for being so stupid that I had to ruin everything just to figure that out.

Travis, who hadn't done a single thing wrong, actually asked if I could give him a chance to earn my trust back. He suggested we move in together, and I happily agreed on the spot. Without even unpacking the luggage he’d brought over, I walked out the door with him right then and there.

Just like that, I was back in his familiar house, waiting for him to come home, eating meals together, and sleeping in the same bed. For over a week, the only physical contact we shared was quick kisses and warm hugs—so clean that the days we used to sweat and make love like wild animals felt like a total dream. I felt safe, but I was also deeply confused. Travis, who used to be so passionate in bed, no longer seemed interested in initiating anything. I assumed I was slowly regaining power and leverage in the relationship, which made me feel satisfied. I felt happy with his patience and grateful that whatever charm I possessed still worked on him.

Travis was always the one to light the fire in our relationship, but since I came back, the roles were completely flipped. The pace of our healing felt incredibly slow, and honestly, I really liked it that way. But the realization that I couldn't keep living like this hit me the moment I started noticing him around other women. I don't know if I was being arrogant or just plain stupid a month ago, but attractive women kept entering my peripheral vision whenever I looked at him. I knew they were just acquaintances or business partners. Travis flaunted my existence to everyone and drew a hard line with them. But obviously, no woman in her right mind would pass on a guy who was that handsome and smooth.

While attending his friend's birthday party, I happened to overhear a conversation in the restroom between some girls who had their eyes on Travis. They weren't badmouthing me; they were just dripping with envy, but it didn't make me happy anymore. At the end of the day, a boundary is something you can just cross. Travis was the one who drew the line, which meant he could erase it whenever he wanted to, and there was no way a girl like me could stop him. The realization that my permanent spot by his side wasn't maintained by my own charm or worth, but entirely by Travis's love and patience, was enough to drive me insane. When I walked out of the restroom and back to his side, he paused his laughing conversation with his boys to immediately check on me, noticing I looked pale. I tried to tell him to stay and enjoy the party, but he wouldn't budge, insisting we head home together. For the first time in my life, his overwhelming love felt suffocating. He was too good of a man, and I didn't deserve him. I had to do whatever it took. I desperately wanted to fix this imbalance in our relationship; I couldn't lose him. The moment we stepped inside the house, I threw myself into a kiss, using my whole body to show him I wanted to sleep with him.

"What's wrong, beautiful? Did that asshole spike your drink or something?"

He was smiling, but he didn't look shaken in the slightest, which made me feel sick to my stomach. "No, it's nothing like that. I just really want you." I tried my best to sound casual, but I couldn't hide the tremor in my voice. "Seriously, what's wrong? You've never acted like this before." He wrapped an arm around my waist and gently pulled me closer, and I let myself be drawn into his embrace without resisting. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that it was all because of my insecurities, or beg him not to abandon me. I was terrified that if I looked too pathetic, he might eventually grow tired of me.

"I love everything about you, but do you only love me for my body?"

He put on such an exaggeratedly pitiful expression that I couldn't help but laugh. The moment I did, he broke into a grin and laughed along with me.

Before I knew it, a single word from him could send me soaring to heaven or plunging straight into hell. The balance in our relationship had been reversed a long time ago, and I was the only one who hadn't realized it. Travis pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

"I know I sound pathetic saying this, but I'm still hurt by what happened. I want to see how much you really want me."

I swallowed hard. When I asked what he wanted, he told me he wanted to watch me use one of the toys on myself while focusing entirely on him. It was a pretty jarring request, but I was too desperate to say no. I stripped off every piece of clothing and sat on the bed, leaning my back against the headboard, while Travis sat on the couch across from me, stripped down to just his sweatpants.

He leaned back on the couch, almost lying down, and started rubbing himself through the fabric. Knowing exactly what was hidden underneath that cotton got me instantly turned on. I spread my legs shamelessly in front of him and started touching myself. He stared down my body with a completely blank expression, and trapped between a wave of arousal and intense shame, I locked my eyes onto his well-built chest and abs, running the vibrator to get myself slick and wet. It was tough since I hadn't done this in a minute, but Travis just silently staring me down was a massive trigger.

I eventually rode out a powerful orgasm right in front of my boyfriend in that vulnerable position, but Travis ordered me to keep going. I immediately started on round two. He had to know I wasn't faking it, but my second climax wasn't enough to satisfy him; he told me to keep going. Terrified of losing the chance he was throwing me, I kept pushing through the painful waves of overstimulation, unable to stop. My thighs were shaking uncontrollably and my clit was throbbing, but my walls kept twitching, begging for more.

I started crying ugly tears again. I wanted him to see my sincerity, and I wanted him to fix this unquenchable fire inside me. I was a woman who couldn't even function without him. 'How pathetic do I look right now, crying while playing with myself?' I hated the thought and wanted to choke back the tears, but the sheer emotional weight was too much to handle.

Suddenly, Travis was standing right over me. He wiped away my tears and leaned down to kiss me. The vibrator, soaked in my fluids, slipped out of my hand and buzzed uselessly on the floor. He ran his fingertips over my hyper-sensitive spot, giving it a light flick before sliding two thick fingers deep inside me. Everything he did was so intense that groans kept slipping out, but his deep kiss swallowed my breath and my noises whole. The orgasms started hitting faster and faster, completely short-circuiting my brain in a way that self-pleasure never could. My entire body was reacting perfectly to his touch.

His fingers inside me felt like pure bliss, but I wanted him to feel good too. I wanted the bigger high my body remembered. I reached down to stroke his length, begging him to put it inside me, but instead of looking hyped, Travis actually looked kind of stressed. I panicked, thinking he didn't want to sleep with me, and the fear must have shown all over my face. Travis apologized for killing the vibe, locking his eyes onto mine, and confessed that he just realized he didn't have any condoms. He claimed that after I dipped, he got so mad that looking at the condom boxes in the drawer pissed him off, so he threw them all out.

He kissed my hand, apologizing again, whispering that he’d work hard to make sure I got mine using his hands and a dildo. From the very start up until now, he was adapting entirely to me. I couldn't find a single reason left not to love a man who loved me this unconditionally, without demanding anything in return.

I gripped his sweatpants and boxers, yanking them down in one motion, exposing his rock-hard dick. Travis looked caught off guard, but I buried my face against his shaft, licking my way up, begging him to just put it in because I didn't care. He tried to hold me back, but the moment I pinned him down onto the mattress and climbed on top, he stopped resisting. I guided his thick, rigid head inside me, and just like that, we had sex without a condom for the very first time.

The unfamiliar skin-to-skin sensation was overwhelming, sending us crashing through multiple intense peaks. Every time he came deep inside me, his warm cream mixed with my slick fluids, keeping things perfectly lubed. We rode each other like wild animals, making up for the entire month we’d lost, until the exhausting marathon finally caused me to pass out.

When I finally blinked my eyes open, a mountain of plush pillows and cushions was propped up under my lower back and thighs. Travis was just walking into the bedroom. When I tried to sit up and winced from the muscle soreness, he flashed a bright smile and walked over, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "You were mumbling in your sleep all night about your back hurting. You feeling better now?" Along with his morning greeting, he explained the setup of the pillows, smelling like his signature vape scent. I just blushed, giving him a goofy smile. But as my brain cleared up, the realization that I’d so easily thrown away my lifelong values in the heat of the moment hit me. A sharp anxiety began to twist in my stomach.

Travis turned back toward the kitchen, exposing the long nail scratches I’d carved all over his back last night. He was still the exact man I loved, but separate from that love, the shock of demolishing my own boundaries was overwhelming. 'If I tell him I need to hit the pharmacy real quick, is he gonna judge me? Is he gonna start seeing me as some reckless girl?' I was becoming hyper-aware of his every move.

While he whipped up breakfast, I hopped in the shower and desperately tried to scoop out every last drop of his cream from inside me. After washing up, the only move left was to take Plan B, but I couldn't bring myself to just walk out the door while he was acting so completely casual. Travis and I sat side-by-side at the table. I kept getting this phantom feeling like something was leaking between my legs. I thought I was doing a good job acting normal, but Travis caught my vibe instantly and squeezed my hand tight.

"I'm really sorry about last night, beautiful. I messed up. Running out of condoms is on me, but I should have at least pulled out. It's just… you felt too good, I couldn't stop myself."

He reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Just relax, eat your breakfast, and we'll go to the pharmacy together, alright?" He joked that the meal took every ounce of his energy to cook, which immediately broke my tension and made me burst out laughing. It felt like he had superpowers, reading my mind completely, and honestly, I loved him for it.

If I were to ever start a family and needed a father for my kids, I desperately wanted it to be Travis—though a part of me felt he was too good for me. A little while later, I had to step out for a quick errand, and as I walked back, I saw a kid standing in front of Travis, who was waiting for me on the sidewalk.

It was the same little pickpocket Jake had brutally beaten. He’d filled out, his complexion looked way better, and he was rocking clean, sharp clothes, so I almost missed it, but it was definitely him. The boy noticed me too, adjusting his backpack. When I asked Travis if they knew each other, he just shrugged it off, saying the kid was from the neighborhood.

The boy gave me a polite bow, genuinely apologizing for what happened that day. He explained his family was going through it, and with his mom severely sick, they desperately needed cash. He’d let some bad influences fill his head with nonsense into doing something stupid, but Travis had stepped in and covered his tuition, living expenses, and even his mom's medical bills. I had no choice but to accept his apology with a warm heart.

It turns out the kids who abandoned him that day were actually low-level runaways tied to Travis’s crew. Once Travis caught wind of the kid's situation, he cut him loose from those bad elements and took care of him financially. The boy swore he’d never forget the favor and would pay him back, but Travis just ruffled his hair, telling him to shut up and go study. Travis looked a little embarrassed to be caught doing charity work in front of me, which I found incredibly adorable.

After the kid walked off, I asked Travis what made him want to help him out. He looked at me and said he knew straight up that what he did for a living wasn't clean or right. He argued that if there’s someone out there who still has a shot at a normal, clean life, you gotta respect that. His words touched me deeply. He truly was a good man, and I had zero doubt he’d make an amazing husband and father for someone. He loved me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he was way out of my league.

We settled back into our routine, with the only real change being that we ended up having raw sex more and more often. Travis kept acting like his usual self, but my body was craving him 24/7. Travis kept trying to be reasonable, saying taking the pill all the time wasn't good for my health and that we needed to use condoms, but after breaking my own rule once, I found myself chasing that raw connection even harder. He didn't seem like he was looking for a baby or trying to make things permanent, but I just needed that constant reassurance that he wanted me.

Then my period ran late. The day the pregnancy test flashed two bright lines, it felt like the sky collapsed on my head. I was positive I hadn't missed a single pill. Everything went dark. The thought that my reckless cravings might push him away paralyzed me. Even though getting an abortion or other options were on the table, I was too emotionally wrecked to think straight.

As I kept pacing in and out of the bathroom, breaking down into heavy sobs, Travis knocked on the door, gently asking what was wrong and if he could come in. I was too stunned to even hide the test, and I ended up spilling every single insecurity I’d been harboring right to his face, looking completely pathetic. I had completely surrendered myself to him. Travis was a truly perfect man, and I could never measure up to him. As I cried hysterically, begging him not to leave me, he just wrapped his arms around me, rubbing my back until the shaking stopped, telling me it was alright and that I must've been terrified doing this alone.

As I kept leaking tears and snot, rambling like an idiot, I could feel his chest vibrating against my shoulder—he was silently chuckling. I had no clue what he found funny, but his embrace felt too warm to pull away. He stroked the back of my head a few times, then pulled back to flash that beautiful signature smile I loved so much.

"Man… this was definitely not how I planned on doing this," he muttered.

He dropped down to one knee right there on the bathroom floor and pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket. I completely forgot I’d been crying ugly tears a second ago; my swollen eyes popped wide open. Travis let out a dry cough and started talking. He confessed he’d been carrying this box in his pocket every single day for a long time, even during the entire month I was on the run. He looked up at me and said I was the one who was too good for him, and even though he was still a flawed bastard, he asked if I’d do him the honor of marrying him as he popped the box open. A massive diamond ring—bigger than anything I’ve ever seen—shimmered brilliantly under the bathroom lights.

I said yes immediately, and we locked into a long, deep hug. He just leaned back, wearing a slow, satisfied smile.

*****

"She put in her notice an hour before closing and just walked out. You didn't know?"

That was the first thing Travis heard from the store manager when he arrived to pick up his girlfriend like usual. Honestly, he already knew something was off with her lately. Last night, every time he held her close, her heart was thumping like she had just committed a crime. Even when she turned her back to him in her sleep, her posture screamed that she was hiding something. Travis was too sharp to miss signs like that. He knew some shady business was going down, but he didn't move too early. To a man in his position, putting things back where they belonged was an easy fix. But hearing it flat out from someone else—that the girl he’d spent so much time shaping and molding had just packed up and walked away that easily—that hit his pride wrong. It genuinely irritated him.

Figuring out why this mess happened wasn't hard at all. There was only one reason his girl would bolt from the golden cage he’d built for her, and only one pathetic fool who would push her to do it.

For Travis, running a massive operation in the shadows meant tracking down his runaway girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend was a simple matter of time. The two idiots thought they were being clever using nothing but cash, but in his world, you don't keep a major enterprise running without being ten steps ahead of everyone else. Travis put a tail on them immediately, but he just sat back and watched the updates, holding his move.

He knew that on any level, a broken man like Jake wasn't even worth competing with. The fool trying to steal his girl wasn't worth a confrontation, but his girl running out on him like that? She needed to be taught a lesson for that disrespect. He wanted her to feel the weight of her mistake right in her chest and regret ever walking out on him.

Travis knew her way better than Jake ever did. He knew exactly what kind of traits made her stomach turn, and he was going to play that to his advantage. He needed her to see the reality of her choice and feel the sting of deep regret.

Travis called up a few young runaways from his crew and told them to go find some scrawny, innocent neighborhood kid who was struggling for cash. He used them to set up a carefully staged scenario on the street, and that idiot Jake took the bait perfectly, throwing away the last bit of sympathy she had left for him.

Getting live updates on Jake turning into a complete emotional wreck, Travis casually pulled the strings, orchestrating the environment and pressure around the runaway couple to slowly suffocate them. Mentally breaking a weak man like Jake and running him into a wall was far too easy. After a month of letting the situation simmer, he walked right up to her to collect.

The girl he loved was incredibly fragile. He didn't even need to use muscle or put a scare on her like he did with others; she was just that soft. Travis found it fascinating watching her completely fall apart in front of him. Looking at her just made his mischievous side kick in.

The night they had unfiltered, raw sex for the first time was the same deal. Travis couldn't help but want to mess with her head every time he caught her anxiously reading his face. He intentionally conversed with girls he didn't care about just to watch her sit there and stew from the sidelines. The second she took the bait, he made her play with herself out of pure vanity, and even though he had fresh boxes of condoms sitting right in the drawer, he lied through his teeth just to get that intense connection. He figured he’d been patient enough to earn that luxury, and his girl, completely overwhelmed and naive as hell, believed the lie instantly.

Travis looked down at his sleeping girl, casually rubbing his length back to life. He stared at her opening, glistening with a sticky mix of his cream and her fluids, and used his fingers to sweep up his leaking fluids from her thighs, pushing it right back inside her. Watching her sleep like a fed apex predator, he slowly stroked himself until he was right on the edge, then slid his hips between her legs.

He barely pushed the head past her lips and let it fly. The thick, warm load painted her insides perfectly, and he reached over to grab pillows and cushions, stacking them right under her hips. His twisted possessiveness wanted her to trap his fluid inside her body all night long. The next morning, he put on a straight face and used a smooth apology to bury that dark desire like it never happened.

Travis kept playing chess with her mind, keeping her off-balance. She was supposed to be his girl, staying inside the perimeter he built, keeping quiet, and eating up the love he fed her. Keeping her in line was just entertainment to him. He was going to make sure she never got any bright ideas about running out on him ever again. What if she’d been a little smarter? He probably would've had to clip her wings to keep her close, but things didn't have to get that messy, which made the game even sweeter. Watching her blindly swallow the pills he handed her every day—never even questioning if it was a vitamin or a poison—made him love her even more. When she finally got pregnant and was sobbing with relief over the baby, Travis felt a massive wave of satisfaction.

But Travis wasn't playing savior to the whole world. The day the little runaway saga ended, the second that black sedan disappeared from view, Jake sprinted back to the motel room shaking like a leaf. The only thing running through his head was that he was completely ruined and needed to move. Travis hadn't said a word before driving off, but Jake's gut told him some horror movie business was about to drop. He regretted ever trying to play hero and fetch his ex-girl. He should've never even thought about it. When a powerful man treated you like an insect, the only thing you could do was crawl. But regretting it now didn't mean a thing.

He was throwing his clothes into a bag when the door burst open. A crew of hitters dropped him, beating him into a bloody pulp before dragging him out. The next morning, when Travis strolled into the motel to grab his girl’s things, the room was a total mess—blood splatters and signs of a violent struggle everywhere. Travis didn't even blink at the gruesome scene; he just calmly picked through the wreckage for her stuff. He was so dialed into her existence that picking her items out of the mess was effortless.

For a while, Travis kept pouring that heavy, suffocating affection onto his girl, gaslighting her as a pastime. After putting her to sleep one night, he took a ride out to a secluded warehouse he hadn't visited in a minute. Inside, a completely broken Jake was strapped to a chair. The man was soaked in sweat and had pissed himself from pure terror, making the whole room smell rancid. Travis walked in acting like he didn't expect to see him like this, playfully blocking his nose and tossing out degrading, slick remarks. The second Travis stepped into the light, all the hope left Jake’s eyes.

"Why do you keep trying to touch my girl? Do you actually love her that much?"

Travis kept wearing that calm, steady smile, and Jake felt a primal, animalistic terror that bypassed his brain entirely.

"Please, man, just let me go! I swear to God I'll never do it again! I'm so sorry!"

"I mean, she is beautiful, I'll give you that. Definitely a keeper."

"I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, sir! I'll stay dead, you won't ever see my face again! I'll disappear!"

"Gotta respect your taste in women, though."

Jake begged for his life, but Travis wasn't even listening. It wasn't a conversation—Travis was just talking over him, letting his own voice fill the room. Finally, Travis looked at him and said since he loved her so much, he was gonna give him a way to show that love for real. That’s when Jake felt a level of dread he didn't even know humans could experience.

Jake frantically screamed that he didn't want any of that, sobbing and apologizing for overstepping his lane. Travis dropped down to his level, looking him straight in the eye with a chillingly gentle expression.

"I said I'm gonna let you live. I'm gonna make it so you can live right on my girl’s finger as a diamond ring."

Jake’s face twisted from a desperate smile into pure panic as the words processed. Travis stood back up, and Jake tried to thrash around, trying to use his teeth since his hands and feet were locked down, just begging for a second to talk, but it didn't mean a damn thing.

The hitters who had worked him over before stepped back into the room, dragging his chair toward a setup that looked straight out of a back-alley surgery clinic. Seeing the medical tools, Jake started squealing like a pig. Travis casually turned around to leave, tossing a final line to his boys: "Keep the anesthesia low. Harvest everything worth a dollar, but take your sweet time with it." Jake realized those words meant his execution was gonna be the slowest, most agonizing torture imaginable, and he screamed until they shoved a gag down his throat.

The crew handled the butchering like a regular nine-to-five. They kept Jake breathing for days, harvesting him organ by organ while he lay there on the table like a living corpse. After multiple raw surgeries and forced recoveries, he didn't even look human anymore.

A few days later, Travis walked back into the warehouse. The guy running the tools looked up and flatly reported that all that was left to pull was the heart and the eyes. Jake was still conscious, and the cold words hit his ears perfectly. He couldn't move, but tears leaked out of his eyes, realizing Travis had designed this entire conversation just for him to hear.

Travis leaned down close to Jake’s ear, whispering softly.

"My bad, but I gotta be straight with you before you go out. I lied about one thing."

Jake wished he could just spit the gag out and beg one last time.

"I told you I was gonna turn you into a diamond ring, but truth is, I bought that ring a long time ago. And honestly? The shit we pulled out of you looked like some cheap pig guts. Didn't bring in much cash at all. You were never gonna make diamond status. But hey, I put the cash to some real good use in the neighborhood, so I'm sure you're going straight to heaven."

Travis patted his shoulder, turned around, and walked out without looking back, leaving Jake wishing he could just swallow his own tongue and end it. Travis took the money he made from parting Jake out and handed it right to the neighborhood kids who helped him close up his storyline. The cash Jake bled for saved a kid’s mom from the grave, and the future Jake lost bought a clean, bright path for the little boy he’d beaten on the street.

From the jump until the very end, Jake was nothing but a disposable tool used to make Travis look completely flawless.

The nickname seems to make him melt a little but he continues, “Nah, it’s not like— okay, it ain’t my fault. It’s them algorithms, pushing you to watch weird shit because you been scrolling too damn long and really, it’s mostly out of boredom and you ain’t even that horny anymore. But that’s how they reel you back in. Boom, crazy shit. Gets you curious and so you click and down the fucking rabbit hole you go.”

“I can’t say I’ve had that experience,” you hum but encourage him to go on, “but that’s okay. Tell me what you were looking at.”

He gets real shy then, “I’m not like, a pervert or anything, ‘kay? I don’t make it a habit of looking at fucked up shit, alright.”

“I believe you,” you say and you mean it. The sex you two have is great, wonderful and the best you’ve had but it isn’t exactly pushing boundaries or tiptoeing the line of kink. Maybe this conversation can lead it that way, however.

“It’s like, alright, shit, okay, it’s technically piss stuff but not like that golden showers, in the mouth weird stuff,” he blurts out, eyes getting wide.

“Wow,” you breathe because that is shocking, definitely not something you’ve ever even thought of. “What kind is it then?”

Teacake sighs, shakes his head a bit like he’s attempting to think before he speaks but really, he isn’t good at that, “Like bladder control stuff. Girls holding it in and squirming around and…” he swallows hard, “making these sounds and shit.”

That’s intriguing, but you have a ton of questions. You purse your lips as you think but he doesn’t wait, can’t have the air empty like that.

“It was weird at first, like, I wasn’t immediately like oh fuck yeah, super into this,” he rants, “I was like yo, what the fuck is this and it has this Japanese name for it but I didn’t even find that out ‘til later. Anyways, I was like what the fuck but I watched a little longer and it got more appealing and my dick got like, really fucking hard.”

You have to stop him so you can ask some questions, so you put your finger to his lips. Make those eyes you make at him when he just won’t shut up and he takes the hint. Nods softly at you as he waits.

“What do you mean by control?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“Like the girl drinks a ton of water and holds in her pee,” he explains, “which believe me, I know this shit sounds nuts but I just, I don’t know, man, I liked it.”

You hum, happy that he doesn’t continue rambling so that you can inquire further. “And what, the videos are just like the girl alone trying not to pee?”

“Yeah, some of them, a lot of them end up pissing themselves but there’s like other ones where the girls are getting fucked and they have to pee so bad so they’re like squirming and whimpering and shit and…”

You can feel him getting aroused under your calf which makes you laugh, you don’t mean to and it’s not in a cruel way but him just recalling this stuff has him sporting a semi.

“Don’t laugh, jeez!” he groans, tilting his head back.

“I’m not judging you! I promise,” you assure him, “It’s just cute is all. We can explore it, some other time. I’m just really tired today and I don’t have to pee.”

“We can?” he asks, smile returning to his face all bright and wide.

“Sure, Travie,” you lean over to kiss the corner of his lips, “I’ll try anything once for ya. Well… not anything, but lots.”

It gets forgotten for a while. You for sure thought about it for the days following the conversation but Travis didn’t bring it up again and eventually, you did forget about it.

That is until one day.

You woke up and as you were filling your water bottle, he made a comment about making sure you drink all of that. To which you responded that you always do. You’ve been making sure you stayed hydrated, unrelated to his confession.

You did drink it all while you were at work, but when Travis got home, he refilled it for you and brought it to you. Said again, “Make sure you drink all that, sugar.”

“What is up with you today?” you ask, totally oblivious to his true intentions.

“What’cha talking about? Ain’t nothing up with me,” he feigns innocence with his hands up, “just making sure you’re drinking enough.”

You narrow your eyes at him, wondering what he’s up to. But again it gets forgotten as the pair of you cook dinner, yet he’s insistent you keep drinking from the bottle. You feel like you’ve definitely gotten close to finishing it but every time you pick it up, there’s more water. But Teacake is real good at distracting you with his ranting and rambling.

Tells you all about his day and maybe every thought he had while you plate up for dinner. Continues through it and doing the dishes. It’s then you realize you’ve had a lot of water, because the running faucet has you wiggling a little in discomfort. So you say, “Excuse me, gotta pee. I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” he calls, hand wrapped around your wrist as he looks at you with those big hazel eyes. His blonde hair bobs with the quick movement of him turning to catch you. “Can you hold it for me?”

“Why the fuck do you want me to hold my—“ it hits you then. The realization that Travis has been giving you water all day for this purpose sets in and you giggle as the memory of that conversation floods in. “Oh… that’s why… alright. I’ll uh, try.”

This is going to be harder than you thought. Your bladder is absolutely full, not to a point of pain but slight discomfort. You have to wiggle your leg to find a bit of relief. “I’ll uh, finish up the dishes then.”

Travis groans lowly, puts his hands on your waist as he crowds you from behind. He presses his hips against your ass and kisses against the shell of your ear, “You gotta go real bad, huh? I bet it’s buggin’ you so bad, with the water running, just making you think about how bad you gotta go.”

“Mhm,” you manage out, pressing your thighs together as you struggle to scrub the pots and pans. You were so close to being done with the dishes. You could do it, but you were really wondering how you were going to manage holding it in. And wetting yourself was just not an option, not while you were in the kitchen. “It’s so bad, Travis. Like, genuinely, I don’t know if I can hold it.”

“Baby, babygirl, you can,” he growls against your ear, “I know you can do it for me.”

And you really want to, but it’s proving difficult. He seems to have done his research, his hand dips into the waistband of your pants and his middle finger finds your clit, with some adjustment. But he finds it, kisses against your ear as he rubs slowly against your clit before asking, “That helping at all? Reading about it, some say it helps but some of them say it can make it worse. If it’s making it worse, I’ll stop.”

The thought of him being so into this that he’s online reading about it makes your stomach flip. You love your boyfriend, you want to be able to fulfill any fantasy he has and you might be into this one. You’ll just have to wait and see.

“It’s helping,” you gasp out, squirming between his strong body and the counter. “Fuck, okay… yeah, that helps a lot.”

Travis exhales against you, you can hear the smile in it and even better, you can feel his growing erection against your ass. Which really, makes all of this so worth it.

“Good god, that’s fucking hot,” he mumbles out, “feeling you squirm like that, fuck.”

His voice sends shivers down your spine, always does but this context is a little different. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so desperate, so needy and it’s doing something to you. Makes you squeeze your thighs together for a whole different reason. You trap his hand between your legs and drop the sponge. “Bedroom, Travis, now.”

“Shit, fuck, yes! Okay,” he pulls his hand out from your waistband and rushes towards the bedroom.

You shake your head, waddling your way towards the bedroom and when you get there, Teacake is pulling his shirt over his head and making quick work of his pants. And god, does he look excited. So you let it slide that he practically abandoned you in the kitchen.

“Okay, how do you like want me? I feel like anything but on my back, I’m gonna immediately pee on you and I don’t know if that’s what you’re looking for or—“

“On your back is good, sugar. Want you to hold it ‘til you can’t no more,” he says, rushed, as he begins undressing you. He’s quick to undress you, throwing your clothes on the floor before spinning you and laying you back on the bed. You’re nervous to spread your legs, but he’s pushing the open and getting himself between them. Slaps the head of his cock against your swollen lips like he always does.

You inhale sharply, “Travis, I don’t wanna make a mess on the bed. That’s—“

“Shh, we’ll worry about that later, I gotta be in you like right fucking now, dear god. My dick is so fucking hard, baby. This is so fucking hot,” he rasps out, pushing the tip of his cock through your folds.

Your back arches from the sensation, the uncomfortable feeling in your bladder starts to dissipate momentarily. Travis circles the head of his cock around your entrance, inhaling sharply as he sees proof of how much this is actually turning you on. As he slips into you, the pressure on your bladder makes itself known again and you squeal, squirming a bit as he gets about half way inside.

“What?! What? Not good? Am I hurt in’ ya? I don’t wanna hurt ya, nobody said anything about that part hurting. I guess it makes sense,” he starts, so concerned as he looks down at you with those eyes.

You shake your head, rubbing at his side, “No, didn't hurt. Just hard to hold it.”

He likes that. He must, because he leans down and connects your lips in a feverish kiss. Then he smoothes his hands down your sides, sliding the rest of the way in. He huffs, “Fuck, you feel so good, sugar. That’s so fucking hot, tell me how you feel, wanna know what it’s like. Please.”

That manages to pull a giggle from you, “It’s… different. Uncomfortable but not that bad, kinda makes… well.” It’s your turn to get embarrassed.

“Well, what? Tell me, sugar.”

“It’s almost like, how it feels before I cum. Like the pressure is so intense,” you offer.

“That’s so good, fucking hell. Oh, yeah,” he moans out, working his hips in a slow but steady rhythm. And that does a lot to quell the pressure in your bladder, or maybe it’s just masked as a pressure you’re used to during sex.

Then Travis puts his hand over your bladder, pushes down on it as he fucks you slowly. Your eyes snap shut as you wiggle beneath him, whimpering from the feeling. It’s not pain, not really at all. It’s pretty euphoric even though it’s tortuous. Though, it’s sure taking a lot to not empty your bladder.

“S’that good, baby? Feel good?” he asks, voice in a tone that’s somewhat familiar but way more wrecked than you’re used to. You sure as hell would like to hear it some more.

You squirm some more, which makes Travis speed up his strokes, thrusts even harder.

You’re at a loss for words so you don’t answer him, not verbally. You try to nod but it goes unnoticed because you’re squirming so much. He keeps pressing on your bladder, watching you intensely with his lips parted as you whine, whimper and thrash beneath him. You have to focus, though. You can’t cut his fantasy short. So you look at him, distract yourself as you admire everything physically you love about Teacake.

First, his eyes. Big and round, full of expression at any given moment. Next up, his strong brows, furrowed in pleasure. Your eyes jump up to the grown out roots of his wild, bleached hair. Then down to his neck, where HOWDY is tattooed in likely, ballpoint pen ink. You swipe your finger down it, before resting your hands on his broad shoulders. Feeling them flex as he thrusts in and out. He opens his mouth to speak, and you don’t quite hear it but your eyes follow. Watching them move around the words. That gorgeous mouth, straight square teeth under those pink, plump lips that never stop running. His nostrils flare and that’s where you’re eyes come to next, skating that sharp slope. God, he’s really something else, you think. And it’s worked, you’re thoroughly distracted from the urge to pee.

Until Travis squeezes your side, where your bladder is at while his hips work relentlessly against your core. Reality hits you hard, the sound of your skin meeting fills your ears, along with Teacake’s horny rambling.

“Fuck, you’re squirming so much, shit— that’s, fuck that’s hot, oh God. You’re so good, just holding it in for me, fuck, god, shit, oh my god,” he rambles, voice wavering with how absolutely turned on he is.

And you can’t hold it much longer, really, you try to tell him so but he licks his fingers before pressing them to your clit and works them in circles, exactly how he knows you like. His other hand presses down on your bladder and you’re squealing, head thrown back as your spine arches. It happens, then. You actually piss on him. While he’s fucking you. And it’s timed so perfectly that you reach your climax at the same time. Perhaps from the relief. But it rushes through you like a giant wave crashing against the shore. Your hands find Teacake’s blonde hair, tugging on the tendrils as you seize beneath him.

“Oh, fuuuuck, oh, shit!” you hear him moan out, working you through your orgasm but he quickly moves his hands to grab onto your hips. Works quickly, pumping his cock in and out of you. Chasing an orgasm you’re sure isn’t too far behind.

Teacake pulls out, jerks over your stomach twice before he’s spilling out over it. Cums a lot. You watch in awe, chest heaving from how intense the orgasm you had was. And you’re happy you explored this with him.

He leans down to kiss you, deep and appreciative. You kiss back, though quickly you start to feel very gross and wet. So you push him back a little.

“How’s about we throw these sheets in the wash and hop in the shower?”

“That uncomfortable, huh?” he asks with an exhausted smile.

You laugh and shake your head, “That was amazing, but yeah, starting to feel gross. Hurry up, if you're lucky, I’ll tell you all about the fantasies I’ve been hiding.”