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°˖ ☢︎ HAZARD X GN!READER ☢︎ ˖°
A/N: I LOVEDDDD this request and I just had to do it, this is indeed a gn!reader but it can be whatever you want! Also @urlocaldesertdweller requested this!
Summary: hazards voice, and him just being a softy and Him using Scottish slang
What’s in this!: some suggestive part in this, I think like thing, mostly fluff, and I think this might be ooc but himbo!hazard, I make ONE bad joke, you and him are bffs with Suzie in this
☢︎ This man loves you so goddamn much, he likes making you feel good about yourself but unfortunately he does like putting you first instead himself meaning he does get hurt more often so please try and make him
☢︎ He has like so many nicknames for you and it’s insane
Likes for example: hen, Bonnie, lass, pretty thing, sweetheart, darling, babes, baby, and Bràmair (it’s a Scottish Gaelic word that can mean "lover", "sweetheart", "boyfriend", or "girlfriend")
☢︎ He’s such a gentleman for you, he’s always holding doors open for you, letting go first at anything and he just likes making feel like royalty, hell he throw his jacket over a puddle for you
☢︎ He knows you love his voice, you fold everytime you hear him talk to you and he knows it’s your weak spot
Like he’ll come up from behind you if you’re doing something like cooking or anything and talk to you with his head on your shoulder
And sometimes when he’s feeling phreaky (hehe) he’ll whisper something inappropriate in your ear and walk off like he didn’t do anything thing
☢︎ (I don’t know his canon height yet so please bare with me)
This man is TALLLL and he really really likes the height difference between the 2 of you, but he will fuck with you like he’ll put stuff in places you can’t reach or he’ll grab something you asked him to get a tall place AND HE’LL HOLD HIS ARM ABOVE HIS HEAD AND HE’LL SAY SOME ASS THING LIKE “aww What’s wrong pretty thing? Can’t reach?” He’ll give it to you don’t worry
☢︎ His heart melts when he sees you getting along with his friends and his dog
Actually when he first met you and he was surprisingly shy too talk to you that Suzie had to practice with him to get enough courage to talk to you
☢︎ Speaking of Suzie
You and her are the biggest bffs and hazard likes that you get along great with her and it’s warms his heart to see you both get along like he does
☢︎ The rest of the phreaks are really shocked at how hard he folds for you considering he’s runs a tight knit gang and that he’s slightly violent
And he’s surprised that you love his voice so much
☢︎ Fighting with each other usually ends with him apologizing first and after all that’s done he likes to pamper you with kisses and cuddles
☢︎ he very protective of you, I mean don’t get me wrong he knows you are fully capable of handling yourself but considering what he does for a living he gets scared something will happen to you when he’s gone off to a mission or something
☢︎ he can get jealous at times but not in like a “I saw you say hi to them now ur not allow to talk to anybody else except me” way but more so in a way that he’ll get jelly, thinks he’s being ridiculous, then it’s over
☢︎ he’s a girl dad
Sorry just felt like throwing that out there
☢︎ Overall you and him are a perfect pair and you both have each other’s backs no matter what and he loves you a shit ton and nothing can break the love that you guys have
A/n:
DAWG I LOVE THAT MAN SO MUCH LIKE AHRJEBSHDUEJA
anyways I hope you liked this sorry if I didn’t stay on request
But thank you for requesting!
#overwatch hazard#hazard overwatch#hazard x reader#overwatch x reader#overwatch 2#I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH
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Welcome to my FGO Cain and Abel Fan-Servant Masterpost! I hope you like overly detailed OC profiles, scroll at your own discretion lmao
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚❀ ⋆。˚❃
┊ ┊ ┊ ✿
┊ ┊ ❁⋆
┊ ๑ ┊
✾ ⋆ ┊. ˚.
˚✽
True Name: Cain and Abel
Servant Class: Avenger
Rarity: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: 16
ATK: 1953/12641 HP: 2183/14877
Grail ATK: 13838 Grail HP: 16309
Lvl.120 ATK: 16242 Lvl.120 HP: 19168
Attribute: Star Growth: Linear
Star Gen: 6.00% Star Absorption: 29
NP Charge ATK: 0.47% NP Charge DEF: 5%
Death Rate: 30.0%
Traits: Male, Humanoid, Servant, Weak to Enuma Elish, Divine, Animal Traits Servant, Moon
Quick: 3 hit Arts: 2 hits Buster: 4 hits Extra Attack: 6 hits
Quick Attacks: Cain and Abel rush the enemy, Cain holds the enemy in place as Abel attacks it
Arts Attacks: Cain attacks the enemies from a distance with stones and summoned crows
Buster Attack: Abel rushes the enemy and beats on them savagely while Cain tries to pull him back
Extra Attack: Cain cries out and rushes the enemy, Abel appears from behind him and stabs through both of them with his herding cane
Parameters
Strength: C Endurance: E-EX
Aglity: D Mana: C+
Luck: E- NP: A+
Passive Skills
Divinity C:
Increases own damage by 150.
Madness Enhancement (First Blood) A:
Increases own Buster performance by 10%.
Increases own Extra Card performance by 20% when Guts is activated.
Territory Creation (Wayward Wandering) A:
Increases own Arts performance by 10%.
Heals self by 100 when defeating an enemy.
Blood that Taints the Earth A+:
Increases own Critical Damage by 15% on Forest Battlefield, Hill Battlefield, Wilderness Battlefeld, Rocky Mountain Battlefield, Prairie Battlefield.
Curse of Cain A++:
Decreases own Debuff resistance by 20%, [Demerit]
Grants self Spreading Curse status. [Demerit]
(Increases Curse damage on self by 200%)
Active Skills
The Sins and Boons of Eve A+
Deals 2000 damage to self for 3 turns. HP cannot fall below 1 from this skill. [Treated as buff] (Demerit)
Grants self On-Attack-Activate buff for 3 turns.
(Charges own NP when attacking with Buster Cards)
Grants self On-Attack-Activate buff for 3 turns.
(Increase Defense for 3 turns when attacking with Arts Cards)
Clears all debuffs.
Level: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
NP+:| 1.5% | 5.5% | 6% | 6.5% | 7% | 7.5% | 8% | 8.5% | 9% | 9.5% | 10%
Defense+:| 5% | 5.5% | 6% | 6.5% | 7% | 7.5% | 8% | 8.5% | 9% | 9.5% | 10%
Cooldown: | 8 | 7 | 6
Unlocks after 1st Ascension
Mark of the Pariah EX
Draws attention for all enemies to self by 500% for 1 turn. Grants self Guts for 3 turns.
[Activating Guts status will not end turn.]
Grants self On-Guts-Activated buff for 3 turns.
(When Guts status is activated, inflict [Mark of Cain] status for 5 turns to enemy.)
Increase Attack for 3 times, 3 turns.
Level: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Revive with:| 500 | 550 | 600 | 650 | 700 | 750 | 800 | 850 | 900 | 950 | 1000
Attack+:| 30% | 32%% | 34% | 36% | 38% | 40% | 42% | 44% | 46% | 48% | 50%
Cooldown: | 9 | 8 | 7
Unlocks after 3rd Ascension
Raven Guided Burial A+
Increase own NP gauge.
Reduce all enemies NP gauge by 1.
Grants party Mental Debuff immunity for 1 time, 3 turns.
Increase party’s NP damage for 1 time, 3 turns.
Selects own NP Command Card’s type between Arts or Buster for 3 turns.
Level: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
NP+:| 20% | 21% | 22% | 23% | 24% | 25% | 26% | 27% | 28% | 29% | 30%
NP Damage+:| 10% | 11% | 12% | 13% | 14% | 15% | 16% | 17% | 18% | 19% | 20%
Cooldown: | 8 | 7 | 6
Noble Phantasm
Genesis of Envy
「 Death of the Brother, Origin of Sin」
Rank Classifcation Type Hit Count
A+ Anti-Army Sin Arts 5
Effect:
Remove all enemy’s Defensive Buffs. [Activates first]
Deal significant damage to all enemies. [Lvl.]
<Deals (100%+25%*N) extra damage>
N: Enemy [Mark of Cain]’s stack count, Max; 4 stacks.>
NP Level: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Damage+: 1200% - 1400% - 1600% - 1800% - 2000%
Overcharge Effect:
Chance to Instant Kill all enemies [Takes effect after damage].
Recover Own HP.
Charge: 100% | 200% | 300% | 400% | 500%
Heal+:| 1000 | 1500 | 2000 | 2500 | 3000
Death Chance+| 50% | 60% | 70% | 80% | 90%
Exactment of Envy
「 First Victim of Sin, Slaughtered Lamb」
Rank Classifcation Type Hit Count
[C]A+ Anti-Unit Sin Buster 5
Effect:
Remove one enemy’s Defensive Buffs. [Activates first]
Deal significant damage to one enemy. [Lvl.]
<Deals (100%+25%*N) extra damage>
N: Enemy [Mark of Cain]’s stack count, Max; 4 stacks.>
NP Level: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Damage+: 1200% - 1400% - 1600% - 1800% - 2000%
Overcharge Effect:
Chance to Instant Kill one enemy [Takes effect after damage].
Increase Attack for 3 turns.
Increase Critical Damage for 3 turns.
Charge: | 100% | 200% | 300% | 400% | 500%
Death Chance+: | 50% | 60% | 70% | 80% | 90%
Attack+: | 30% | 35% | 40% | 45% | 50%
Crit Damage+: | 50% | 62.5% | 76% | 87.5% | 100%
Bond 10 Reward:
Second Born Blood
When this card is equipped on Cain and Abel (Avenger),
Gain 20 critical stars and grant party Invincibility for 1 turn when they are defeated.
Description:
”Am I my brother’s keeper?”
In the years I was left to wander the earth, the question I had posed to the Lord continued to plague my mind. The ground onto which I had spilled my brother’s blood never bore fruit again. The curse etched into my soul burned as I beared the brunt of attempts on my life, only to be saved by it and live another day.
”Am I my brother’s keeper?”
For a time, I despised him. I loathed the searing sun and desolate ground, detested the stinging winds and wrathful flames. It must be his fault, the burden I bear. Why had the Lord favored him, when my offering was just as plentiful? If he hadn’t been a braggart, I wouldn’t have struck him dead!
”Am I my brother’s keeper?”
What a fool. He had done nothing but rejoice, yet I was blinded by envy. I had partaken in sin of my own volition, there was no one else to blame. This curse was my just deserts.
If I could turn back time, return to those blissful days before jealousy consumed me..
”Brother, Master is calling. Let’s not keep them waiting.”
Then I shall be my brother’s keeper, for as long as fate allows me.
Character Information:
The tragic brothers from the book of Genesis.
There’s not much to be said about this pair that hasn’t already been said, aside from how cruel it must be to now share a Spirit Origin with your killer.
Oddly, Cain seems to be the mild-mannered and polite brother, while Abel’s presence bears a menacing aura.
Approach them with caution.
Bond 1:
Height/Weight: 175 cm • 76.2 kg/160 cm • 60 kg
Origin: Biblical
Alignment: Chaotic Evil/Chaotic
Neutral
Genders: Male
”Thank you for having us, Master.”
”Master, may I strike Brother?”
”Oh Abel...”
Bond 2:
There were once a pair of brothers, the elder named Cain and younger named Abel.
Cain was a tiller, working the land, while Abel was a herdsman, tending to livestock. One day, they were commanded to make an offering to God.
Cain burnt the plentiful yield of his crops, and Abel the finest young of his flock. However, God only looked upon Abel’s offering with favor. God told the older brother it was for his own good, for his improvement
Envy, pride and wrath raged within Cain, that he had been rejected so callously. And when the brothers were next alone in his fields, the younger was struck dead.
And so God banished Cain, marked as sinner.
But that’s a story we all know, isn’t it?
Bond 3:
For in truth, what had it meant to strike someone dead, when death meant nothing to man yet? Cain knew not what he was doing when he attacked, simply acting on his basest urge to hurt out of being hurt. And from Abel’s death was born the sin of murder.
Perhaps the true curse he was inflicted with wasn’t the mark God gave him, but the overwhelming guilt that plagued him for the rest of his wandering days.
All he could think about was the life he had snuffed; the kind and caring soul surrounded by his herds. As he grew old, how would his brother have appeared if they still stood side-by-side? As his child was born, would he have been there to congratulate him? As he laid beneath the toppled bricks of his rooftop, was Abel there in the winds, rightfully laughing at the irony of his death by stone?
Oh, remorse was a heavy burden to bear indeed.
Bond 4:
○The Sins and Boons of Eve A+
Some interpretations say that while the brothers shared Eve as their mother, their fathers may have been different. Cain is sometimes believed to have been conceived through an affair, partners ranging from the snake that tempted Eve, to a fallen angel, to the devil himself. And it is this possible inhuman blood that leads to one answer as to why the older brother was capable of such sin.
○Mark of the Pariah EX
The curse placed upon Cain was one meant to make him suffer. The earth he once nurtured would never again offer its prize for his labor, and those who saw the mark upon his skin would know his nature. And perhaps it was mercy, or a twisted sense of justice, that God also made the mark one of protection; Cain would not die before his allotted time, unlike the life he so cruelly ended.
○Corvid Guided Burial A+
When Abel was struck down, Cain was at a loss. The death of man was a mystery to him, let alone one by another’s hand. It was then a Corvid landed on the ground. The bird sang a strange, sorrowful song as it scratched the ground, calling for the murderer to follow it. And follow he did, digging a deep hole to bury his brother in.
Though, Cain couldn’t understand why there were tears running down his face as he did.
Bond 5:
Genesis of Envy
「 Death of the Brother, Origin of Sin」
Rank: A+
Type: Anti-Army Sin
Range: 0~?
Target: N/A
While on the surface Cain appears to be calm and levelheaded, his sin follows him wherever he goes. There’s an urge that scratches underneath his skin; to kill his brother again, and again, and again. As long as Abel lives, Cain must forever hold back the instinct to strike him down. So instead, he takes out that pent up desire on the enemies he faces, tearing them down without regret or mercy. They will be his sacrificial lambs; anything to keep Abel safe.
Exactment of Envy
「 First Victim of Sin, Slaughtered Lamb」
Rank: A+
Type: Anti-Unit Sin
Range: 1~3
Target: 1 Person
The brothers are inextricably linked through their shared tragedy, each too weak to be summoned separately. It is Abel that causes their shared Spirit Origin to manifest as Avenger, but had they not been summoned together, Exactment of Envy would not be nearly as powerful without him being directly linked to the source of his vengeance. Even as murderer and victim, these brothers rely on one another, in a twisted way.
Unlock After Interlude:
Ahhh, he deserves to die. How dare he, how dare he, how dare he!
What had I ever done to deserve this?! Had I not been good? Had I not been dutiful? Had I not been kind? I only did what was asked of me! I only wanted to do right by the Lord, my God!
In the field that day...
Why, why, WHY!?
Why... Big brother...?
No.
You’re not my brother, are you? You’re nothing but a filthy animal in disguise, pretending to be an innocent lamb. Murderer, murderer, murderer, that must be all you are...
Then I suppose that means both us brothers died that day! Hah, hahahaAHAHAHAHA!
And yet... why am I still not satisfied?
Voice Lines
Possible VAs:
Cain- Yoshimasa Hosoya (for tone - Nezumi from No.6)
Abel- Akira Ishida (for tone - Zeref from Fairy Tail)
Summoned:
Cain: Good tidings Master, we are Avenger, our names are-
Abel: Murderer.
Cain: ...
Cain: ... Cain, my name is Cain.
Abel: Abel. Don’t expect much from us Master. We’re just dead weight after all.
Cain: Please don’t say that Abel, that’s not true.
Abel: Silence, you don’t deserve to speak.
Cain: ... *sigh*
Leveling
Level Up 1:
Cain: Look Abel, we’ve gotten stronger!
Abel: Am I strong enough to kill you yet?
Level Up 2:
Abel: Heh... Hehehehe...
Cain: As long as you’re happy.
Level Up 3:
Abel: Brot- Nevermind.
Cain: It’s okay Abel.
1st Ascension:
Cain: Huh? Th-these marks? Oh, they’re my... my...
Abel: Go on. Confess, monster.
Cain: ... From when I killed Abel, the proof of my sin. I pray they’re not too unsightly, Master.
Abel: Hmph...
2nd Ascension:
Abel: Ahhhh, agghhhh...
Cain: What’s wrong Abel?! Are you hurt?
Abel: Don’t touch me! I don’t need help from the likes of you!
Cain; Ah, right, Please disregard me then.
3rd Ascension:
Abel: Ahh, ahahahal Ohhh, I can feel it! Maybe I can finally kill you now, filthy sinner!
Cain: Use me however you see fit Abel, but please remember not to go overboard, I don’t want you to die with me.
Abel: As if you care! Murderer!
Cain: Exactly. Please don’t succumb and become a monster like me.
Abel: ...
4th Ascension:
Cain: Shhhh... Abel’s finally resting. Heh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen him so relaxed.
Cain: ....
Cain: When he’s asleep, I... I can’t help but pretend everything is how it used to be. Before I ruined it all. That maybe he’ll wake up and be the kind man I remember, and destroyed.
Cain: But it’s all wishful thinking in the end, isn’t it Master?
Abel: ...Bro... ther...
Cain: Shhhh, it’s alright, brother is here... I’ll make sure nothing ever happens to you ever again.
Battle
Battle Start 1:
Abel: If I die, I’m taking you with me.
Cain: Of course.
Battle Start 2:
Abel: Die, die, die, die...
Cain: Let’s kill them then.
Battle Start 3:
Cain: Keep your hands off my brother.
Abel: Shut up.
Skill 1:
Cain: Guh-!
Abel: It’s the least you deserve.
Cain: I-I know.
Skill 2:
Cain: Never again, never again, never again...
Skill 3 (Arts NP Selected):
Both: Aaaaagh!
Cain: I’m sorry, I’m sorry!
Skill 4 (Buster NP Selected):
Both: Aaaaagh!
Abel: It hurts, it hurts Brother!
Attack Selected 1:
Cain: Like this right?
Attack Selected 2:
Abel: Hmph.
Attack Selected 3:
Abel: Unsightly.
Attack Selected 4:
Cain: Leave it to me.
Noble Phantasm Selected 1 (Arts):
Cain: Feel the wrath of my cursed existence.
Noble Phantasm Selected 2 (Arts):
Cain: Hah- Hahaha! Watch me Abel, I’ll protect you this time!
Noble Phantasm Selected 3 (Buster):
Abel: Filthy sinners, all of you! Just like him!
Noble Phantasm Selected 4 (Buster):
Abel: DIE DIE DIE, LET’S SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT! HAHAHA!
Attack 1:
Cain: Grah!
Abel: Hah, hah!
Attack 2:
Cain: Together!
Abel: As if.
Attack 3:
Cain: I’m sorry, you must die.
Attack 4:
Cain: Take this!
Abel: How predictable.
Attack 5:
Abel: HRRAAAAGGHH!
Cain: Abel, that’s enough!
Attack 6:
Abel: You’re the one who deserves to die!
Cain: Abel, please...
Extra Attack:
Cain: Aaaargh, Why don’t you die!
Abel: You’d know all about that huh!
Cain: Guh-! I- I deserve it! I’m sorry!
Noble Phantasm 1 (Arts):
Cain: No no! I can’t kill him again, I won’t!
Cain: Forgive me, I swear! Nothing will lay a hand on you ever again! I’ll prove it, I’ll prove it!
Cain: I’ll kill them all as long as you forgive me!
Cain: Please, please, don’t leave me again...
Noble Phantasm 2 (Arts):
Cain: This curse is a double edged sword...
Cain: I can’t hold it back any longer! My body wants to kill him, but I won’t let it happen! So you… You’ll die with me, won’t you?
Cain: 「Genesis of Envy!」
Cain: No, this is mine to bear alone...
Noble Phantasm 3 (Buster):
Abel: Hah- hahaha- HAHAHA!
Abel: You’re really trying to lay a hand on me? Me?!
Abel: Die, die, die, die, die! A SINNER LIKE YOU SHOULD DIE!
Abel: Hah, hahaha, oh good riddance!
Noble Phantasm 4 (Buster):
Abel: A victim? Me?
Abel: No, no no no no, not anymore. Never again.
Abel: But you? You’re just filth, aren’t you? Good, be my scapegoat. Die in my place.
Abel : 「Exactment of Envy!」
Damage from Noble Phantasm:
Cain: Abel!!
Regular Damage:
Cain: Get behind me!
Defeated 1:
Cain: No... no no no no! I promised, I promised!
Abel: Stop...
Defeated 2:
Abel: Hehehehe, at least I... Get to see you go...
Cain: If it... Makes you happy...
Defeated 3:
Abel: Hurts! It... it hurts! Brother...
Cain: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry....
Battle Finish 1:
Cain: We’ve survived another day!
Abel: How unfortunate.
Battle Finish 2:
Abel: ... They’re gone.
Cain: We did it together.
Abel: So we did. How annoying.
My Room
Bond Lvl. 1:
Cain: Master, if I may be so bold, could I request we be placed on the backlines?
Abel: Coward.
Cain: It’s for your own good Abel!
Abel: As if you care what happens to me. Or did you decide to conveniently forget your sins?
Cain: Abel, I...
Abel: Shut up, I don’t want to hear anymore.
Bond Lvl. 2:
Cain: You know, we used to be very close once.
Abel: I don’t think they care to hear. Nor do I.
Cain: Abel was the cutest little thing as a babe! He’d go trotting around trying to get the sheep to play with him. And he’d always ask me to pick him up and give him tosses when father was too busy. It was adorable!
Abel: Do you want to die?
Cain: Does it bring back any memories?
Abel: ....
Bond Lvl. 3:
Abel: You’re far too comfortable having us around, Master.
Cain: Why must you be so blunt about everything...? And why do you say that?
Abel: Because Master seems like a good lamb. They shouldn’t have to make due with filth like you.
Cain: I suppose that’s true. But they’ve made contracts with many other... Unusual types of Servants. Perhaps our presence doesn’t bother them much?
Abel: I don’t like them either. They should stay away too.
Cain: Oh...
Bond Lvl. 4:
Abel: Master, are you free? My fool of a brother hurt himself again. Heal him.
Cain: It- It’s nothing! Anything to protect you both, after all...
Abel: If you die, I die with you, so let them heal you... Tch, this shared Spirit Origin is such a pain...
Cain: Ehehe... I’m happy to see that you even somewhat care for me.
Abel: Didn’t you hear what I just said? Maybe I really should kill you myself.
Cain: That’s the only way I want to die. Would that free you from this vengeance?
Abel: ... I don’t know...
Bond Lvl. 5:
Abel: The truth is... I don’t remember much about being human. Alive. Nowadays, there are feelings, or glimpses, but never anything solid. My memory begins and ends with my death, and that Brother killed me.
Cain: Abel...
Abel: So, you shouldn’t trust that Sinner to protect you, Master, or any of his ilk. They’ll try anything to corrupt a nice lamb like you.
Cain: But Abel, it’s our job as Servants to-
Abel: I can protect them on my own just fine. I don’t need your help.
Cain: ... Aha, haha, I see.
Abel: What? What are you laughing at!? Shut up!
Cain: No, I understand! So there really is a little of the old you in there... I see I shouldn’t be too worried then, since Abel is so resolved.
Cain: Rest assured Master, we’ll both do our very best to help you on your journey, any way we can. We swear. Right Abel?
Abel: I...
Cain: ....
Abel: .... We swear...
Dialogue 1:
Cain: What are you thinking about Abel?
Abel: Aside from killing you?
Cain: Yes, aside from that.
Abel: ... I want to lay down. On something cozy.
Cain: Huh?
Dialogue 2:
Cain: Master, is there anything we can do for you?
Abel: Something you need killed?
Dialogue 3:
Cain: You know Master, Abel used to be very silly!
Abel: Stop.
Cain: He’d follow the lambs around and make baa-ing sounds at them! Oh, and-!
Abel: You seem to want to die right now.
Cain: … Ahaha.
Dialogue 4 (After reaching Bond 5):
Abel: Go away.
Cain: Abel, don’t be rude!
Abel: I meant you, not Master. I want to play with Master for a bit.
Cain: .... Then far be it from me to stop you.
Abel: Stop smiling like that. It’s disgusting.
Dialogue 5 (After reaching Bond 5):
Cain: Abel, you know I love you right?
Abel: No you don’t.
Cain: Of course I do.
Abel: Shut up.
Cain: I love-
Abel: QUIET!
Dialogue 6 (Paris / Attila the San(ta)):
Abel: ...
Cain: Hm? Is something wrong?
Abel: ... Looks soft...
Cain: Soft? ... Oh, that sheep?
Abel: Mhm...
Cain: Should I go ask if you can pet it?
Abel: I can ask for myself!
Dialogue 7 (Avenger Class Servants):
Abel: Huh? That’s...
Cain: Ah, I suppose they’re another like us. Hm, something wrong Abel?
Abel: ... N-nothing, I... don’t like it.
Cain: There is a despairing aura to them... Perhaps I’m just used to it.
Dialogue 8 (Dioscuri / Trung Sisters):
Cain: Ah, look Abel, it’s those siblings I heard about!
Abel: Siblings... And you share a Spirit Origin as well?
Cain: I’m sure you must have a wonderful bond, to manifest together like this. Frankly, I’m a little jealous.
Abel: ... I don’t see why, it’s awful being stuck with you.
Cain: Oh Abel, you really know how to break my heart...
Abel: ... What heart...
Dialogue 9 (Kiara Sessyoin / Kama / Koyanskaya of Light / Koyanskaya of Darkness / Larva Tiamat / Sodom’s Beast/Draco)
Abel: Grrrrr!
Cain: Woah! Abel, calm down!
Abel: Let me go! I can feel them! Another one is here; Sinner, Sinner! SCUM LIKE THAT SHOULD DIE!
Cain: Master, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to hold him back- Abel, gnaw on my arm if that will help placate you.
Abel: Grrr....
Dialogue 10 (Karna / Santa Karna / Arjuna / Arjuna Alter):
Cain: Ah, I see we’re not the only brothers here with a... Complicated relationship.
Abel: What’s complicated about it? You killed me in cold blood. We’re murderer and victim before we’re brothers.
Cain: Always to the heart of the matter huh...
Abel: ... That said, I think I can understand them. Just a little.
Cain: Is that a good thing?
Abel: ... I don’t know.
Likes:
Cain: I used to love growing crops but ever since my curse... Well, you know. But, I did learn all sorts of things during my wandering, I’d say I’m quite partial to whittling in particular. What about you Abel?
Abel: I... think I liked... Soft things.
Dislikes:
Abel: I’ll kill him one day. I despise him.
Cain: ... I can’t say that I don’t agree. I deserve it, after all.
About the Holy Grail:
Cain: A wish huh... Sounds too good to be true.
Abel: To kill brother.
Cain: How decisive. Well, considering my wish would be “Abel’s happiness”, then I suppose our wish is one in the same.
Abel: ...
During an Event:
Abel: It’s noisy over there, how annoying.
Cain: Now now, don’t say that! Let’s at least see what’s happening.
Birthday:
Cain: Today is the day you received the gift of life! ... I must apologize, but I feel that it would be best for you to stay away from us for the day, Master.
Abel: For once, I agree with him. We’re nothing but a bad omen on a day like this. But... Um...
Cain: Abel?
Abel: H- Happy birthday to youuuu... ♪
Cain: Ahh, hehe... Yes, please accept our well wishes, at the very least.
Valentine’s CE:
Olive Branch Brothers
Description:
A Valentine’s return gift from Cain and Abel.
When Abel expressed that he wished to return your kind Valentine’s gesture, Cain immediately set forth the idea of creating carvings. It took the brothers’ some deliberation (and fighting) to come to the conclusion that the most meaningful gift they could provide you was their united cooperation. The two figures are not just a physical olive branch, but a metaphorical one as well, each brother carving the likeness of the other.
Cain’s carving of Abel is smooth and practiced, nary a blemish in sight. It’s shine and lacquered finish bring out the natural beauty of the wood grain, and it’s clear to see his experience.
Abel’s carving of Cain is... Crude, to say the least. Painfully sharp edges, a rough texture, and smears of blood where he’d clearly nicked himself on the carving tool are all present. And yet, you can’t help but find the earnestness heartwarming.
Of course, as you proudly display them on your shelf, you try to ignore the obvious self-vandalism Abel committed on Figure-Cain’s head and heart.
These brothers still have a long way to go.
#fate grand order#fgo art#Fate Grand Order OC#FGO fate grand order#FGO fan servant#cain and abel#fate series#fate servants#Fate OCs#my art#I might have gone slightly insane making this#There are more pictures but tumblr limit said no
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It’s been a HOT second but I’m rereading Pandora Hearts again. And oofjfsjfhgkksk my kids 🥺
THEY ARE SO SILLY!!!!!
#Also Gil is literally ALWAYS touching Oz and it makes me insane actually.#10 years can make a guy reeeal clingy huh#Esp considering baby Gilbert rarely ever initiated contact. From what I remember#Anyway they make me ill they’re goobers I love them#I love how Gil just so casually carries Oz around now. Like he’s a sack of potatoes. LMAO#Oz: Awww you’ve gone from being a pathetic wet beast to a slightly older pathetic wet beast 🥺#Gil:#Gil: I. Don’t know how to respond to that actually#Pandora Hearts#Oz Vessalius#Gilbert Nightray#Actually huh. You know what. I might have to make another post on my thoughts about smth#Shima speaks
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#YES YES YES I ALMOST POINTED OUT THE LIGHTING TOO#i would say that elizabeth also offered him a lifeline in tortuga and he DID take it but he was still halfway set on pointless revenge#on jack (despite what happened post-cotbp being 100% entirely his fault and him damn well knowing it)#unclear if he would have actually done anything other than be a royal bitch to jack forever & ever amen before he sees the letter of marque#and when he's given THAT “lifeline” he clings to it with every fiber of his being even as it cuts into him. even as it binds him.#because it wasn't really a lifeline but he wasn't willing to give up Everything From Before yet#then she proffers this last lifeline because damn it all she JUST lost her father and even though she knows what james has done#she does not want to lose them both; to lose her last real tie to that life though she has rejected every other aspect of it#and he's finally maybe ready to say “fuck it” and take this leap but alas the narrative fucking Gets Him#anyway. glad to see that the norrington hivemind has logged the fuck on today#and yes well done op making the insane lighting choices in this movie look good (more excellent tags from @dying-suffering-french-stalkers)
i had nothing to do with your father’s death. but that does not absolve me of my other sins.
#L I S T E N is it not enough to imagine a world where jimothy gets to be a royal bitch forever and ever amen?#you are so right; Elizabeth does intentionally or unintentionally throw him a lifeline in Tortuga in DMC; as someone (perhaps you?);#has pointed out in the past; Jimothy's plans in Tortuga apparently consist of seeing which is going to kill him quicker;#the rum or the pirates; if Elizabeth hadn't shown up and pulled him out of the mud he might not have even gone after Jack;#and so he gets dragged back into The Narrative to everyone's detriment (including his own);#anyway it DOES make me slightly insane that Elizabeth repeatedly throws Jimothy lifelines despite their significant differences!#pirates of the caribbean#potc:awe#james norrington#elizabeth swann
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what's that sound?
includes: nsfw! continuation of my college athelete!choso linked here. vouyerism, oral sex(f receiving), somewhat bottom choso, p in v, unprotected sex, choso is a little pervy, he’s never eaten pussy before either, choso cums from hearing i love u then he gets a little emotional. he’s just a loser!!!!!
word count: roughly 3k
a/n: we r so back!!!!
choso has been at his best since he met you.
ever since you two got together, he's been much different. not just to you—to everyone! there’s a pep in his step when he walks, he’s a little more confident when he talks, and he’s even playing better on the field now! (totally not because he knows you’re in the bleachers and he’s trying to look extra cool just for you.)
and it pains him in more ways than one when he has to stay away from you for so long. with the new league about to hit its peak, coaches are adding in extra hours, school work is getting more and more tasking by the day, and only talking to you on the phone for a couple of minutes and texting the whole day is nowhere near enough for him. even though he’s the one that needs most of the space!
you’re so sweet about it too, assuring him you’d be fine and he has to prioritize his sports career. you still show up to the occasional practice to offer a quick kiss before you go home, and you leave him snacks in his book bag when you see it lying around. you’re honestly such a blessing, why is the world so against the two of you right now?
but a single ray of light shines down on Choso’s dim day when the head coach sends a text that they can have the day off since they played so well in the last game. he’s almost flying out of his class seat right then and there—his mind is going straight towards you.
he feels like shit as he makes his way out of the flower shop; bouquet in hand. it’s not much, but he hopes you find it sweet enough that you’ll forgive him for how long it’s been since he last saw you. he stood there, individually picking out the best blue hyacinths and white orchids from the bunch, all fresh and neatly wrapped as a sort of poetic apology. you might not even know what it means, but who cares? it’s the thought that counts.
and he feels even weirder driving to your doorstep after all the times he’s run there instead. he’s still nervous even after all the times you’ve held him, kissed him, fucked him. you’re just so perfect, who wouldn’t be near pissing themselves right now with you behind the door?
he’s carefully sliding the single key you gave him in, pushing inwards after he hears the soft click. fingers tightening around the paper holding the flowers together, he steps in. empty.
what the hell? you should be home right now. it’s Friday—your classes end early and your favorite podcast should be up by now. but you’re not here.
choso’s brows furrow. He peered into the kitchen and checked the downstairs bathroom, the backyard, and even under the stairwell. nothing.
agitation crawls up his neck as hears a muffled noise from upstairs. it's faint; almost impossible to hear, but he’s sure it’s you.
the staircase is barely creaking as he makes his way up insanely slow. his grip on the flowers are tight, almost inhumane as he’s prepared to use them as a weapon. his steps are quick once he reaches the top, deathly silent but still quick as he closes in on the cracked open door of your room. the noises are getting slightly louder, more frantic and they sound less like pain and more like moans. moans..?
choso’s heart cracks once and he stops dead in his tracks. there’s no way. he knows he’s been gone for a long time, but it hasn't been that long, right? fuck—you said you loved him, you said it so many times, you wouldn’t cheat on him so quick. you wouldn’t cheat on him at all. so why are you–
“f-fuck cho.. miss you s-so much..”
oh.
oh.
oh.
the blood flow in Choso’s legs finally picks up once again, and he’s noiselessly pushing himself against the wall right next to your doorpost. he’s craning his head so far to the side, but he can finally see it. he can finally see you. and holy shit, he might have just cum in his pants.
your legs are spread, bed facing the door as your fingers disappear into your cunt. your shirt–his shirt is pulled up right under your chin, leaving your cute tits out in the open as you harshly tug on one of your own nipples.
the view is stupidly mesmerizing, and choso catches himself just before he starts drooling at the sight of you. he’s not even paying attention to how hard he is, he’s completely entranced by every little action. the way your body is twitching, how your fingers are moving, how your eyes are pressed tightly shut as you cry out his name.
choso is genuinely about to lose it. he just wants to crawl over there and eat you whole, in more ways than one. but he’s practically glued to the spot; he’s even holding his breath just to not ruin the moment!
but he’s getting knocked out of his incomprehensible trance when you let out a particularly irritated groan.
it’s so annoying. you haven’t been able to cum once since your boyfriend has been scarce. it’s not like you tried anyway, you’d much rather have him pump your orgasms out of you like he seemed to love doing. but it’s been so long, and you’ve been so sexually frustrated that you had to turn back to playing with yourself like this.
it’s not that you couldn’t call him, you’re almost a hundred percent sure he’d run all the way to you if he was on the other side of the country. but you didn’t want to bother him too much. his schedule has been overflowing with activities and he’s probably so busy, you didn’t want to seem inconsiderate! so you’d settled on seeing him when you knew he was free.
but this is getting way too bad, and you’re sure you’d start losing sight in your left ear if you don’t get it out right now.
so against your better judgment, you’re using your free hand to reach over to your phone, banking on the fact that his voice will be enough to get you off. he doesn’t have to know, right? And plus, you can always tell him later when you feel less guilty.
it doesn’t take long for you to find his name surrounded by hearts in your contact list and you’re calling without a second thought. it takes a couple of seconds before the line actually starts to ring.
the loud noise from Choso’s back pocket startles him so much that he drops the flowers he’s forgotten he’s holding. he’s silently cursing himself amidst the noise of his phone singing out, and now he’s lost on what to do.
you speak first though, voice breathy and low as you call out his name. he bites down on his lower lip, slowly stepping into the entrance of your room. you bite back a laugh despite the obscenity of the whole thing. he looks like a kid who got caught with their chubby hand down the cookie jar, he’s just way too cute!
“were you watching me, cho?”
almost immediately he’s a stuttering mess of excuses and apologies. he swears he didn’t mean to, he just wanted to surprise you—he just got a little carried away!
and you can’t hide your smile as you shut him up, gesturing for him to come closer. you’re sitting up now, more covered than before as your shirt rolls down.
you pat the space beside you, signaling for him to come over. it feels like ages, almost eons when your bed finally dips from his weight, but he’s still so far away. it’s definitely an improvement from the first time he came over, but you need him much closer than he is.
you can see his body tense up as you shift closer. he’s still avoiding your eyes, finding the floor much more interesting than the face of yours he always says he can’t get enough of. your fingers are giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze as he apologizes once again. you’re not upset. nowhere near even—this might have been the best possible outcome. but if he’s all mopey like this, neither of you will get anywhere.
“y’know, i don’t mind you watching me.”
you can feel him physically cringe at your words, but you’re not done just yet.
“so, you can keep watching me, or…”
his eyes finally meet yours after what feels like an eternity, waiting for you to go on. there you go.
“or?”
“…you can help me.”
quite literally, you can see the gears turning in that silly little brain of his. but he’s choosing to forgo an actual response, pressing his lips against yours instead. you can’t help the moan you let flow out of you, and he’s grunting in response, arms closing around you hard so he can push you onto your back once more.
choso’s kisses are heavy and full of need, tongue dancing around yours as his fingers graze the exposed skin of your thighs. you feel so good under his rough palms, he can’t help but try to soften his touch. he doesn’t want to hurt you! after all, you’re his most prized possession. he has to take care of you in every way he can.
and you’re half expecting his fingers to replace yours as they were a couple of minutes ago, but he’s pulling back with a sharp huff. you’re lazily opening your eyes, gaze connecting with his again as you start to notice the tips of his ears are a burning red.
“can i... i want to taste you. please.
even with his eyes still trained on yours, his entire face is flushed. even after all these months, he’s still as nervous as ever.
you offer him a welcoming smile and nod. he’s clearing his throat as he moves away, making quick work of getting his shirt off before settling between your legs.
and he’s a little overwhelmed coming face to face with your pussy like this. he knows you’re watching him, and he’s watching your essence drip out and down your cunt as he thinks. he’s racking his brain, trying to think of the best way to approach this. but your hand guiding the back of his head closer towards your aching heat is all the encouragement he needs.
once his tongue comes in contact with your slick, his eyes fall shut. you gasp at the experimental licks he’s giving you, warmth of his tongue sending jolts all the way down into your toes as he groans at how sweet you taste.
he’s catching on with lightning speed, lightly dipping his tongue into your entrance between every couple of strokes from his tongue. his nose is bumping your clit just right, and you’re tugging at his hair quite harshly as he continues to suck at your hole.
it’s his tongue going deep into your cunt that has you arching off the bed, nails digging into his scalp as your thighs close around his ears. his strong hands are only wrapped around your thighs, locking you tight in place as he ravages his new favorite meal.
and the tip of his tongue is starting to invade your sensitive spots as he fucks it in and out of you, wiggling it around when he’s sure it’s as deep as he can go so you’re arching high off the bed. you’re desperately trying to push him away—you’re not sure you can handle all this! but choso is too far gone; he’ll apologize later. right now, he’s going to get a fill of this flavor he’s been missing out on for weeks.
but even with your pleas and cries, choso doesn’t stop. you’d think he’d gone deaf from how hard your thighs were pressing on his ears. truth is he can hear you loud and clear. he just wants to make sure he gets every single drop of your release down his throat.
he’s only had a sneaky taste of it after he helps you finish on his fingers. when you’re finally off the high and sleeping wrapped in his arms like a baby, he’ll bring his digit to his lips, childishly licking at them to get whatever remnants are on his fingers onto his tongue. but it won’t be long before pangs of guilt and shame cover him, and his hand will settle right by your side.
but now? there’s no way he’s about to give this up. he can feel it. the way you’re tightening around his tongue, how your moans are starting to crack just like they always do.
and he’s right because your thick release is hitting his throat in no time, flooding his mouth as he slurps up every last drop.
when he finally lets you free from his vice grip, you’re both panting and sweaty. his chin is entertained covered in your release. you can barely keep your eyes open, but you can hear how choso is fighting to get rid of his pants next.
it’s not long before Choso’s lips collide with yours in a much softer kiss. he’s been slightly… satiated. but his boner is getting more painful by the second, and he misses the way you envelop him so dearly.
he doesn’t break the kiss as he hooks his elbows under your knees. he’s pushing up, not stopping u til your calves are rested perfectly against his shoulders. he didn’t know you could bend like that. you didn’t know you couldn’t bend like that. but both of your trains of thought are broken when he finally pushes into you. a short string of curses falls from his lips when you clamp down around him just like you always do.
and regardless of how impatient he’s been all this time, choso never fails to fuck you properly. his thrusts are calculated and deep, each one making your entire body twitch under him.
you never fail to give him the praise he deserves either, telling him he’s doing so well they turn his harsh grunts into weak whines.
but he loses all composure when you call him ‘my good boy’. you can swear you hear him sob, but the noise gets drowned out fast by the sound of skin slapping as he picks up the speed of his hips
your eyes are crossing, fingers dipping into his shoulders when his pelvis starts to brush your overstimulated clit. he’s hitting everything so right, deep whispers of your name breezing through your head as he pounds into you.
you’re practically an inch away from getting fucked into a concussion but it’s the least of your worries right now. you’ve missed this—you’ve missed him. it’s the moments where he’s so raw with you, no masks of shame or fear covering how he truly feels that you love the most. this is the cost that you love.
but you’re still a human being, and one with limits. your orgasm is bubbling hard in the pits of your belly, so you’re tightening your own hold on him, mumbling about how you’re getting close. and you barely last another five seconds before a stupidly broken ‘i love you’ falls from your swollen lips.
those three words are sending choso over the edge so fast he can’t help the strangled noise that comes from his throat. those words are pumping energy throughout every vein of his body, and even through his orgasm, he doesn’t stop his movements. his face is digging into your neck as he rides out the rest of his high, tears dripping onto the skin of your collarbone.
you’re so confused when you recover, that you don’t know what to say! all you can do is shush him, dragging your fingers calmly through his messy strands as you try to calm him down. even through his fit, he’s still apologizing and it breaks your heart over and over. all you can do is press a sweet kiss against the side of his face and tell him how cute he looks with his face all wet like this. then he remembers.
he’s returning to your sides within seconds, setting the bouquet carefully in your arms before explaining what it’s supposed to be. they’ve already been out for quite some time though, so you’ll need to take them downstairs to place in a jar before they start to wilt too badly. but you’re in no state to walk like this.
so choso is scooping you up bridal style despite your protests and carrying you down the steps. he only puts you down to place you in front of the kitchen sink as he moves around to find a suitable container. it’s adorable you think, how proactive he is about this. but he’s done pretty quickly, and all you have to do is lean over the basin and push the jar onto the sill.
which you do with a gasp because he’s pressing onto your back, wrapping his arms around your waist. but that’s not what catches you off guard, it’s how hard he is. and with the way his hand is trailing down between your thighs, you know you don’t have long before you’ll be getting filled up again.
if you think you’ve missed him, you have no idea how much he’s missed you. and even with that, he’s so considerate! he knows how tired your legs must be, so he’s keeping you up with his vice-like grip as he fucks into you from behind right in front of the kitchen window. your brain's been turned to mush a long time ago, you don’t even care if your neighbors see you like this. all that’s on your mind is how bruised you’re going to be when choso finally lets up, and how much cum he can pump into you until he has to go for his next practice.
#choso smut#college athlete!choso#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#choso x reader smut#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso kamo#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#choso#choso x you#choso x y/n
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MINE ft. Yeji
yeji x male reader smut
9k words
it's a follow up to... NURSE
“You’re unbelievable!”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“You’re going to make me go insane!”
“That good, am I?”
“I swear one of these days—”
“I know, I know, I feel the same—”
“—I am seriously going to kill you!”
“Uh, shit, I’m out of jokes with that one.”
“Good, because I am Not. Fucking. Joking.”
Yeji’s well and truly pissed—rightfully so, mind you (you really fucked up this time), and for the first time ever there may really be no clever quip or line that can get you out of this one.
But of course, that won’t stop you from trying.
“Look around! This isn’t a fucking joke!”
She’s glaring at you, the kind of furious that could melt steel with her gaze alone, eyes narrowed into sharp slits that slice through your bullshit like a hot knife.
And so, you blink first, balking under Yeji’s glare, and decide to take her advice and look away, look around at your surroundings—at the many, many reasons Yeji is justifiably upset.
For one, there’s your current location—a hospital room, not a good look. Then, there’s the cast around your arm and bandages on your head—not the worse of injuries, but again, when you couple it with the IV snaking its way up your arm, and the morbid beeping of a heart rate monitor filling the silence, it really does not make you out to be the most intact of individuals.
Finally, there’s Yeji, her eyes verging on tears and her hands balled into fists, clutching the fabric of your hospital gown and looking like she’s ready to tear the room apart.
Add them all together: a hospital room, a handsome but seriously injured boyfriend, with his devastated girlfriend wracked with worry besides him… it doesn’t paint the best of pictures.
But yet, before you can stop yourself, another attempt at lightening the mood: “You should see the other guy.”
There it is! A crack in Yeji’s armour, a flicker of something other than righteous fury on her face—eyes widen slightly, lips part just a smidge—a ghost of a smile, perhaps?
But it’s gone before you can confirm its existence—Yeji’s façade is maintained and all you get is a minuscule quirk of her eyebrow.
“The other guy was a car,�� she says through gritted teeth.
“And now that car is being turned into scrap and I get to be in the presence of the most beautiful girl in all of Korea.”
“I hate you,” she replies, lovingly (you hope).
“Most beautiful girl in all of Asia?” You’re almost there, you can see it on her face.
“Still hate you.” An ease in tension—a slight drop of her shoulders, a relaxing of her grip.
“The world?”
A sigh, a frown slowly turning upwards, success! — “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your idiot,” you add, and that gets you a smile—a real, genuine, heart-stopping smile that lights up the room more than any fluorescent bulb could ever dream of.
“What am I going to do with you?” She’s shaking her head, letting you have your little victory.
“What would I do without you?” You ask, and she's rolling her eyes—nothing she hasn't heard you say before. “Certainly wouldn’t get to stay in a room this nice.”
Yeji blushes, her cheeks taking on the same shade of the excessive number of roses decorating your bedside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Seriously, Yeji?” You say, and echo back to her, “look around.”
It’s Yeji’s turn to act coy—as if it’s perfectly normal for a hospital room to come with a flat-screen TV, designer furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the city.
The room is closer to a luxury suite than a recovery ward—bigger than your apartment, even—and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to maybe risk another injury so you can maybe extend your stay even longer, especially if it means getting to have Yeji fuss over you like this.
“I might have called in a favour or two,” Yeji admits. “But they said this was the only room available!”
“Yeji, this is too much,” you say, but she’s already ignoring you, waving her hand dismissively.
“It’s nothing,” she says, rising off the bed and leaving you to your own devices, satisfied that you’ve been properly scolded.
But, you know better. While Yeji is like this with everyone she cares about—always giving, always putting others first—with you she gets especially intense with her caring, and as much as she’d probably deny it otherwise, you know that she’s more than a little smug at the sight of you laid up in this fancy hospital room, with nothing to do but let her pamper you.
“Sure, sure,” you say, but you can easily imagine her on the phone with every hospital in a fifty-kilometre radius, pulling strings left and right, leaning on the right people to get what she wants.
It’s just who Yeji is—no half measures, above and beyond in every aspect.
“I should unpack,” Yeji decides, retrieving a ridiculously oversized bag from the corner of your suite.
“Unpack?” You ask, but your question falls on deaf ears.
“I was halfway across the world when I heard what happened.” Yeji's clicking her tongue with annoyance as she struggles with the zipper for the bag. “Two days before I could get a flight out!”
“You didn’t have to rush—” you start to say, but Yeji whips her head around, a clear warning not to finish the very stupid sentence you’re about to complete.
“I didn’t have time to pack everything, just grabbed what I could from our place—” (your place, technically) “—and came straight here.”
Yeji instantly sets about your room, making sure that there isn’t a corner that hasn't been touched by her: your favourite tea brewing, the last book you were reading, a Bluetooth speaker playing her ‘songs to remind you of me’ playlist; every single thing you could possibly need to feel better.
It’s not even what she’s doing as she completes her takeover of your hospital room, it’s how she’s doing it.
She’s in her normal everyday uniform: one of your flannel shirts over a tank top that just so happens to ride up just right, showing off her toned midriff as she reaches to hang a change of clothes for you in the wardrobe. Then there’s the snug, tight yoga pants moulded to her curves that stretch over her unbearably firm ass every time she needs to bend over and take something else out from her bag.
It’s all too perfect to be accidental, and you start to get conspiratorial, like perhaps this innocent act of care is just a torturous reminder of your what you can’t have while you’re all laid up and injured.
She is dressed normally. But normal, everyday clothes for anyone else on someone like Yeji, with her body—all sleek muscles and tight lines—is absolutely devastating.
Yeji works fast, a tornado of love and care clad in a dangerous pair of leggings, and in minutes she’s done, adding a finishing touch by spraying her perfume around the room, overpowering the sterile hospital scent with the sweet, floral notes that are uniquely hers—this is her space now, anyway.
Finally, she stops at the foot of your hospital bed, picking up your medical chart, reading it like she understands it all (actually, knowing Yeji, she probably got her medical degree on the way to the hospital just in case she deemed the doctors and nurses weren't doing a good enough job and she decided to take over).
“Hm,” is Yeji’s summary of your current condition. It’s cute, seeing her stare at the clipboard with a focus she usually reserves for the stage. “Eating well, no signs of deterioration in fine motor skills, very responsive, and very… friendly?”
You raise an eyebrow. “They wrote that down?”
“Attending physician: Dr. Park Yoona, Nurses: Roh Ji Yun, Jeon Jeong ah, Bae Hye Jin,” Yeji starts to read out the list of names—female names—and you start to hear the nails being hammered into your coffin, “Nurse Kim Ji Won—seriously, like the actress? All women. Hm.”
“Really, I hadn’t noticed!” Maybe feigning ignorance would increase your chances of survival. “You’d think in this day and age there’d be more male nurses now though, right?”
“Hm,” it’s that noise again. “I’m glad to hear that while I was worried sick about you, desperately trying to get over here, you’ve been well taken care of. Must be nice surrounded by all these cute women in their little nurse outfits.”
“Oh, please,” you test a deflection, “they’re just doing their jobs.”
Yeji’s eyes bore into you. “One of these nurses dots her ‘I’s with love hearts.”
You can only sigh at your impending doom. It’s been a good life.
“Who do these women think they are?”
You switch up your strategy, trying another angle: “They’re medical professionals, Yeji, not strippers.”
“Right, medical professionals,” Yeji echoes, her tone thick with sarcasm, before she suddenly switches up, putting on her sweetest, and most uncomfortable, baby voice. “Oh no, such a big, strong man that needs help. Tell me where it hurts so I can rub it better for you!”
“Stop, stop,” you protest, as much as you would like her to rub it better, you still have your pride. “I barely even talk to them—they just do their check-ups and leave. I can’t even remember what they look like, they’re probably all just plain, old ladies.”
You regret the words as soon as you say them (you really should’ve seen this coming), because before you can get any further into your pitiful defence, the door to your room swings open, and in struts a young, cheery, bouncy woman.
“Is my favourite patient ready for another check-up?” You're already cringing at the nurse’s question—her voice a squeak that’s far too high-pitched and far too cute for a hospital. If anything, she looks like an actress playing the role of a nurse, in some bad movie where they clearly casted for looks over believability.
Yeji’s eyes widen at the sight of the new, endowed occupant of the room, and she reads the name on the nurse’s tag, pinned firmly over a set of scrubs that’s a few sizes too small, and you’re immediately reminded of her earlier threat to kill you with surprising clarity.
“Kim Ji Won,” Yeji reads out loud, before suddenly remembering herself, lowering a baseball cap over her eyes and slipping on a surgical mask, hiding her face from view. She turns away, pretending to fuss with the flowers on your bedside table.
“Oh!” The nurse exclaims, and you’re starting to feel the walls of what was once a luxurious hospital room start to close in. “I didn’t realise you had a guest,” she says, as light and cheerful as ever, “is she perhaps your… sister?”
Oh God, Yeji might really kill you after this. “No, no, no, she’s my—”
But Nurse JI Won ploughs onwards, having the gall (or lack of a sense of self-preservation) to turn to Yeji, and chat away. “Your brother has been the perfect patient! Me and all the other nurses just can’t get enough of him! He’s such a charmer!”
Yep. Definitely dying. It’s been a good life.
“Oh, oops!” Ji Won giggles, as she somehow drops the clipboard she was holding, sending papers scattering across the floor. “I’m so silly, give me a second to get it together!”
“No, no, it’s okay you don’t need to—” you try, but by now you should know better, “—bend over and pick it up.”
She’s already turned away from you, pointing her ass up and straight into the air, performatively picking up the pages one by one, taking her time so you can commit to memory the exact colour of the lacy thong peeking out of her pants.
It’s so blatant that you’re almost impressed, but compared to the practiced ease of your girlfriend, it’s a pale imitation. Still, your mind can’t resist making the comparison, even though there’s no ass in the world that can hold a candle to Yeji’s cheeks wrapped in sheer nylon.
Look at you, all loyal and shit—even in the face of all temptation, you’re still a committed boyfriend, through and through.
If only Yeji, who is now evaluating you with a glare as hot as a thousand suns, could know that your mind is filled with thoughts of just her… even as you're staring at Nurse Ji Won’s ass.
You’re dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
“Aha, got it!” Ji Won is back on her feet, jumping with a cheer that suggests that maybe she could use a little more support, whilst completely immune to the sudden drop in temperature in the room. Yeji might as well be a ghost to her, the nurse looks only at you, scanning your body, searching for any new injuries that may have popped up since your last check-up.
If only she knew to just come back in an hour.
“It says here it’s about time to take out your IV!” Ji Won sunnily declares.
Consent isn’t a word that seems to exist in this nurse’s vocabulary, and she takes the opportunity to lean real close over you, pressing her ample chest against your side, making sure you get the full feel of her curves as she reaches across to the stand.
Of course, you don’t look—that would be insane. Instead your eyes are on Yeji, who’s definitely not looking at the nurse. No, she’s still boring a hole right through your skull, her hands holding a shredded flower, her knuckles turning white.
“Okay, that’s all done!” Ji Won chirps, and mercifully removes her breasts from your shoulder. “Hey, why are you acting all shy? You’re usually so much friendlier!”
“Oh?” Yeji makes a noise for the first time, and it terrifies you.
But again, the nurse pretends like she doesn’t even exist. “Let me check your heartbeat… And—”
“I’m sure it’s all fine and you can leave now, right—” You try a last-ditch effort to save this poor nurse’s life, but she’s clearly not taking the hint.
“Perfect as always, Mr. Metronome!” She says, writing down on her clipboard, clearly not noticing the seconds of her remaining lifespan ticking away. “We always talk about how you must work out so much to have a heart rate so low and consistent, I mean, obviously you do—look at you!”
You file her comments away as yet another reason your life is about to end, and try to push on, “so—I’m all good, right?”
“Of course you are,” Ji Won replies, turning the volume right up on the flirtiness, and her eyes flicker over to Yeji before she winks at you. “But I’ll just double-check everything before I go.”
“No, I think that’s enough!” Yeji breaks the conversation with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and the poor nurse jumps from the sternness of her voice. “You said he’s fine, he said he’s tired, and so that means you can leave now!”
“Oh, he’s tired? Does he need extra pillows, or is there anything I can do to make him more comfortable?”
But Yeji already has her out the door, practically dragging the girl out of the room by her collar of her scrubs. “He’s fine!”
The door slams behind the nurse, but not before you hear her giggle, “Hey, you look familiar!”
An icy silence fills the room once the nurse is gone, thick and tense. Yeji doesn’t move for several beats, it’s eerie the way she just stands there, staring at the closed door of your hospital room.
Something clicks in her head, though, and she locks the door, turning back to you, seemingly having made a final decision on your fate.
“So…” you throw out a feeler, trying your best to move straight past, well, everything. “How’s the tour going?”
“Is she perhaps your sister?” Yeji’s voice jumps an octave, a perfect imitation of the high-pitched squeak that had just left the room. She turns to you, throwing the cap off her head and tearing the mask off her face. “Vomit.”
“I have no idea what that nurse was talking about,” you say, immediately making a case to plead your innocence.
“So gross!” Her words are dripping with pure disgust, but at least it isn’t directed at you (for now, anyway). “That’s it! We’re moving hospitals!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down.”
“What is it with girls like that? Oh, you must work out a lot, I mean obviously you do!” Yeji continues her eerily uncanny impersonation. “Seriously, you’re an adult and you’re doing baby talk? ‘Perfect as always Mr. Metronome!”
“She’s just being nice, probably didn’t mean anything at all,” it’s a very weak argument you’re making, the only way the nurse could make her intentions more obvious were if she was wearing a bright neon sign that flashed ‘please fuck me!’.
“Bitch. Shameless! Hitting on my boyfriend in front of me. Acting so cute, so helpless—oops! I dropped my clipboard!” Yeji’s pouting now, fluttering her lashes, mimicking every blatant flirtation Nurse Ji Won had thrown your way.
“Really, we’re doing caricatures now?”
“Carica-what?” Yeji tilts her head to the side, and starts to sway her way over to you, her hips swinging from side to side with an exaggerated bounce. She’s playing it up to a T, making sure to sway, shake, to jiggle with each step she takes. “What does that word even mean? It’s such a big word. You must be really smart.”
Yeji settles into the role of the pretty, ditzy nurse far too easily, and her eyes tell you that she’s enjoying it far too much. For now though, you play along, clearing your throat and putting on your manliest voice—“I have been told I have a rather expansive vocabulary.”
“Wow, another big word,” Yeji’s at your bedside again, taking your hand into hers, looking up at you with wide-eyed awe. “Oh, you’re just so clever!” She giggles, as her other hand just so happens to come down on your thigh, leaving her free to squeeze and massage your muscles. “And so strong too! Do you work out?”
You grit your teeth as Yeji starts to trace her thumb in gentle circles over your skin, all the while staring up at you so innocently—she’s laying it on thick. “Sometimes…”
“I can tell…” Yeji continues, her voice trailing off as she runs her hand further up your thigh, light as a feather, but when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile, it’s if she’s dragging a live wire across your skin. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure as she leans in closer, lets her top hang a little loose, lets you get a peek at the soft swell of her breasts, parts those full, pouty lips of hers, her fingers tracing the contour of your leg as she moves higher and higher and higher, until her fingertips are on your—“Unbelievable! I cannot believe that actually works on you!”
“That’s unfair!” You shout in surprise, letting go of a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “You can’t expect me not to react when you’re doing that!”
“Uh huh, I bet!” Yeji says, clearly not buying it. “You’re not at all attracted to the helpless, innocent, bouncy little slut that leans close so you can get a good view of her fat tits?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a singular pair of tits kind of guy.”
“This bitch,” Yeji curses under her breath, throwing her hands up in frustration. She unfortunately removes her hand from your leg, and plops herself down on your bed (it’s easily big enough for two), stewing in her emotions. You watch each cross her face: concern, jealousy, disbelief, a slight hint of amusement.
“Yeji,” you say, getting her attention, snapping her out of her thoughts. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m yours. That’s that.”
She stares back at you, her eyes light up at the declaration, and she punches your arm—your healthy one, of course. “You better be.”
It’s strange, seeing Yeji like this—so raw, so visibly affected by someone else’s attention on you. You’ve always thought of her as so strong, so confident, but there’s something in her possessiveness over you that is making you think about things that should definitely not happen in a hospital.
Fuck it, injuries be damned, without another word, you stretch forward and grab her by the waist, your good hand wrapping around her firmly, pulling her closer to you. She gasps, but doesn’t resist, no, she leans into your touch, her body melting into yours as if it’s been starved for affection.
You hold her tight, letting her settle into your embrace, and can only laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation you’re in. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be taking care of me, you’re really not helping my blood pressure right now.”
“I’m still mad at you,” Yeji murmurs into your chest, but there’s no venom in her voice. Instead, it’s filled with something else entirely—something softer, more vulnerable. Her body relaxes against you, and you feel the tension in the room start to dissipate.
“Let’s not pretend that you weren’t enjoying acting like a helpless, little slut, Yeji,” you accuse, and Yeji’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. “I know you.”
“It’s your fault,” Yeji says, still hiding her face in your chest. “You and your ridiculous sexy nurse fantasy.”
“It’s a classic,” you shrug, before making an executive decision. “And this time, we actually have the right setting for it.”
Yeji looks around the room, shyly biting her lip. Again, all an act, she’s far too perceptive to not have the same thought on the forefront of her mind. “Here?”
“I saw you lock the door.” You catch the smirk that flashes across Yeji’s face. “Your mind is as filthy as mine, Yeji, I’m just better at vocalising it.”
“You think you can read my mind?”
“You know I can.” You lean in, your mouth finding hers in a soft kiss to prove your point—you didn’t need to ask to know that this is what she’s been after the whole time. Your lips find her forehead, “I can read your mind”—a kiss on her cheek—“your body”—and a whisper in her ear— “your pussy.”
You know you’re right by the hitch in Yeji’s breathing, how she leans into your touch, and when she straddles you without a second thought. Her thighs squeeze down against yours, the fabric of her yoga pants sliding against your hospital gown. She’s all soft curves and heat as she settles herself over you, her hands pressing down on your chest to keep herself steady.
“That nurse really riled you up, didn’t she?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yeji steals another kiss from you, a moan muffled against your mouth. But yet, there’s the slight grind of hips—slow, deliberate friction, unbearable by design. “I’m just here to take care of my helpless boyfriend.”
“Yoga pants, Yeji. Again,” you say. “I saw it all. How you just so happened to need to stretch, or bend over, or lean just right,” you tease, even though it’s getting harder and harder to get your words out by the second. “You’re just as bad as her, only you’re way better at it.”
You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, the type of kiss you’ve been dying to give her since she first walked into the room, your tongue slipping into her mouth and tasting minty sweetness on her breath.
“And you look way fucking hotter than her when you do it, too.”
A smug smile plays on Yeji's lips as she's kissing you again. “I am the most beautiful woman in Korea.”
“The world,” you correct her.
“Goes without saying,” she finished. “’Extremely hot girlfriend’, if I remember correctly?”
“On fucking fire,” you summarise, and reach out to touch her, needing to feel her, but Yeji stops you placing your hand back on the bed.
She gives you a stern look, and shakes her head. “No, no, no. You’re the patient here, remember? You’re not allowed to do anything,” she says, her voice a mix of playfulness and authority. Yeji leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “You have to let the slutty nurse take care of you.”
You see it again—that switch—and Yeji gets more adventurous, cutting off your breath as she drags her hand down, sliding it under your thin hospital gown, walking her fingers back up your thigh. She stops just shy of your hardened cock, her eyes never leaving yours, revelling in your neediness for her, your want, before finally she takes a hold of you, her grip firm and tight and sure.
There’s heat in her palm, and she pulls a moan out of you and into her mouth as she starts to slowly stroke. It’s the softness of her hand against the growing stiffness of your shaft, her fingertips grazing your skin—you know you should be more careful, more considerate of where you are, but with Yeji’s touch, all rational thought is lost.
“I bet none of those bitch nurses could make you feel like this.” Yeji’s touch is a masterpiece of precision and passion, each movement calculated, practiced, she’s right—she’s the only one who knows how to touch you in just the perfect way to make you ache. Her fingers dance along your shaft, her grip tightening and loosening in a rhythm that only she can hear.
“I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” You groan, playing dumb, your mind filled with nothing but Yeji’s body on top of you, her fingers wrapped around you. “What other women?”
Yeji’s eyes narrow, but she can’t hold back her smile. “Good answer,” she whispers, rewarding you by moving faster now, each stroke deeper, more deliberate, reading your every reaction to the way she pumps you, timing her fingers with your stuttering breaths.
She likes—loves—taking care of you, making you feel good, there’s a thrill in it for her, knowing that she’s the one who can make you this vulnerable, this desperate. Her hand moves with confidence, her strokes become more insistent, her gaze hungrier, and she leans forward, pressing herself into your chest, letting you feel the softness of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples through the flimsy fabric of her top.
“Does this feel good, honey?” She asks, like she doesn’t already know the answer, like she can’t feel your hips bucking up to meet her touch. "Do you like it when I take care of you?"
You nod, unable to form words, unable to do anything but keep your eyes on Yeji and marvel at just how fucking hot she is on top of you as she strokes you. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, tickling your neck and cheeks, and her eyes—those piercing, all-knowing eyes—affixed to yours, holding you hostage.
“God, I love this cock,” Yeji murmurs between kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck, “so big, so hard… All mine…” She’s so satisfied, so happy with herself—with your cock—her constant praise as much for her as it is for you. “Fuck, look how big you’re getting for me, barely fits in my hand.”
“God, Yeji,” you gasp, struggling to keep together, to keep from losing yourself in the palm of her hand, as each of her strokes, each of her words, keep coming, stroking your cock, your ego, fucking with you completely. “I’m getting close—”
“Not yet.” Yeji lets you go, leaving you panting, your tortured cock standing tall and missing her attention.
Before you can even mount a protest, she’s sliding up your body, stretching above your head to grab the hospital bed remote, smothering you with the soft mounds of her breasts as she does so. You groan into her, forced to feel the weight of her pressing down on you, the warmth of her skin against yours, teasing you in a way that’s both infuriating and heavenly.
With a click, the bed whirs into action, reclining back until you're flat on your back, staring directly up at her. She kneels over your head, and there’s the outline of her pussy through the fabric of her leggings, all swollen and damp and begging for your tongue.
She doesn’t have to look to know she has your undivided attention—she's pulling her shirt and her top over her head, setting her breasts, ripe and full, bouncing free from their confinement. No bra today (of course she didn’t, what would be the fucking point?) and you get a full view of those perfect tits, her dark, pebbled nipples already stiff for you.
“It’s your turn to take care of me.”
Yeji lowers herself onto your waiting mouth, lets out a noise that’s so needy, so fucking greedy, as your lips meet her heat for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
“Fuuuuuuck…”
You kiss, lick, nibble at her, tease her, groan into her thighs, as she urges herself against you, making you breathe in the scent of her sex, so immediately wet for you.
It’s not nearly enough for either of you—you need to feel her against your lips, your tongue. You move your hand up her thigh and towards her hip, digging your fingers into her waistband. But Yeji stops you again, and says the four most pleasant words in any language. “Just fucking rip them.”
There’s no hesitation—she lifts her hips off your face, you snake your hand between her legs, take one end of the fabric between your fingers, and another in your teeth: one quick, sharp yank, and you tear. The nylon gives way with a satisfying rip, and Yeji shivers above you as the cool air hits her full, puffy, exposed cunt.
“Mmmph, yesssss,” Yeji hisses as you pull her back down onto your lips, shuddering as you kiss that lovely crease where her thigh meets her pelvis, her pleasure vibrating through your own skull. She quivers, shifts, needy for your lips on her naked pussy, and she pleads, “stop teasing… I need it…”
You smile against her skin, your breath ghosting over her pussy, making her squirm. "What's the magic word?"
"Now," Yeji says, her voice firm, her thighs so magnificently tense. "The magic word is now."
With that, you give her a long lick, starting from the very bottom of her pussy and moving upward, tasting every millimetre of her juicy cunt, tracing the entire length of her slit, ending with an indulgent flick of her clit.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Yeji cries out, shivering, falling apart as your tongue finds that sweet spot, her thighs tightening around your neck. Her hands come down to either side of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place as she starts to rock back and forth, setting her own rhythm, matching her hips with the pace of your tongue. “God, you’re so fucking good at that, always so fucking good at that.”
She’s whining, so, so desperate, so pleading, and you’re eager as you taste her, explore her, will her to come apart in your mouth. You’re taking generous licks, tongue dancing around her clit, teasing it, testing her full vocal range as she cries out your name
“Oh, please, please baby, fucking please.” She’s getting wetter and wetter, coating your tongue, your lips, your chin. “I missed this,” she gasps, grinding herself against your tongue, all desperation and utter awe. “Missed you making me feel so fucking good.”
You look up, up at her as she rides your face, she’s so fucking breathtaking. Her body tensing around you and on top of you—so tight, so firm—chiselled abs honed by decades of dancing, that gorgeous curve of her waist leading up to her perky, petite tits, so lovely, bouncing with every gasp she takes.
"I'm so wet for you, honey, so fucking wet," Yeji whimpers, “you always make me so fucking wet—I can’t—ah!”
A sharp inhale, you suck her clit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the sensitive nub. She’s moaning so fucking loud, so unrestrained, echoing through the hospital room and down the hallways, loud enough to let every nurse on the floor know exactly how fucking good it feels to be on top of you. Her hips jerk, she can’t control her own body now, and you know she’s getting closer and closer, determined to ride your tongue right to the end.
Just looking at her is all it takes for you—seeing her so damn horny, so satisfied sets you on edge, needing something, anything to take your cock and match her euphoria.
“Do you want me to help you out, baby?” Yeji’s reading your mind. You groan and affirmative into the folds of her cunt, and in an instant, you go from being smothered by her juices to being faced with the full, perfect tautness of her ass.
She makes it look so easy, so graceful, lifting herself off your face and spinning around to this new position—face down, ass up.
A second later and your wishes are granted—your cock, so heavy with need, standing neglected and alone is met by Yeji’s soft, warm lips, kissing the very tip of you, tasting the drops of pre-cum that’s already leaking out of you.
“Let me make you feel better,” is all Yeji says—just one light kiss, a whisper into your cock, and she dives onto you, swallowing your cock whole. It’s far too much, far too quickly, you’re out of breath and ready to tap out as her warm, wet mouth envelopes your whole rod in one, smooth suck.
Her tongue swirls around you, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, she takes you deeper and deeper, until you’re buried down her throat. You throb inside her, her throat muscles contracting back around you, and you can’t help but thrust up into her mouth, seeking more, needing more.
“Yeji!” You cry out her name on reflex as she takes you in, her hands digging into your thighs as she works her mouth up and down, bobbing, taking you deep and noisily, smacking her lips, sloshing her tongue. Whatever pain you had lingering from your arm, your head, or your ribs, it’s all forgotten—there’s only Yeji, and her exquisite lips, doing everything she can to wring every drop of pleasure out from your body.
It's too much, too intense, and you’ve been on the edge since she first grabbed a hold on you. This can’t end now, not when she’s sucking you so hard, practically worshipping your cock. You need a distraction—pull her hips back, gently, firmly, push that beautiful ass back into your face and indulge in her again.
“Mmmph—!” Yeji moans into you as your tongue meets her cunt, the sound reverberating down your shaft and right into your brain.
And now it’s a competition—you push through her pussy with her tongue, feel her walls tightening around you. She’s pushing back into you, grinding down on you, making sure you get the full flavour of her cunt, her ass, every inch of her on your taste buds.
She’s more frantic now, moving faster, sloppier on your cock as you push her closer and closer to climax. Her tongue slides against you, her cheeks hollow out around you, she drools and dribbles down your shaft—it’s messy and wet and absolutely fucking amazing.
But you can’t let her win, not this time. You double down on your efforts, suctioning your lips over her clit and start rapidly flicking your tongue, setting a relentless pace that you know will make her crumble. She tries her best to keep up, to keep going, but she’s a mess of sucking and moaning and quivering all over your face and on your cock.
Yeji works her tongue, her lips, her mouth—she makes sure you know it’s all yours. But then, after taking you all the way to the back of her throat, your cock pops out of her mouth with a wet smack, and she lets out a cry of pure, unbridled ecstasy. “Fuck, I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna—FUCK!”
She collapses, bent over and prone, only her ass rocking and grinding against your face as she utterly, completely falls apart, ruined by just your tongue, ruined by the orgasm you’re giving her.
“So good—God—fuck—keep going, keep going, keep going!” Yeji’s voice is a chant, a prayer that you’re more than happy to answer. She’s shaking, her pussy pulsing against your face as you lick and suck at her clit, clouding your mind with the heady mix of sweetness and desire that has you hooked. She’s lost, given up and given over to you now, her moans becoming screams—“your tongue, your fucking tongue—gah!”
Her body geos rigid, locking up as she hits that wonderful peak—but you’re not ready to stop. You keep licking, keep pushing through wave after wave of pleasure that crash over her, not giving a second of rest. Her juices flood your mouth and you swallow greedily, drinking her in like it’s the only medicine you need.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck—fucking making me feel so good—God!”
Nothing fucking matters, all you know is Yeij’s cunt is on your tongue and her ass is in your face, and your only job is to keep licking her to her core, until she finally goes slack, crumbling on top of you.
She stays like that, her legs shaking like she’s just run a marathon, her nipples squashed against your chest, her gasps hot and ragged against your thigh. You can feel the staccato of her heart, and you hold her close, massaging her lower back as she does her best to catch her breath.
And yet, there you are, still throbbing, still so fucking hard and delirious with your need for her touch.
There’s no point in hiding it, she’s so close you can feel her breath on your cock, your close enough to poke her eye out with how hard you are.
“Someone’s feeling left out,” she says, as if she’s not entirely to blame. “Is that for me?”
“You know it is,” you respond, far weaker, more pleading than you intended.
A gentle, torturous kiss against your thigh, and you’re just about ready to explode in her face. “Then I guess as your dutiful, loving, girlfriend, I better do something about it.”
It’s so easy for her—one moment she’s exhausted, out of breath on top of you, the next she’s fully recovered, back on top and mounting you, facing you as she smears the tip of your cock with her wetness.
You try to sit up, eager to get straight to it, straight to fucking her like you need to, but her hands are on your shoulders and she’s pushing you back down.
“Lie down, baby,” she hushes you, pressing you down onto the mattress. “Just enjoy this.”
Her eyes narrow as she drinks in the sight of you, bursting with anticipation as she lowers her pussy onto your cock. It’s a special kind of torment, one that makes your hips buck involuntarily, so impatient to feel her warmth again.
But she takes her sweet time, and it’s only when she’s close enough, she bends down, mouth hovering over yours. Your eyes drift shut, and you wait for that soft contact of her lips, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, she whispers, "I've got you," and you feel the warm, velvety embrace of her cunt as she takes you in, inch by agonising inch.
Fully seated, her walls close around you, and that’s when she kisses you hard, her tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth with the same aching hunger of her cunt around your cock.
She tastes so damn good, feels incredible—it’s been too long, and you want nothing but to grab her, hold her and slam her hips down onto yours and drive deeper into her, but your body won’t cooperate.
You can only lay there as she starts to move, her hips rocking back and forth, slowly, intentionally, having you seeing stars. And then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, she lifts herself up off your cock, and in one swift motion, sinks herself straight back down, whispering “holy fuck yesss” against your lips.
She needs time to get used to you, used to your cock filling her whole again. “This fucking cock,” she bites your lip as she rides you, “always so big, always so perfect.”
Yeji has to take it slow, has to let her pussy stretch around you, adjust to you, before she can start to ride you, to fuck you like she really wants to. And she does want to—wants to claim you, erase any doubt about who is the one person that can fuck you like you deserve to be—so, so much.
Each movement down the length of your cock is faster than the one before, each moan into your mouth hotter, each clench of her cunt around yours so much tighter, until she’s fucking you in earnest—harder, faster.
“So thick, so, so, riiiiight,” Yeji groans.“I’ve missed this, needed this.”
She’s riding you like she’s been waiting for this forever, like this might be the last time, bouncing her ass up and down, her eyes hooded with lust, her hair a wild mess around her flushed face, her nipples swinging every time your hips meet.
“When you get better, honey, I need you to fuck me real hard,” Yeji whispers in your ear, her breath hot and tickling, thick with lust, her tight cunt milking you, keeping you on the edge of insanity. “But I’ll take care of you for now, I’ll take care of this cock—fuck I love it—I love you—I love that you’re mine.”
“You’re mine too, Yeji,” you groan back to her.
“That’s right—I belong to you and you belong to me,” Yeji punctuates her point with a hard slam of her cunt down onto your cock. "You're My. Fucking. Boyfriend."
She’s getting faster and faster now, picking up her pace, like she needs to prove something, to herself, to you, to the entire fucking hospital.
“Those other bitches can’t ride you like I do—can’t fuck you like I do,” Yeji’s panting, each word fucked out of her, coming out like a proud battle cry. She’s right, you’re sure of it—no one else can make you feel this way, no one else can take you, claim you like she can. She’s lost in it now, lost in the heat and the friction, her whole body consumed by a burning desire to show you just how good she is at this.
Yeji leans back, sitting upright, giving herself better leverage to bounce on your cock, giving you a better view of her body—all perfectly sculpted edges and soft curves—and those fucking perky tits. They’re stunning, just like the rest of her, and you reach for them on instinct, cupping the soft mounds, feeling the weight of them in your palm. Her nipples are so hard, erect, begging for your touch, and you don’t want to disappoint—could never—so you pinch and twist them, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pussy tighten around you as she cries out.
“No one can take this big fucking cock like I can—down my throat, in my cunt.” It’s a declaration—loud and proud, for every single person in the hospital to know.
“Jealous?” You grunt out the word, hoarse, rough. “Thinking about me fucking other woman like I fuck you? Making them scream—making them cum as hard as I’m about to make you?”
You can see the twist in Yeji’s face, how her pupils dilate as your words sink in. There’s a war playing out on her face, jealousy and desire, the mere thought of you fucking other woman making her pussy spasm around you. “Oh, fuck you! You would ruin them, honey, they wouldn’t be able to take you. Or is that what you want to hear? Some cute bitch screaming: ‘oh baby, oh please, oh daddy, I can’t take it—I can’t take this big fucking cock!’”
There’s truth in the mockery, and there’s a dark thrill in Yeji’s jealousy. But now’s not the time for anything (or anyone) else but her—you’re too close, too far gone, your cock throbbing with the need to spill into her.
“Only I can take it, it’s mine, mine, mine.” She’s soaking you, so needy, so deep, so fucking filthy as she whines over your cock. “You better keep fucking me—only me—or I will make your life hell.”
“Show me then,” you challenge her, and you can see something flash across her eyes—something primal, something rough.
“I’m yours,” she declares again, riding you in a way that can only be described as pure art, her whole body moving in perfect harmony with a singular goal—to be absolutely wrecked by your cock. “All yours, nobody else’s. And you’re mine.”
It takes one hard pump into her tight, sweaty body and she’s falling into you, her body pressed on top of you, her forehead pressed against yours. It’s electric, the connection between your bodies, a jolt of pleasure surging through your cock and her cunt until all that matters is the feel of her fucking you like her life depends on it.
It’s love at every thrust, every gasp and moan. Nothing but Yeji on top of you, her soft skin pressed against you, her heartbeat racing against yours, her wetness coating your cock like a silk glove. Not just pleasure, you’re claiming each other—she’s whispering it in your ear, whispering your name like a promise, a declaration of war against anyone who would dare to come between you.
“Fuuuck.” Yeji bites down on your shoulder, digs her nails in your skin, squeezes her pussy around you like a vice. “I’m gonna do it again,” she mewls, “this cock—your beautiful cock—is gonna make me cum all over again.”
She’s chasing that precious feeling, desperate for it, her hips moving in erratic circles, determined to bring you with her. You can feel it too, the beginnings rising from the base of your cock, the tension in your balls. You want to hold on, to make this last, but at this point it’s like trying to hold back a tidal wave.
“Give—fuck—give me more!” Yeji’s eyes are squeezed shut; her mouth open in a silent scream as she grinds down on you, her body trembling with the effort to keep her balance. You can see the tension in every line of her body, how her abs clench, her toes curl. It's like watching a live wire, and you're the one holding the current. "Nobody can fuck me like you do—fuck—nobody can take you like I can!"
You wrap your arm around her shoulder, holding her tight, wrenching control from her, making her prove her words with every forceful thrust. You’re going to be in pain later, but fuck all that—Yeji’s so wet, so tight, so fucking hot—she’s a force of nature, and you’re just the lucky fuck that gets to be in the eye of the storm.
“You’re going to cum in me, now, okay? I’m going to cum so fucking hard and then you’re going to cum right inside me.” Yeji’s completely given herself over to you, letting you fuck her, use her, she’s all yours anyway. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!”
And then she’s there, her cunt gripping you like a fist, her walls pulsing and quivering around you. Yeji’s eyes fly open, her gaze locks onto yours, and she’s cumming hard.
Her orgasm rips through her body, she’s choking your cock with pussy, muscles tightening and release in a painful rhythm, and all she can do is shake and cry out every filthy word she knows, every sweet noise she can make as she spills and creams and comes apart on top of you.
“It’s too much,” Yeji’s barely holding on, panting incessantly, “too-fucking-much—too-fucking-much!”
The way she looks, the way she fucks, the way she cums—it’s a thing of beauty, an absolute fucking honour to witness—every twitch, every shiver, every gasp that falls from her swollen lips. Her nails pierce your skin, her teeth threaten to draw blood, her eyes wide and wild as her climax crashes over her.
“Please-please-fucking-please!”
But she doesn’t stop. If anything, she’s becoming more insistent, more urgent, fucking back against you again, her hips moving in a blur, taking you like a woman possessed. She’s pleading for you, pleading for you to give in, to let go, to follow her into bliss. Yeji’s a woman on a mission—to make you feel her, to make you fill her and you realise that maybe this isn’t just about jealousy anymore—it’s about making you know in every fibre of your being that your cum belongs in her cunt and her cunt only.
"Give it to me," Yeji demands, “I need you to—please—fuck—cum in me!”
Every word’s a trigger, sending you spiralling over the edge. It’s been building for an eternity now, an unbearable pressure needing to find a home in Yeji’s scorching, sopping wet pussy.
“Kiss me—I need you to—need to taste—fuck—please—kiss me now!”
There’s nothing left to do but obey, bringing your hand to the back of her neck and pulling her down into a fierce, bruising kiss. Your mouths crash together, your tongues dance and entangle, your teeth clash, and all the while Yeji’s clenching around you, cunt contracting in an effort to keep you still, keep you together.
“Fill me.”
A final, triumphant spear into her and your gone—releasing, spurting your cum deep inside her—so hard, so hot, so intense, emptying everything, all of you, every last drop into her greedy pussy.
“Yesssssss—this—this is what I needed.” Yeji hums a satisfied note into your collarbone, so full, so complete, so content. She’s still slowly rocking her hips back and forth, still pulsing around you, milking you dry. “I feel so…full.”
She dissolves into a puddle in your arms, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck. Your hand finds its way to her back, tracing gentle circles, rubbing away the tension that’s been built up, the strain she’s put her body through.
She’s warm, she's so alive, and you can feel her heart beating against your chest, a stilted, hurried rhythm that's gradually slowing down. You kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, anywhere you can reach without having to strain yourself. It’s a gentle reassurance, making sure that for all the fucking and the filthiness, she knows that no matter what happens, you’re there to make sure she’s okay.
Yeji whispers an “I love you,” her words like a balm to your soul. “I really, really, fucking love you, you know?”
“I know, Yeji,” you say, low enough for only her to hear. “I really, really, fucking love you too.”
There’s still the embers of your shared climax resonating through your bodies, the come down from an epic high that’s left the two of you a tangled mess of limbs and hospital sheets. You both lay there, Yeji’s pussy still spasming around your cock, your cum and her juices dribbling down and pooling between your bodies.
“I was really worried about you.” Yeji whispers, vulnerable. The admission hangs in the air above you, a stark reminder of the fear and insecurity that’s been simmering just beneath the surface. “When they called me, I thought—I—I fucking hated that feeling.”
“I’m sorry,” you say. It’s all there is left to say.
“And I am really pissed about these nurses,” Yeji adds with a deadly seriousness, that only makes you smile. “I’m moving you to another hospital as soon as I can.”
“We just might have to after this,” you murmur, stroking her hair as you catch your breath. “No way they didn’t hear any of that.”
“Good.” Yeji declares, a little too intensely, too smugly.
You look down at her and can’t help but chuckle. “Well aren’t you all happy and copacetic now?”
Yeji looks back at you, pauses, and then grins. “Copa-what-tic?”
You can only roll your eyes. “Copacetic.”
“Wow,” Yeji starts, her voice back up an octave, laced with sickly sweetness. “Such a big, complicated word. You’re so smart.”
“Uh huh.”
“And these muscles too! Look at you all pumped and sweaty. Have you been working out?” Yeji teases, her cheeks still flushed a bright pink shade. She reaches down to give your bicep a gentle squeeze, mouthing an exaggerated ‘wow’ in amazement of its size.
“I did just finish a pretty intense workout. Might’ve even got another concussion from having my brains fucked out.”
“In that case, as your nurse it’s my responsibility to get you good and clean.” Yeji’s kissing you again, soft and slow. “Come on now, let me give you a good, nice scrub.”
“Is this going to be a reciprocal thing, you wash my back, I wash yours?”
“Why don’t you come with me and find out?” Yeji slides off your cock, peeling herself off your sticky body, and lifts herself up and off the bed.
You watch as she stretches, her body a glorious mess of grace and sweat and cum, and for a moment you’re just in awe of her. She’s glowing, and she’s not even trying.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” Yeji winks, already sauntering away from you and towards the bathroom, her hips swaying, her ass calling for you with each perfect bounce. “It’s time for some serious physical therapy. Nurse’s orders.”
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Ironically Horny
Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Reader
Warning(s): SMUT, 18+, YK THE DRILL 🙄😠 (i hate writing but woowoo x reader/oc writers are not that many and it kills me), ugly writing i did not proofread anything, aphrodisiac, no plot just porn, belly bulge, lmk if I'm missing smth else! Thanks
A/N: guys, idk what i'm doing /srs, so please beware—I might be insane as I wrote this. I'M LOOKING AT YOU. This ain't canon ok? Also, [N. Name] means nickname!! Guys, pls comment....
"Hu… angh!" You clenched the bedsheets abrasively as you realized that indulging feeling kick in your lower belly again.
A bulge continuously vanished and reappeared with each thrust this bastard, Sung Jinwoo, gave you. With a numb mind, you looked at the headboard with your eyes remained moist with tears as the raven haired man ruin you completely with his cock.
He was big. A bit too big.
"Jin'oo, ah… hic," your head attempted to raise but failed and fell flat against the pillow. The sound of his grunting made you weak although you knew this sort of act wasn't romantic at all.
Jinwoo flipped your body, making you view his rock-hard and impressive abs—but he realized that it was completely useless as you clearly couldn't even see it properly as your mind had gone blank long ago because of his relentless pounding.
In the stillness of the night, his rough shoving echoed through your bedroom. Jinwoo watched you cry, you, who was always tough-looking.
Jinwoo traced his fingers along your neck and placed a hickey there. He did it once, twice, and before he knew it, he couldn't stop until he realized he finally came again for the nth time.
So, how did you guys end up like this? Well—
"What the—I-I'm poisoned?" Your displeasure was clear as Jinwoo looked at you, and it appeared that you were looking at your system albeit not visible in his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"System said ordinary potions wouldn't work, not to mention, I'm no healer either."
"What?"
You contemplated the words written on the blue screen despite the multiple times you've analyzed it. When new words began to appear and soon you understood, your face went pale.
"[Name]?" Jinwoo had never seen you like this before. He felt a knot of worry twisting in his stomach. It was so unlike you to be this troubled.
"Jinwoo, please kill me."
"What???"
He saw your lifeless eyes, as if you failed to accept something too deep. "Kill me. Living is already humiliating enough."
"What's wrong with you? What did the system say, anyway?"
"I'd…" cheeks burning in mortification, you ended up crouching. "Oh, Lords, this is so fucking embarrassing. The hell." You whispered the last part.
You cursed like a mantara and Jinwoo watched as you slowly lost your mind.
"Just—" he almost sighed. "What does it say?"
"I… I have to…" The other player had never once witnessed you falter with your words nor look as if you wanted to disappear right this instant. "Sex… Do intimate shit. Oh…? …! Fuck, it also told me it's not poison, but an aphrodisiac!"
Jinwoo was speechless.
"... Where in the world am I gonna find a sex partner?"
That was a problem, until he offered himself.
He was just being… helpful.
Your body trembled. Letting out a strangled moan, your eyes began to be coated with tears as you recognized Jinwoo's hot spill inside of you beginning to form.
He was a quick learner, once he grasped how much touching your clit and hitting that sweet spot slightly above pleasured you, he didn't back down. No, not after he was told that possible complications might arise if he didn't help you sooner. Not to mention, there was a time limit. A time limit that he had to cum inside you (he was given 2 hours to spill his seed inside for at least 7 times, just what the fuck?) to cure whatever dilemma that monster had thrown at you. It was ridiculous.
Initially, he didn't think it'd work in one hundred and twenty minutes, but after he'd made you cum and squirt for the first time, God knew how much he wanted you right then and there.
One more to go. Jinwoo pulled you closer to his pelvis, not daring to pull his cock out. Sweat was all over the two of you, but he had no time to stop, for he only had 10 minutes left to finish this.
He unexpectedly stopped his plan momentarily when you whined. What? Had he lost track? Maybe you were starting to get uncomfortable since he'd been rough on you for almost two hours. He should stop—
"Jin'oo…" you sobbed softly. He swore he'd never seen anything so beautiful before. "'t hurts… Hurry… D-don't stop… Please."
He looked down at you like a predator and breathed heavily at the sight of you. He sat up, shoulders broad as he held your waist, his dick twitching inside you. Was he getting worked up? Fuck.
Ablush crept up to his face at your adorable begging, but he knew you were out of consciousness as we speak. If you keep nicely pleading him to fuck you, then he might not be able to stop.
He scrutinized your gorgeous body that he secured in his hold. Jinwoo tried to push his dick deeper to which you cried at—and seeing that bulge on your lower stomach made him slightly (so) proud. It was nice that he could touch something that could stand as a proof that he was inside you.
"You…" He leaned down and kissed your temple. You grabbed his cheek and caught his lips into a deep kiss. Jinwoo wasn't able to help himself but return the gesture with equal reason.
The raven haired man didn't pull away until he felt your breath running out and again, he blushed red as he gazed at your panting situation.
He ruined you in a good way.
"Let's finish this, all right?" He kissed your temple so sweetly. "I'm sorry, I have to go rougher since we only have a few minutes left, but I can't risk any future difficulty happening to you, [N. Name]."
You nodded eagerly, and before you knew it, you were being pounded into oblivion again.
#sung jin woo x reader#sung jinwoo x reader#smut#solo leveling x reader#solo leveling#idk what I'm doing ok?#sung jinwoo smut
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Love Plug
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”
tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k
🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕
Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.
Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.
There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.
You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.
Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?
John: define out. Who is this
Unknown number: shit
Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times
Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n
John: I remember you
John: how much do you need?
Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?
John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour
Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.
When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.
“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”
You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.
“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”
You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.
You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…
You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.
When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.
John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”
“Thank you.”
You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.
“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.
“Hmm?”
“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”
“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”
John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.
“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.
“Is that a rosé?”
You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”
“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.
John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”
“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”
“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”
“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.
“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”
“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”
“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”
“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.
John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”
“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”
“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”
His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.
Is he asking you out?
Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”
“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”
You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”
“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”
The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.
“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.
“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.
“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”
You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”
“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”
So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.
John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.
“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.
“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”
You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.
The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.
“It’s going,” she sighs.
“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”
“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”
“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”
“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.
“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”
With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.
The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.
“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”
You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”
Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”
Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”
“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”
“After I got over how annoying you are.”
John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”
You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.
“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.
You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”
“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.
“How about you? He’s a regular?”
“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”
You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-
Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?
“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.
“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”
You consider what she’s just said.
“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”
“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”
“Hmm?”
“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”
“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”
Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”
“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”
“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”
“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”
The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”
Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”
“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.
“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”
“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”
“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.
“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”
You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.
“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.
Hyuna scoffs loudly.
“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”
“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.
“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”
“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.
You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”
“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.
“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”
You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”
“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”
“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.
“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”
“Deal.”
John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”
You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”
Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.
It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.
“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.
“What sort of movie?” you ask.
“Anything you want.”
“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”
“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”
“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”
“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”
You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.
“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.
John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.
“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”
“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”
John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”
A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.
“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.
“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”
“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.
“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.
“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”
“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.
“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.
“That’s okay,” you assure him.
“You guys up to anything fun?”
“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.
“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.
Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.
“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”
You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.
You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”
“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.
You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.
John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.
You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-
The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.
“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.
“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”
“Bad guy,” you scoff.
“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”
“You’re a softie.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”
“Says me,” you insist.
“Yeah? And how do you figure?”
You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”
“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”
You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”
“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”
You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”
He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”
You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.
Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”
You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.
“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”
“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”
God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?
“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.
Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”
“Do you wanna try it?”
The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.
Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”
He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.
You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.
“Kiss me,” you whisper.
Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.
You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.
“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.
This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.
Like he needs it.
His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.
He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.
Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.
You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.
“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”
Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”
“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.
This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.
You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.
“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”
Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”
“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.
Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.
He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.
His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.
You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.
Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”
“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”
Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”
“I’m mostly sober.”
“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”
“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”
“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.
“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”
Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.
You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.
“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.
“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”
You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”
“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”
You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.
“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.
Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.
He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.
You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.
He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.
He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”
“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”
“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”
There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.
As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.
“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.
You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.
Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.
You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.
It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-
God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.
You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.
You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.
You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”
“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”
You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-
“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-
Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.
You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.
Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”
“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.
“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.
“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.
Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”
“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.
“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”
“What if I want you now?”
“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”
“What if I want you to wreck me?”
Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”
You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”
The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.
“You know what you said earlier?”
He lets out a humming sound.
“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”
“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”
“Next time?” You cock a brow.
“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”
“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”
“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”
“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”
“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.
In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”
“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”
“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.
“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”
“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”
“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”
“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.
“Should I grab a condom?”
“Are you clean?”
“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”
You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”
He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”
“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”
“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”
You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.
You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.
Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”
“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”
He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.
“More.”
Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.
You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.
Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
“Can I-”
“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”
Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.
You’ll never be the same after this.
No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.
Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.
It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.
“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”
“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.
With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.
“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”
Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.
“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”
Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”
“Me!”
“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”
“Me!”
“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.
“I’m gonna-”
“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”
All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.
You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.
Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.
As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.
He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”
“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.
Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”
When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.
You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.
“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”
“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”
“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”
You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit
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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
bonus
You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.
Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.
If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.
No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him
You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.
Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.
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watermelon sugar; CHARLIE MAYHEW
"fuck," the curse tumbled from your lips on a sob the word seeming to back right back off the walls of the house of prayer you found yourself in, back arching from your arched position in the wooden chair as you tried to push at charlie's head, palm pressing into his forehead. his strong arms were wrapped around your thighs, one hand against your lower tummy- pressing down in order to hold you back down and it was driving you insane. you couldn't move away from his mouth, from the constant pressure he was applying to your already oversensitive clit. "char- father, please, s'too much."
you'd lost count of how many times he'd made you cum, how long he'd been buried between your thighs, mentally cursing yourself for not questioning his mention of a penance earlier. the church hallways completely silent and peaceful. it was a good thing it was practically in the middle of the night because the sounds- the sinful sounds charlie had been pulling from you definitely shouldn't fall on others ears. it felt like it had been hours since he'd pressed you back into the lounger and settled between your legs, mid-length modest-like skirt discarded elsewhere onto the floor, his tongue finding home on his favourite spot. when charlie went down on you, he often forgot to come back up. convincing you this was a way to rejuvenate and purify you’re innocence, it was ironic since you knew good and well it was the opposite.
he got lost in the way you tasted, in the noises he could get you to make, in the way your legs shook around his head and your back arched off whichever surface he'd set you on. he was obsessed with how sweet you were and how just a few teasing flicks of his tongue could have you dripping down his chin, obsessed with the way your head dropped back giving him more exposure to your neck, your view being met directly with the sliver crucifix hanging from the wall, something so sick he seemed to enjoy. he was even more obsessed with the quiet whine that always slipped from your lips on the first press of his tongue into your leaking hole. it drove him crazy to hear the soft gasp of his name when his nose bumped your clit and he just had to hear it again. and again.
"father-," that was the gasp, the soft hiccup and hitch of your breath as you shook your head, gripped the edge of the wooden seat so tight you were afraid the side might pierce your skin. from between your thighs dark eyes met yours, tongue flat to lick up the entire length of you before he sucked your clit between soft lips. your entire body shook, still so sensitive from coming only seconds before and being allowed no time to recover. "it- it hurts."
charlie made a sound low in the back of his throat, tongue soft over your clit as he tried to work you up again. his eyes were a little glazed over, slightly unfocused with lust and you knew he'd gone into that headspace. the one that meant he wasn't going to let up on eating you out until you uttered that one meaningful word. he kissed at your clit before dipping his tongue into you, pressing it so deep your mind went foggy.
"you're okay, sweetheart, just gimme one more. for me,, yeah? one more f’me" he reassured, you whimpered at his words, felt your pussy gush and spasm at how hot he looked like this. he was so fucked out, barely registering anything around him besides getting you to cum again, getting to taste even more of you than before. when he shifted his chin glistened with your release, lips wet and sticky and it made your tummy tighten, hips wiggling beneath his large palms.
"but-"
"shh, one more i promise my dear." charlie pressed you a little harder into the lounger, dipped his head again and kissed around your pussy, nuzzled into you until you were whining at how messy he was being how dirty. your clit throbbed when he teased over it, pussy over sensitive and just bordering on sore, hole fluttering around nothing because he was yet to press his fingers or cock into you. he'd made you cum countless times with his tongue alone, something you knew he'd pride himself on when he finally pulled himself out of this state if it wasn’t a sin.
"y'said that after the last one."
"m'sorry, baby, just taste so good. one more, please, just one." charlie was begging, actually begging, his voice whinier than normal and you'd be lying if you said it didn't have you gushing a little more. he pressed your thighs a little further open to give him more access and kissed the supple skin the sting pained you in the best way, nipped hard enough to leave behind marks before going back to your pussy.
"you can give me one more, yeah?"
you were nodding before you could even register his words, head falling back once more as charlie gazed a little unseeing at the space between your thighs. he used his thumbs to spread you open a little more, kissed your clit just once before pulling his head back again. there was a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he was going to do next and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his spit drip from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and the lounger beneath you.
charlie's mouth was back on you immediately, licking and sucking, being overly messy and noisy as he groaned into your swollen flesh. your legs started to shake almost straight away, the knot in your tummy tightening when he focused all his attention on your clit. you gripped at his head to keep you grounded as moans and cries slipped from your lips, tears gathering in your eyes at the constant overstimulation.
he got lost again in your taste and your voice. he let his eyes close, moaned around your clit as he sucked it back between his lips and in the back of your head you knew it wouldn't be only one more.
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Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…
So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”
This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤
By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')
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Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program
Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
--------------------------------------------------
LUCIFER
It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off
A large portal behind your back
For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year
The portal that you've been waiting for
But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has
The comfort that he seek for
And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it
But he hides it off with a smile and a wave
He waved at you one last time before you turned around
"Uhm... I feel weird-"
What?
The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion
That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground
The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before
And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.
Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?
IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-
MC..?
He looked at you shock
No, more like-
He looked at your new form, shocked.
The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...
Right in front of them..?
He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him
But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone
Now he can't even embrace you.
All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.
You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal
He's left there, shocked and speechless
He didn't know what the hell just happened
But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back
And you're going to show that expression to him one more time
But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.
MAMMON
This man is bawling his eyes out
His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.
He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you
Even for just a moment
But no,
You won't even let him have the peace of mind
Or leave him with a nice memory
Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!
But you know what more you did?
You turned into a human!
Your human form!
Naked!
He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute
He just stood there with a flushed face
A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you
And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.
Gosh
You drive him insane
Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.
LEVIATHAN
This one too is bawling his eyes out
While holding his camera of course
He's filming every part of this
He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.
His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...
His eyes shot open and his tears stopped
Are you okay..?
. . .
He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow
And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.
Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser
He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape
He doesn't know what's happening
But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it
Everything
The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself
And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression
But the moment you left, he hid the camera
This film is for his eyes only...
He's gonna need this for a 'project'...
And you know what else he needs?
Tissues.
SATAN
He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave
But you know deep down some anger is boiling
Considering how hot his pact mark is getting
Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?
He can't help but roll his eyes internally
But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke
"I kind of... Feel weird-"
And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking
Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body
He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him
He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush
Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body
Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him
He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him
He's looking at you
With a foreign expression in his face
So he also looked at you and...
Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?
You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal
He just remained still
Looking at the ground where you once sat
He can't move, he's shaking so much...
He feels like he's about to explode...
ASMODEUS
"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed
He loves you so much!
Just why do you have to leave him!
He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye
But what about him?
Why do you have to leave him too!
I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!
He can't help it-
What do you mean you're feeling weird?
He's slowly walking to your direction
But you started to glow..?
Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around
Oh wait...
Oh...
You're...
Naked...
His mind is scrambled
He completely stopped working
And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.
BEELZEBUB
He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms
He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants
Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving
But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't
He's sad and happy at the same time
He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then
But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...
Huh?
You're feeling weird..?
You're glowing, MC!
He's shaking Belphegor awake now
What's happening to you-
. . .
He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes
But he's secretly peaking through the gaps
Your flushed face...
Looks so cute...
You look...
You looked delicious...
Just enough to eat...
Now he's hungry.
Hungry for something... New?
Something that includes you.
BELPHEGOR
He's awake actually
He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you
But when you were about to leave
He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel
Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber
But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?
His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep
But suddenly everyone dropped silent...
So you finally left?
Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-
MC?!
Why the fuck are you glowing now?!
No no no...
Is it the work of some demon?!
Who-
. . .
You're... Naked...
In front of everyone...
Haha...
Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't
But he knows you won't like that.
So he clinged to Beel-
Haha...
Why do you look like that?!
That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed
Immidiately.
"Hmm... What a shame~"
He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.
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CHERRY - M.S
summary; you finally decide to lose your virginity to your boyfriend, and he pops your cherry.
warnings; smut, losing virginity, pet names (nothing crazy people, just baby and stuff), tit sucking, fingering, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it up, ho).
a/n; i'm writing this at 2am so let's not expect shakespeare up in this bitch. anywho, if you have any suggestions/recommendations for other content, then lmk!
★ ° . * ° . °☆ . * ● ¸. ★ ° :. ★ * •
'Hey baby, just finished filming'
'I'm driving to urs rn'
Matt's texts came up on my phone, and I instantly got a spark of excitement. We haven't been able to see each other often because he's been busy with filming, and I've been busy with work.
I get up from my bed and decide to squeeze in a quick shower before he comes. Walking back into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my body, I picked one of Matt's shirts, which he left the last time he was over, and a black, lacey thong.
Just as I was about to throw my hair up in a bun, I heard a knock at my door. I pranced to the front door and swung it open.
"Hiiiii," I squeal lunging into his chest for a hug, the smell of his cologne taking over my senses. God, he smelled so good; Matt always smells amazing.
"Hi, baby," He replies, engulfing me in the hug completely. He brings his hand up to cradle my head and softly moves his thumb back and forth.
"I've missed you," I muffle into his chest. We haven't seen each other in almost two weeks, which was an insanely long time considering we live ten minutes from each other.
We eventually make it from the front door, and we are lying on my bed watching Spongebob. But I can't concentrate on the cartoon with Matt so close to me.
I know we've been dating for over a year, but I still get so nervous around him. He's my first real boyfriend, and of course, he looks like he was sculpted by God himself. I really don't know what I did to get so lucky.
I turn my head to look at him, and he's concentrated on the tv. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed from how focused he was on the episode, and his jawline was covered in stubble.
The more I looked at him, the bigger the heat between my legs grew. I subconsciously pressed my thighs together to create some kind of friction, but it didn't help at all.
At that moment I decided that I was ready. I was ready to give myself to him completely. I was ready for him to make me his in every way possible.
"Matt," I whispered.
My words are so quiet that I wasn't even sure if Matt had heard me. I repeat myself, and he turns his head to make eye contact with me.
"I'm ready, Matt," I say shyly.
I don't know how he was going to react. I know Matt has had a girlfriend before me and that he lost his virginity to her, so this might not be a big deal for him, but for me, it was huge.
The furthest me and Matt have ever gone is some heated-makeout touching. We've never seen each other below the waist, so this was definitely a big step for me.
"Ready for what, my love?" He asks, with genuine confusion in his tone.
"To lose my virginity," I'm so embarrassed admitting this, but he doesn't seem to be disturbed one bit. Actually, he seems surprised.
"Baby, we don't have to do anything, you know that, right?" He says, trying to reassure me, but I know what I want.
"I know, I want to," I say, my confidence growing. I crawl over to him and throw one of my legs over his lap so that I'm now straddling him.
He brings his tongue out to wet his lips before analysing my face for anything other than certainty. He then moves his hands to my hips, resting them there softly.
"I love you so much..." He speaks carefully, "...and I don't want to hurt you, so you have to tell me to stop or slow down if I do hurt you even though I'll try my best not to," his face is completely serious and there isn't a hint of laughter in his voice.
I nod in agreement to his statement, and he nods back, making a silent promise to eachother.
He then brings his left hand up to my cheek and tilts my head as he brings his soft lips to mine. The kiss was painfully slow and tender, as if he could break me by moving too fast.
I move my hands to the nape of his neck, tangling my fingers into his curls. I tug at his hair carefully, and a low groan escapes his lips. Fuck, I'm so wet for him. This is when I remember I'm only wearing lace underwear, meaning my wetness is likely seeping through and marking his clothes. That shouldn't turn me on, but it does.
The kiss begins to get heated, and my need for relief is growing. I subconsciously begin to rock my hips on his thigh, and his hands dig into my skin.
He pulls away from the kiss and moves his mouth to my ear, "Let me take care of you, baby," He whispers.
He delicately flips us over so that I'm now lying on my back, and he's hovering over me, his hands sinking into the mattress near my head. He leans down and peppers kisses on my neck, slowly moving further down onto my collar bone.
One of his hands begins to wander, making sure to touch every curve on my body. He then reaches the hem of my (his) shirt.
"Can I undress you?" His words are so innocent, but they drive me insane. I want him to do more than undress me, I want him. Now. But I know I have to be patient. I nod at his request.
"I need words, baby, please," He pleads. God, could this man get any sexier. I was losing my composure by the second.
"Yes, please, take it off," I reply, in the same tone. He wastes no time sliding the oversized shirt off my body, and I can see his breathing halter when he comes face to face with my bare tits.
He slowly lowers his mouth to the valley of my breasts and places a row of meaningful kisses before shifting his attention over to my left breast. He places a kiss on my hardened nipple before taking it into his warm mouth, I gasp at the feeling.
He plays with my nipple as he swirls his tongue over it and then lightly sucks on it. I let moans spill from lips, which only encourages him to keep going.
After a few moments, he releases it from his mouth and pays the same attention to my right one.
"Matt, please, I need you," I say, beginning to get restless. He's showing me attention in all the wrong places.
"You've gotta be patient, baby," He speaks, a smile forming on his lips. I bet he finds this so amusing; getting me all hot and bothered but not relieving any of the pressure he's creating.
He finally begins to make his way to my last piece of clothing, and without warning, I feel his hand cup me over my underwear. He runs his thumb back and forth over my clit, making me shudder.
By now, I'm a water park. I'm soaking, and my wetness has seeped through my underwear completely.
"You're so fucking wet," he says, bringing his fingers to toy with my wet underwear. I moan at his words.
He hooks his fingers on each side of my panties and slowly shimmies them off me, leaving me completely naked in front of him. I feel the blood rush to my face. I can't believe I'm completely naked in front of him. He can sense my embarrassment and instantly clears me of any doubts.
"Baby, you're so beautiful, I'm so blessed that I get to see you like this. Thank you for blessing me,". I melt at his words. His words instantly reassure me, and my embarrassment fades away.
He places both of his hands on my thighs, slowly parting my legs so that he could see me in my entirety. My wet cunt is now exposed to him and see his breathing hitch.
"Fuck, you're so perfect," he whispers underneath his breath, taking in the view before him. He brings his middle finger to my slick folds, collecting all the wetness he could, then bringing that same finger to his mouth and sucking it clean.
My pussy is throbbing for him. I need him so unbelievably bad. He then looks at me before speaking again, "I need to stretch you out a little before we have sex. Otherwise, it'll hurt a lot more. Will you let me do that?".
His words were soft but yet firm. He really did want to take care of me and ensure that I was enjoying every bit of this as much as he was.
"I trust you," I reply, giving him a small smile. He returns the smile and lowers his gaze again.
He once again brings his middle finger to my pussy but instead of messing around, he went straight for my hole, slowly sinking his finger into me.
I instantly threw my head back. This was nothing like I've ever felt before. He looked back up to me to make sure I was okay before slowly taking his finger out and pushing it back in.
"Fuck, Matt," I breathe out, slowly gripping the sheets beneath me.
"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so good," his praise makes me even wetter, allowing for his finger to slide in and out of me easier.
"Think you can take another one f'me?" He says, watching my pussy swallow his finger.
"Mhm," I can't get any words out with my bottom lip pulled between my teeth.
I then feel another slender finger approach my hole. He slowly pushes the second finger in and it definitely hurts more than the first. It's almost a burning sensation, it hurts so good.
He let's me adjust to the feeling of both fingers in me before beginning to pump them in and out similarly to the first time.
After a few moments of pumping, he pulls both fingers out completely. I shudder at the loss of contact and was about to question why he stopped until I saw him reaching for his belt buckle.
This is what I've been waiting for. Fuck, I'm so nervous but so excited too.
"Baby, are you sure this is what you want?" He asks once again.
"Not really, I'm only doing this for you," I say jokingly.
He halts his movements completely, "I don't joke about consent, baby," He says firmly.
"I'm sorry, of course I want this this baby, I promise," I say, reassuring him. He nods before going back to unzipping his jeans.
Before removing his jeans, he brings his hands to his top, removing both his shirt and vest in one swift move. He then pulls down his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. I look at the imprint of his cock on his boxers and fuck did he look big.
He finally slid his boxers down, his cock springing out, glad to finally be free from all restraints. I gulp at the sheer size of him. I didn't expect him to be so big. He's at least seven inches, and his tip is red, glistening with pre-cum.
I can see something crosses his mind and he immediately becomes upset.
"What's wrong?" I asked confused.
"I don't have a fucking condom," He sighs annoyed. It's silent for a moment before I speak up.
"Can't you pull out?" I ask innocently.
"I can if you want me to, I'm just scared I'll be so consumed by you that I'll forget completely," he says half seriously and half joking.
"I already told you, Matt, I trust you," I assure him, he nods at my words.
"Alright, my love, if it hurts or if it becomes too much, please tell me to stop, push me off you, tell me to fuck off, anything, just stop me, okay?" He says. I know this is the bare minimum, but the way he cares for me and the way he wants me to also enjoy this is so meaningful to me.
"I promise I will," I say, smiling at him once more.
He adjusts himself so that he's now hovering over me, with one hand near my head on the mattress and his other hand between our bodies, guiding his cock to my entrance. I feel his tip at my entrance, and he slowly grinds his hips forward so that his cock can just about enter me.
He pushes more and more forward until a slight look of discomfort is present on my face.
"Fuck, you're too big, Matt," I say, looking down to where our bodies are connected and seeing that he's not even half way in. There's no way his entire dick is fitting inside of me.
"I know, baby, but you can be a good girl and take it, can't you?" He says, lowering his head to my neck.
"Mhm, I'll take it so good for you," I agree. His words make me even wetter, my wetness coating his cock.
He pushes himself further into me, and there's a burning sensation again, but it's not too noticeable due to the fact that Matt had just previously stretched me out. He was right. It definitely did help.
With one final buck of his hips, I felt his pelvis against my folds. He was completely in. I let out a sigh, feeling him entirely inside me.
As he's pulling out, I look down at our connection. This is when I notice red stuff on his cock. I became confused. Is that blood??? Was I bleeding? Fuck, that's so embarrassing. But it didn't even hurt that much, there's no way I'm bleeding from that?
Questions and concerns fill my mind to the point where I can't keep it to myself.
"Matt..." I speak softly.
"What's wrong, my love?" He instantly notices something is wrong.
"Am I bleeding?" I say, looking back down between us. He follows my gaze and sees the blood coating his cock.
"Oh babyy, don't worry about it, you had me worried," he says as if I'm not literally bleeding.
"Why am I bleeding?" I ask, I want to know why this is happening.
"It's just because I broke your hymen baby, in other words, I popped your cherry," he smirks. He's essentially saying that I'm officially not a virgin anymore.
I can tell this turns him on. The fact that he was the one I trusted with this special moment means a lot to him, and it means a lot to me too. I'm glad I'm able to share my 'first' with him.
He resumes his movements and begins to pump his dick back into me, this time at a slightly quicker pace. My pussy adjusts to him very quickly, and from this point forward it's all pleasure.
A few moments later and he's established a rhythm. It's not too fast but not too slow, and he's hitting all the right spots. I can't stop the moans from spilling out of my mouth, which motivates a few moans and groans to also flee his lips.
"M-Matt, fa-faster...please," my broken request is immediately fulfilled as Matt's hips pick up the pace. I feel my orgasm building up, and if he continued like this, I'd be coming all over his cock in a few minutes.
He continued his movements without faltering once, and the only sounds that could be heard is the sound of our skin connecting repeatedly with the mixture of my moans and his panting.
"I'm s-so c-close, Matt," I moan.
"Fuck, me too," He says, speeding up ever so slightly. He then brings his hand down between our bodies to rub my clit and this was my final straw. My orgasm came crashing down, and I almost saw stars. I felt my pussy spasm around his cock which was still rhythmically pumping in and out of me.
"FUCKK, JUST LIKE THAT," Matt moans as he pulls his cock out from me and jerks it off at the speed of light. His mouth falls open and his eyebrows are scrunched together. That sight was almost enough to make me finish again.
Suddenly, hot, white cum shoots out and lands on my stomach. He milks his cock for all of it before pressing his sweaty forehead against mine.
"Shit, babe, that was amazing," he pants, before getting up to get a towel to clean us up.
"Are you okay?" He asks as he's wiping his cum from my stomach.
"Yeah, I'm just in shock," I smile. He smiles back and he grabs my shirt from the floor, and pulls it over my head. He then gets back in bed and pulls me onto his chest.
The rest of the evening was mundane, we watched more tv, ordered food, and cuddled until we fell asleep but this is a day I will never forget.
The care and love that he treated me with was indescribable and I will forever be grateful to him that he made my first time as special and memorable as possible.
★ ° . * ° . °☆ . * ● ¸. ★ ° :. ★ * •
a/n; this was lowk longer than I thought it was gonna be lmaoo. anywayy, i hope you enjoyed reading it. if u have any suggestions for future fanfics or other content in general lmk! love you sm <33
#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut
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Your writing is insanely good!! I desperately need more of jealous/possessive young!snow making it clear to reader that she’s his and only his. bc “If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” floored me
jealousy, jealousy |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
prompt: as requested above, coriolanus is jealous. briefly mentions jealous girl so tagging it here for those to read.
contains: dark, possessive, jealous coriolanus. established relationship. slight manipulation (it's coriolanus).
You were being polite, he knew that. These things were boring and you were simply finding a way to keep yourself occupied, the rational side of Coriolanus told himself that as he watched you from across the room.
Vulcan was simply a friend, the two of you had gone to Academy together, all through primary and secondary schooling. His family was on the council, which meant your schooling would have been together. Coriolanus didn’t despise him, tolerated him, truly. He thought he was respectable and well mannered, and gave lots of funds to his cause.
Why did he have to touch your arm like that?
Corio’s grip was so tight on his glass he was sure it would shatter between his hands, cut his palms, slice the skin and trail blood all over the white, marble floors. He had half a mind to do it, maybe that would pull your attention back to him. Have you by him doting and fussing over him, cleaning the glass out of his wounds, bandaging him up because he trusted no one but you.
Your laugh was crystal, trilling through the air straight to his own heart. How bitter it made him that he wasn’t the one making you laugh.
Instead, you were laughing with your school friends, Vulcan the center of your attention, entertaining you.
“Pardon me,” Coriolanus nodded to Dr. Gaul and the others, passing his glass to an Avox. “I must go see the Mayor.” He bowed out politely, always poised, even when his belly was burning with jealous rage.
He bypassed the Mayor, heading for you instead. “Oh,” Your friend saw you before he did. “President Snow.” She smiled, nudging you gently.
You turned, and for a moment, Corio’s jealousy was wiped away. Your dazzling smile, eyes lighting at the sight of him. It made his own heart flutter. “Darling,” You greeted, reaching your hand out for him. “Are you finished?”
Coriolanus could tell the champagne had taken its toll on you, loosening you more than he would have necessarily liked. He chose not to mention it, taking your hand politely, pulling you to him gently. “For now, I just have a break.” Corio muttered, eying the man in question, Vulcan, who had taken a step back.
“Vully,” You grinned, your gaze leaving him. Corio bristled at the loss of your attention, even more at the nickname. How dare you? “You must tell Coriolanus the story. He’ll find it so amusing.”
“Oh, I’m sure he has his own that would rival mine. He mentored the games with Lucy Gray.” Vulcan said politely.
“No, you must tell the story.” You insisted with a grin. “Corio, Vulcan was in the games after yours, and he had to mentor the feral child from District Ten-”
“-I hate to interrupt.” Coriolanus gritted, teeth bared in a tight smile he tried to pass off as genuine. “But I need you for a moment.” He looked down at you, hand wrapping around your bicep firmly.
You frowned, lower lip jutting just slightly. “Oh,” You deflated. Coriolanus was sure he might kill the man in front of him, who still looked at you with the watchfulness of a hawk- a predator. How you were missing this, Corio wasn’t sure, but he’d protect you from it.
“Excuse us. We’ll be right back.” You smiled softly at your friends, lifting the train of your dress, stepping with Coriolanus.
“Where are we going?” You frowned, clutching his arm to steady yourself, walking through the doors. “Who are we meeting?”
“You’re drunk.” Coriolanus hissed, jaw clenched in fury.
You frowned, looking up at him carefully. “I’m not drunk.” You protested. “I only had two glasses-”
Corio scoffed, his hand tightening around your arm. “Two? Were they spiked then?” His eyes narrowed at the thought, cutting down to you. “Did you get them yourself or did he get them for you?”
“Did who get them? Corio, please,” You pulled back on his grasp with a whine. “You’re hurting me.”
Corio loosened his grip, pulling you into an empty hallway. “Did he give you those drinks? What have I told you about taking anything from people? They want to hurt us, hurt me, and they know that if they go for you-”
“Coriolanus,” You snapped, cutting off his erratic ramblings. “Please, I-I did not take a drink from anyone. I got it from my private bottle, poured it myself.”
Corio’s chest still heaved, the burning wildfire coursing through his veins. He felt primal need, furious anger that raged through him in a way he hadn’t felt since his days with Lucy Gray. When he was so insecure, so unsure- when he attacked the man at her show, beat him on the stage for touching her. That seemed tame compared to what he wanted to do for you- what he had done for you.
“What’s the matter, my love?” You hummed, cupping his cheek gently. “Why are you upset? Is it the Heavensbees, I told you my father said he’d speak to them-”
“-No, it’s not-” Coriolanus huffed, pulling away, hand rubbing down his face in exasperation. He tried to keep from shouting at you, always feeling sick after. He took a breath, composing himself.
“Were you talking about Vulcan?” You asked, looking up at him, even as he avoided your gaze. “You think Vulcan would poison me?”
“Maybe not poison but drug you.” Coriolanus sneered at the mention of his name. “Get you unconscious and take advantage of you. The way he was all over you, you can’t say I’m far off.”
Your mouth rounded in clarity, biting back a smile. Coriolanus was jealous. Positively green with envy- well, more red, with the flush creeping up his neck.
“Corio,” You hummed, holding his hand in yours, purposefully pressing the band of your ring into his skin. “Vulcan is just a friend. We’ve grown up together.”
“I’m not sure he knows that.” Corio spat, squeezing your hand back. “Entertaining you like that. Flirting.” He scoffed in disgust. “Down right inappropriate doing that with a married woman.”
“He wasn’t flirting.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.
“Oh?” Coriolanus countered in challenge, brows raised in feigned amusement. “He was just touching you then for… what? Friendliness?”
You blushed under his gaze, Corio towering over you, stepping towards you until you were pinned to the wallpaper, his icy gaze holding you there.
“If I recall, my beloved, you were quite upset when a friend of mine touched my arm. Nearly clawed her eyes out, causing a scene until I had to drag you out of the library because you were so upset.” Corio’s voice was dark, rasping with that gruff tone that had you throbbing, tummy flipping with rushing heat, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“That-That was different.” You stuttered, avoiding his gaze.
Corio’s finger hooked under your jaw, pulling your eyes back to him. “Was it?” He tilted his head to the side, a predatory look in his eyes. You wanted to drop to your knees right there. “So the rules don’t apply to you?”
“Corio, I-I wasn’t purposefully trying to upset you.” You huffed in exaspiration. You really weren’t, you didn’t even know that it had upset him so greatly.
“Neither was I, but that didn’t stop you from being furious with Clemensia, did it?” Coriolanus lifted a brow, head tilting in challenge.
Your nose scrunched at the mention of her name, lips twisted in disgust. “No,” You grumbled, looking away from his eyes. “Corio, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know it upset you. I thought it was innocent, truly. Vulcan is just a friend. You know my heart belongs to you only.”
“It might have been innocent for you, but I don’t trust him.” Coriolanus gritted, pressing you against the wall. “I want you to be careful, my love. You know the dangers of the world. We never know who’s conspiring against us.”
“I know, Corio.” You whispered softly, eyes rounding so sweetly up at him. “I’ll be careful. I’m sorry.”
Corio’s thumb brushed over your cheek softly, smiling at you- your heart skipped with joy. “You’re mine. You know that?”
“Of course,” You hummed sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone but yours.”
Those words, the look in your eye, it drove Coriolanus right over the edge. Hands cradled around your jaw, he kissed you with fever, body pressing right up to your own. His hands roamed over the silk material of your dress, squeezing, grabbing anything he could.
You squealed with delight when he pushed you into your shared bedroom, dragging you down the halls of the Capitol mansion until he reached your private wing. He practically pounced on you, holding you so close to his own skin. Sucking deep brusises into your jaw and neck, each mark a new claim- mine, mine, mine.
He’d make a call later, wire funds to someone who would ensure that Vulcan was dealt with. You’d hear of the news and run to him, rambling and upset about how he was right, how you didn’t know how you missed it. He’d soothe you, remind you that’s why he was here for you- to look out for you. Your father would approve even more so, another round of donations poured right into his funds, helping build his legacy. For now, Coriolanus was content between your legs, feeling you underneath him- the way you whined, squirmed, clawed at him. How you babbled his name over and over- begged for him, and for him only. His perfect girl, for no one else.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#tbosas#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x oc#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x capitol!reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus x you#young!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x you smut#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#tbosbas x reader#tbosas x reader#peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader#president snow#young president snow#tbosbas fic#ficrec#tbosbas#thg series#thg#the hunger games
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(seven) days a week, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up
this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)
--
monday.
“What? Something on my face?”
You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.
“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.
You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.
A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”
You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.
There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.
He looked the part.
Didn’t act it, though.
Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!
This conversation was awkward.
Hah.
You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.
“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”
“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.
You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”
“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”
Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.
Jungkook, however, did.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?
Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.
You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.
He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.
You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.
What?
Damn flirt didn’t even notice.
-
tuesday.
“You didn’t like him?”
“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”
“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”
Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.
“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.
You highly doubted it.
Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.
“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”
You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”
“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”
“Wait, you did wha–”
The roar of the subway train below cut you off.
“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”
You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.
Asshole.
You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.
The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.
You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.
Fuck it.
Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.
Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.
An essay.
You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.
The fuck?
You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.
I apologize for being too intimidating.
You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.
The train roared out of the tunnel.
All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.
You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ
You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?
You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.
Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?
Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.
You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.
Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.
You twitched.
Bold, wasn’t he?
You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.
Shaking a little.
You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.
Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.
You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.
Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.
You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.
Being self-aware was a bitch.
You finally sent your answer.
I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?
You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.
But maybe it would have been better to look more you.
Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.
Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?
You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.
You veered off course and headed to stand in line.
I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.
You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.
You did not just think that.
You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.
I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)
You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.
Hmph.
What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.
Hmmmmph.
Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?
You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…
I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.
Him.
-
wednesday.
The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.
Fuck!
Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!
But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.
Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.
Grr.
You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!
You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.
Big, round, dark brown eyes.
You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.
“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.
You gawked at him.
“What are you doing here?”
Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”
You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”
He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?
“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”
You stared at him.
“You’re stalking me?”
“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.
There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.
Not their business.
“I… I…”
“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.
“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”
He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.
Or lower.
“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”
And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?
Like he thought you were hot when angry.
He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.
“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.
A tiny head shake.
Ah, shit.
You deliberately did not think that was cute.
“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”
You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.
The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.
“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.
Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.
“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”
You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.
“I’m just listening to my heart.”
Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.
“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.
“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”
“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.
“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.
He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”
You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”
What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”
You let out a puff of air.
“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.
You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.
Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”
Your eyebrow twitched.
“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…
The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.
Silence.
Jungkook was staring into your eyes.
“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”
You felt your ears heat.
He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”
You grabbed his finger out of the air.
“Don’t be… weird.���
Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.
You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”
Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”
You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”
He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”
The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.
“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.
“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”
“I’m too much for you.”
Or was Jungkook too much for you?
“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”
What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.
You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.
“We’re not on the same page.”
Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”
Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.
His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.
Sparks raced along the base of your head.
You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.
“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.
Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”
You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.
Inhale still in your throat.
“Then, do you not like me?”
Say something.
But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?
People were crazy.
Call it personal experience.
You sighed.
“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”
He was smiling.
Aw, shit.
“I must be favored to know you.”
You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.
“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.
You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”
The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”
“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,
“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”
You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”
His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.
“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.
The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.
“You think you could keep up?”
-
thursday.
Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.
Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.
Which was fine.
Unless you were actually trying to do your job.
Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.
Fuckity fuck.
It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.
The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?
Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.
Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.
You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.
You sulked.
You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.
And that was the problem.
If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.
You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.
It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.
It wasn’t any particular thing.
Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.
Metaphorically, duh.
So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.
You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.
Bad addiction, yeah.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket.
You ignored it.
Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.
Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.
You don’t think I could have met you in another life?
You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.
I probably broke your heart.
Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.
Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.
You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.
What, did you need to see him every day or something?
Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.
Oh, fuck, you miss him.
You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.
Stupid.
Not him. Just you.
-
friday.
“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.
“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.
It was going really well.
Clearly.
You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.
Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.
Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"
"I'm not a virgin!"
"You are here!"
And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.
You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.
Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.
The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.
“How did you know?” he breathed out.
You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.
The fuck is going on?
“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.
This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.
“You really should stop. For your own good.”
You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.
You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.
“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”
You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.
Lightning shot across the sky.
Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.
“W… What?”
He shook his head, dripping water.
“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”
That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.
You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.
“Noona?”
You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.
You slapped his hand away.
Nothing was going to happen.
You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.
It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.
This was real life.
Not a story.
Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.
The storm raged on.
You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.
Tracing your lines.
“Fuck,” you muttered.
And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.
-
saturday.
No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.
But you knew how that would go.
Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.
For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.
You had reasons.
How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?
You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.
Damn.
You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.
Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.
“You’re a great kisser, noona.”
His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.
You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.
“Shut up.”
Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.
“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”
One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.
“Don’t follow me.”
Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.
Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.
Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.
You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.
ㅎ.ㅎ
O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.
A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.
Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.
You twitched.
Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.
Oh.
Come on.
You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.
“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”
You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.
You gawked at him.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.
The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.
You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.
For now.
You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.
“The fuck are you doing?”
Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.
“I was nearby, so I figured…?”
You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.
He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.
Well.
You weren’t right in the head either.
You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.
Did you think you would like it?
No!
“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.
Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”
The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.
You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.
“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.
“Through a… friend.”
That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.
Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.
Pretty close, in all honesty.
“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”
You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.
“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”
You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.
“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”
Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.
Fuckity fuck.
You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.
You would never recover from this.
“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.
Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?
“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.
“You kinda sound mad.���
“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“A what?”
“Where did you park?”
His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.
“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”
It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.
“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.
At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.
You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.
Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?
Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.
The corner of your lips curved upwards.
You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.
“You. Are. Crazy.”
-
sunday.
You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.
No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.
You spun in your chair, the print job long done.
Thought back on the week.
Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.
Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.
Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.
Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.
Day five, cold rain and warm lips.
Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!
You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.
Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…
What if it actually matched well?
“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”
“I don’t want that.”
“You don’t want it. But you need it.”
You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.
You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.
“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.
“Um…?”
You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.
“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”
“I don’t care.”
Kissed him, deeply.
That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.
It closed behind you.
You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.
Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.
This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.
Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.
“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”
“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”
“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.
“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.
You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.
It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.
“Woah…!”
Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.
“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”
Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.
“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.
Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.
You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.
Heh.
So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.
“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”
You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.
What?
You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.
You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.
“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”
You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.
You swallowed.
Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.
Gotta finish him off right.
You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.
“You…”
Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.
“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”
You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.
You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”
“B-But it’s true!”
You shook you head and waved a hand at him.
“Clothes. Off.”
Every hour, every minute, every second.
Full of sex.
Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.
He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.
Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.
“Harder?”
“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.
Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.
He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.
“Ah, Jungkook…”
You didn’t let it stop there though.
His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.
Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.
You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.
He got the hint.
Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.
Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.
Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.
It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.
Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.
It was like that all night.
From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.
“H-Hey!”
Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.
“Gah!”
Jungkook, too, fucked you right.
You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.
Oh.
Shit.
You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.
“Holy… fuck…”
Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.
You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.
Slowing.
Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.
Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.
Somehow at ease.
“What?”
You smiled down at him.
“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.
Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.
“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”
Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.
“Ah!”
Shoving his tongue in your pussy.
“YO!”
You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.
“There was just a condom in there!”
“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”
“Hell no!”
After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.
“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.
Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.
“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”
You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.
Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.
He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.
You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.
He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.
You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.
His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.
“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.
“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”
“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”
You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”
“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”
“What?”
You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.
“You look so beautiful laughing.”
Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.
“Shut up.”
He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.
“Will you stay?”
You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.
--
masterpost
#jungkook x reader#bts smut#jungkook x you#jungkook x noona#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you
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HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi
(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)
~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak
Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:
The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)
An insane growth spurt
Probably shell shock syndrome
And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses
TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.
It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.
One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.
A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.
With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.
Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.
Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”
“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”
“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.
“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.
“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.
Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”
“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”
“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”
“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.
“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”
“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”
“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.
“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.
“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”
“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.
Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.
When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.
“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”
“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.
“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”
You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”
“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.
“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”
“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”
“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”
“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.
—
The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.
>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow
>i’ll need to try each ball out
>you did this to yourself
>shitty driver
A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.
Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.
“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.
You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.
“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.
“Can you give me the address again..?”
“You’re a freak.”
Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.
“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.
“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.
“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”
“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”
Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.
“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.
“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”
“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”
You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.
Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.
It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.
Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.
Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.
“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”
Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.
“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”
The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.
“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”
“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”
“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”
“Do you really think I care about that?”
“...no…”
“...”
“...”
“Whatever. Do what you want.”
“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”
—
By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.
However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.
“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.
“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”
“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”
“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”
“I’m not asking for money.”
“Then what is it?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.
You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.
He really can’t wait to come home.
#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi#blue lock x reader#blue lock sae#blue lock itoshi sae#bllk sae#bllk itoshi sae#bllk x reader#bllk fluff#bllk#blue lock#blue lock fluff#this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby
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𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚
𐂂 𝚋𝚏! 𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝚐𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚/𝒏, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒕, 𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 (𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚), 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕, 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕, 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒆𝒚! 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕... 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓: 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
You tried your best not to overhear your boyfriend's conversation with his brother, but it wasn't your fault that they were talking loud enough for you to hear, right?
You were locked in Chris's bathroom, taking your time in the shower since you spent the whole day with him and you were supposed to stay the night. You wanted to clean up and refresh from your earlier activities, which included being on the beach all day, when you heard knocks on the door and someone entering Chris's room.
You thought nothing of it, continuing to clean your hair when a conversation starts to happen outside, and without intending to do so, you end up hearing all the words.
-What's up, Matt? -You hear your boyfriend's voice, slightly muffled by the closed door and the cascade of water hitting the floor.
-Hey, Chris, I was wondering if I could talk to you real quick.
They start talking about YouTube and video ideas, nothing that makes you pay too much attention until you hear your name.
-You need to quit it, man. y/n might find out, and even if she doesn't, that's not nice.
I furrow my eyebrows, wiping water out of my face and taking a few steps closer to the bathroom door.
-She's not going to find out, and it's not like I wanted to date her anyways, you know I'm scared as fuck to commit, I'm just keeping her around for a while.
His tone makes it seem like he was nonchalant about it, the way he said those words like you mean nothing to him makes your eyes fill with tears.
-You're a dick. -Matt chuckles, surprised but not quite believing his brother is telling him the truth.
-Nah, I'm just being convenient, bro. She wants me, I'm giving her a chance, I get what I want whenever I want, and I can have someone to be clingy with when I feel like it. Plus, I have company every night to sleep, so I don't need to bother you and Nick.
You can't even move. You're paralyzed by the door, hearing a conversation you were not supposed to be hearing, and now you don't even know how to act when you get out.
-Yeah, whatever, I think you're insane.
Matt leaves a few seconds later, and you wrap a towel around your body, turning off the shower faucet and trying to wipe your tears away.
You take deep breaths in front of the mirror, but it's useless. Your eyes are already red and puffy, and you can't stop crying. Your chest is aching, and it feels like your world just fell apart.
You never loved anyone like you love Chris, he was the one you thought would be forever yours, the one you wanted to marry, to have kids with, to spend the rest of your life with. And now it feels like it's all gone, all your dreams, all the plans you had, everything in your life included him and now you're feeling empty.
You slowly slip on your pajamas, splashing some water on your face and sighning before opening the door to Chris's room. His head lifts, and his beautiful blue eyes immediately find yours, his face falling when he notices your state.
-Hey, baby, what happened? -He asks, tapping the space next to him.
You sit down on his bed, crossing your legs and looking down at the space in between them, tears dripping down his sheets.
-Did you ever love me? -You ask, voice low and shaky, full of sadness.
In his heart, he knew something was up, and he couldn't help but feel guilty by the way it was affecting you. Yes, he was somehow using you, but he still had feelings for you, he cared about you, he just didn't want anything serious and was too irresponsible and immature to realize it'd hurt you that much.
-What are you talking about? Of course I love you.
Even though he seemed honest, you knew it wasn't the truth. He pulled you onto his chest, rubbing your arm gently to calm you down.
-I mean romantically. -You explain, and it was the hardest thing you ever said.
The silence, even though it didn't last long, was enough for you to understand that he needed to think if he loved you to answer it. It wasn't an automatic answer, it wasn't the first thing that came into his mind.
-Why are you asking me this? -He gives you another question in response.
It breaks your heart. He couldn't even answer.
The silence sits again, but this time, you are the one thinking. There was no reason to prolong this, to lie to yourself after you heard the words from his mouth.
-I heard you and Matt. -You whisper, lifting your head to see him, moving away from his embrace.
His eyes widen in shock and his heart beats so fast against his chest. He knew right there and then that he was losing you and the realization makes him regret every single word that left his lips.
-Baby, it's not like that, I just-
He tried to explain, desperate to keep you by his side, to make you stay and try to be a different man, the one you deserved, but it was too late.
-I think we should break up.
You never felt so sad in your entire life. The look on his face, his eyes tearing up, his lips parted in shock, the way he couldn't even process what he had just heard, and you couldn't even process what you had just said. It was the right thing to do, both of you knew that, but that broke both your hearts.
Chris was great, he was such a sweet boy and never did anything to make you mad or sad. You knew, deep down, that he just wasn't prepared to have someone with him, he didn't mean to hurt you, you weren't even supposed to know.
And Chris knew you were way too good for him. You deserved someone who truly loved you deeply and was ready to commit and give you what you so badly wanted. He wasn't the one for you. But you were the only one he ever thought of giving a chance. He might not love you romantically, but one day he got so close to that feeling that he asked you to be his and his only.
-I... You... I don't want to... -He was struggling with his words, he never thought you'd say that.
Even though he was the one telling Matt all those bad things, he was only trying to hide his fear and the way he was so terrified of the idea of losing you, and because he expressed himself so poorly to his brother he was doing exactly that. He does love you, in his way.
-I know you don't. I don't want to either. -You give him a sad smile, your hands shaking as you raise them to wipe your tears.
-So why? -He whispers, his voice cracking.
-You know why.
You never saw him like that, not even moving, so scared to say anything else, tears falling non stop and no effort to wipe them.
-I don't want to lose you. -He manages to say, his voice hoarse with all the pain he was feeling.
-You won't, I just won't be yours anymore.
Your words hit him like a shot, how could he be so stupid? Why couldn't he be just like anyone else? Why can't he feel love like everyone? Why can't he commit to something that was making him feel good? Why can't he love you?
-I'm so so sorry. -He lays his head on your thigh, hugging your legs and burying his face on your skin, not wanting to let you go.
He was so vulnerable, so emotional, and even though you should just stand up and leave to prevent things from getting worse, you move your hand to his strands, carefully caressing his hair.
-I'm sorry, so sorry, please. -He keeps begging, but you have nothing to forgive him for.
-It's okay, I promise.
-It's not, I'm a fucking idiot, I'm so sorry, I don't want to live without you.
You sigh shakily, looking away from him, trying to focus on anything else.
-I'm so scared to be without you. -He whispers, slowly sitting upright and cupping your cheeks, eyes flickering between yours.
-Please, tell me you're at least going to be my friend, I can't be without you, please tell me you don't hate me. I can't live knowing you hate me, please.
He rests his forehead on yours, keeping his grip on your face.
-I don't hate you, I could never hate you, Chris. You know I love you so much, I'll still be here for you, just not as your girlfriend anymore. -Your voice is soft and it gives him the assurance he needs.
He nods, pulling away slightly, keeping your faces close.
-I'm so sorry. Can I hug you? Please?
You smile at him, nodding and wrapping your arms around him. He hugs you tight, pressing a few timid kisses on your shoulder.
-I do love you. -He whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder.
-I know.
You sniff, closing your eyes.
-I don't know what's wrong with me.
You feel his tears wetting your shirt, but you don't care, you're doing the same with his.
-You're just scared, everyone's scared of something, you'll learn how to love someone romantically someday, it's okay, it's just not the right time.
-I'm sorry.
-Don't be.
-If one day I finally get over my fear, would you want to try again? -He pulls away, looking at you intently.
You can't help but smile.
-Of course.
He sighs in relief, looking down at his legs and nodding.
-Well, I hope you don't find anyone else. I know that's selfish, but fuck it, I just hope someday I can make things right, you're the only one I'll ever want.
You roll your eyes with a chuckle, shaking your head at how immature he was, but deep down liking it. It was nice to know that he feels this way, even though it's not the healthiest. He finally smiles at you, standing up and walking you to the front door. It was time.
-Can I text you? Tomorrow or, I don't know, just... sometime? -He asks, moving his hand to the back of his head shyly.
-Yes, Chris. -You giggle a bit. -I'll see you around, okay?
He nods, pulling you into a quick hug.
-I'll wait. -He says, letting you go.
You get into your car, giving him a quick look before driving away.
𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎
@riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @anabanana28 @flower-sturns @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @slxtformatt @starnoirr @katie-tibo @mattsfavbigtitties @sturnioloblues
#fanfic#youtube#imagine#sturniolo triplets#romance#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x y/n#chris x reader#angst#sad imagines#sad stories#angst fic#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo angst#short fiction#sturniolo fandom#chris sturniolo fluff#sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fic#sad fic#breakup#angst with a happy ending
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watermelon sugar; jude bellingham
summary: jude just can’t get enough of you
pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, minors dni, oral (f), pussy drunk jude??
notes: you can find my masterlist here.
"fuck," the curse tumbled from your lips on a sob, back arching from the lounger as you tried to push at jude's head, palm pressing into his forehead. his arms were wrapped around your thighs, one hand against your lower tummy in order to hold you back down and it was driving you insane. you couldn't move away from his mouth, from the constant pressure he was applying to your already oversensitive clit. "baby, please, s'too much."
you'd lost count of how many times he'd made you cum, how long he'd been buried between your thighs, the yacht bobbing peacefully on the blue water. it was a good thing you were practically in the middle of nowhere because the sounds your boyfriend had been pulling from you definitely shouldn't fall on others ears. it felt like it had been hours since he'd pressed you back into the lounger and settled between your legs, bikini bottoms discarded somewhere, his tongue finding home on his favourite spot. when jude went down on you, he often forgot to come back up.
he got lost in the way you tasted, in the noises he could get you to make, in the way your legs shook around his head and your back arched off whichever surface he’d set you on. he was obsessed with how sweet you were and how just a few teasing flicks of his tongue could have you dripping down his chin. he was even more obsessed with the quiet whine that always slipped from your lips on the first press of his tongue into your leaking hole. it drove him crazy to hear the soft gasp of his name when his nose bumped your clit and he just had to hear it again. and again.
“jude,” that was the gasp, the soft hiccup and hitch of your breath as you shook your head, gripped the edge of the boat so tight you were afraid the side might pierce your skin. from between your thighs dark eyes met yours, tongue flat to lick up the entire length of your pussy before he sucked your clit between soft lips. your entire body shook, still so sensitive from coming only seconds before and being allowed no time to recover. “it- it hurts.”
jude made a sound low in the back of his throat, tongue soft over your clit as he tried to work you up again. his eyes were a little glazed over, slightly unfocused with lust and you knew he’d gone into that headspace. the one that meant he wasn’t going to let up on eating you out until you uttered that one meaningful word. he kissed at your clit before dipping his tongue into you, pressing it so deep your mind went foggy.
“you’re okay, sweetheart, just gimme one more.” you whimpered at his words, felt your pussy gush and spasm at how hot he looked like this. he was so fucked out, barely registering anything around him besides getting you to cum again, getting to taste even more of you than before. when he shifted his chin glistened with your release, lips wet and sticky and it made your tummy tighten, hips wiggling beneath his large palms.
“but-“
“shh, one more i promise.” jude pressed you a little harder into the lounger, dipped his head again and kissed around your pussy, nuzzled into you until you were whining at how messy he was being. your clit throbbed when he teased over it, pussy over sensitive and just bordering on sore, hole fluttering around nothing because he was yet to press his fingers or cock into you. he’d made you cum countless times with his tongue alone, something you knew he’d pride himself on when he finally pulled himself out of this state.
“y’said that after the last one.”
“m’sorry, baby, just taste so good. one more, please, just one.” jude was begging, actually begging, his voice whinier than normal and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your pussy gushing a little more. he pressed your thighs a little further open to give him more access and kissed the supple skin, nipped hard enough to leave behind marks before going back to your pussy. “you can give me one more, yeah?”
you were nodding before you could even register his words, head falling back onto the pillow as jude gazed a little unseeing at the space between your thighs. he used his thumbs to spread you open a little more, kissed your clit just once before pulling his head back again. there was a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he was going to do next and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his spit drip from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and the lounger beneath you.
jude’s mouth was back on you immediately, licking and sucking, being overly messy and noisy as he groaned into your swollen flesh. your legs started to shake almost straight away, the knot in your tummy tightening when he focused all his attention on your clit. you gripped at his head to keep you grounded as moans and cries slipped from your lips, tears gathering in your eyes at the constant overstimulation.
jude was grinding down against the lounger, pressing his cock repeatedly into the soft cushion to find relief as he got lost again in your taste and your voice. he let his eyes close, moaned around your clit as he sucked it back between his lips and in the back of your head you knew it wouldn’t be only one more.
it was never only one more with him.
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fluff
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