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mrgoldmc26 · 19 days ago

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NewJeans Sex Adventures Part 1 ft. Danielle

Tags: Gangbang, airtight, blowjobs, facefucking, anal, creampie, anal creampie, facial, dirty talk and more...

Word Count: 11.9k

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

The morning sun was climbing higher into the Chicago sky. The Lollapalooza 2023 festival was set to kick off tomorrow, promising an incredible first day of four filled with concerts, parties, and unforgettable moments. This year’s lineup was nothing short of legendary, boasting artists like Kendrick Lamar, Billie Eilish, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and, of course, NewJeans.

My friends and I were huge fans of the K-pop group, and when we found out they were holding their first-ever U.S. fan meeting the day before their performance, we knew we couldn’t miss it. The event was taking place at Block 37, a lively shopping center near Grant Park, and we were determined to be there early.

By the time we arrived, just after 10:00 AM, the line was already massive. It stretched along the sidewalk, past storefronts and around multiple blocks. Fans of all ages were buzzing with excitement, holding signs, albums, and posters, hoping to get them signed. The air was filled with snippets of conversation about favorite songs, theories about the upcoming performance, and shared anticipation. Light sticks and NewJeans merch were everywhere, giving the scene a vibrant, festival-like atmosphere.

"My god, I can't believe we are here. I'm so excited to meat them." I said.

"I know right? And the fact that we get to watch them perform live tomorrow for the first time??? This is going to be the best 48 hours of my life." Jake said.

"I can't wait to meet Minji. She's the one I want to talk the most with." Max said.

"What about you guys? Alex? Jake? Which member do you want to meet the most?"

"Haerin for sure. That girl melts my heart." Jake said.

"I will go for Danielle. She's so hot." I said.

"Well, we will meet them all, so I'm excited about every one of them." Jake said.

"I just hope we get in. I've been to multiple fan meet events. The lines are so big, they always have a person cut the line and tell the fans to leave, because they will not get in." Max said.

"Man, I hope that doesn't happen. I will be devastated if we don't get in. Doors will only open in five hours. I don't want to sit in a line for five hours, and then wait whatever time it takes these huge ass line in front of us to move forward, just to not get in." I said, already fearing the worst.

Thankfully, we came prepared. We brought a backpack with a bunch of food, water and snacks to keep us full, our NewJeans merch, and our phones and headphones. All we did until 3:00 PM was eat and listen to music. I had no idea what Jake and Max were listening, but if I had to take a guess, I would probably say NewJeans, which was exactly what I was listening, my favourite songs being ETA and Super Shy.

Despite all this, the time went by incredibly slowly, but sure enough, eventually it was 3:00 PM, and the doors opened. This, however, changed nothing for us, as the line moved just as slow as the time did. Two hours passed, and the three of us were still outside the shopping center, and the fear that we might not get in was starting to kick in.

That fear only grew bigger when we saw a security guard move towards us. Thankfully, he moved pass us, but he did do what we feared. He cut the line several meters behind us, much to the despair of everyone behind it. I couldn't even begin to imagine what those people felt, having their dreams of meeting their idols crushed by a very big, black security guard.

One hour passed since the security guard came, and we were still outside. By now, my legs and my back were killing me, and I could tell Max and Jake were struggling as well. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the ache in my legs. Jake leaned against the wall, rubbing his lower back, while Max kept bouncing on his heels to keep his circulation going.

To make things worse, the security guard came back, and he stopped right next to us, looking at the long line.

"Right here. Everyone behind the line, you can go. There will be no time for you to meet NewJeans." He said, as I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

"No...you can't do this. We've been in this line since 10:00 AM!!!" Max said.

"This is so unfair." Jake added.

"I'm sorry, man. It's just way too many people."

"Dude, we came all the way over from Europe. Please, I'm begging you. We don't have tickets for their concert tomorrow, too. This is the only chance we will probably ever get to meet them." I said, pulling out my best sad face.

I could see that he was thinking about it deeply. He wanted to let us in, but he didn't know if he should.

"Ugh, fine. Line ends after you three. No more people will see NewJeans." He said.

"Thank you so much, sir." Jake said.

"Yeah, yeah..." The security guard responded, before going away.

"Oh my god, Alex...well played. I can't believe he fell for that. You are such a brilliant liar."

"Thanks, ah ah. I can't believe that worked too."

Thankfully for us, the security guard never came back, and three hours later, we were finally inside. It was just a bit over 9:00 PM, and I could finally see the NewJeans members. The lines were settled in a way that every fan had to go in the same order of members: Minji first, then Hyein, Hanni, Haerin, and finally Danielle.

There wasn't that many people inside the shopping center, and the closer we got to the NewJeans girls, the more quiet it got. A lot of the security had also left, to the point that there were only two security guards inside by the time we finally came face to face with Minji.

Our conversation went smoothly. I was beyond happy, and I could tell that Max and Jake were also in dreamland. She signed all of our merch, and we moved on to Hyein. As soon as we had moved on from Minji, I noticed her getting out of her seat, leaving the table. I don't know why that confused me, but I always thought she would wait for the rest of the members so that they could all leave together, but I guess that didn't happen.

Much like our talk with Minji, the meeting with Hyein, Hanni and Haerin went the same way, and just like that, we were the only fans still inside the shopping center, and we were ready to meet the last NewJeans member, Danielle.

"Hey, Dani. The others and I will be waiting in the car. Don't take too long." Haerin said, before leaving the area.

"Sure thing. I only have these three cute boys to take care off, how are you guys?" She asked, almost making me faint on the spot, as I couldn't believe she had just called me cute.

"Oh my god, hi. I love you so much. My name is Alex, and this is Max and this is Jake." I said, introducing us all, unable to hold back my excitement, as I started putting the merch on the table for her to sign, and Max and Jake followed suit.

"So, what brings you guys here?"

"Well, you girls, obviously." Jake responded.

"Are you coming to the concert tomorrow?"

"Yes, we are. We can't wait. It's the first time that we are going to see you girls live." Max said.

"Oh, that's great. We can't wait to have you there."

"How has your day been?" I asked.

For the first time during our conversation, Danielle stopped signing our things, and she looked me right in the eyes, almost in shock.

"Oh my god...you are like, the first person that has asked me that today."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm like, so tired. And I am starving."

"Well, my mom owns a small fast food restaurant just down the road. You could come with us if you want. We are also hungry. We've been sitting in the line since 10:00 AM." I said.

"Jesus, you poor guys. All that effort just to see us. I really appreciate it. I could really use a burger right now, not gonna lie, but I'm an idol. I can't go with you guys, I hope you can understand that."

"Oh, come on, Dani. Of course you can. We can be there in like five minutes. You have to try my moms burgers. She is the best cook ever."

"I would love to go with you guys, but I can't be recognized in public with three fans."

"It's super dark outside and there is probably nobody inside my moms' restaurant right now. Plus, unless you are Blackpink member, nobody is going to recognize you here in America."

"Mmmm, I guess you're right."

"The burgers are on the house by the way, if that helps." I said, making Danielle chuckle, as if she didn't have money to buy the whole goddamn restaurant.

She pondered for quite a long time, as she kept signing away our merch. I was super nervous, and I really wanted her to say yes, just so that I could talk to her some more and look at her beautiful face.

"I might not be an idol, but I know and understand what you go through. Your life might seem perfect on the outside, but I know it isn't. The busy schedules, the paparazzi, the haters, and lord knows what's in your contract that says what you can and can't do. For one night only, try to live a little. Come with us. It's just for food." I said, trying my best to convince her.

Danielle twirled the marker cap between her fingers, before tapping it repeatedly on the table, her gaze shifting between the emptying space around her and the three of us standing by the table. She leaned back slightly, her expression thoughtful, almost calculating.

“When was the last time you really had fun?”

“Goshhhhhh, so long ago, I can’t even remember.” Dani said with an exaggerated groan, her lips pulling into a small, wistful smile.

“It’s been...a lot of work lately.”

Danielle's gaze flicked between the three of us before landing on me. For a moment, I felt completely exposed, like she was peeling back every layer of my personality just by looking. At roughly six feet tall, I’d always thought I had a solid presence—enough to get noticed but never overwhelming. I could only hope my slightly messy hair, a casualty of the long hours in line, didn’t make me look completely ridiculous. Her eyes lingered just a little longer, and I caught myself wondering if she noticed the faint definition in my arms, the product of gym sessions I’d probably exaggerated when talking to my friends.

Jake and Max had their own charm—Jake with his sharp features and easy laugh, and Max with that natural charisma that could win over just about anyone. Together, we must’ve looked harmless enough, just three guys thrilled to be standing in front of someone we admired. The way Danielle’s expression softened, and her shoulders loosened, made me think we’d managed to put her at ease, at least a little.

"See, so come with us. Let loose for a night. You deserve it."

“Do you guys even have a car?” She asked, her tone light but still with a trace of skepticism about the whole thing.

"Yeah, I have. It's right outside. Clean interior too, I promise." I said, which resulted in a long sigh by Danielle followed by a small giggle.

"You won't give up, will you? Fine, I'll go with you guys, but I need to be back at the hotel before midnight, or else I'm going to get in so much trouble with my manager."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it. Yes, deal. Don't worry about it. It won't take long. We can take you there after we eat." I said, feeling absolutely delighted by the fact that she had accepted our offer.

"Alright. Just let me text Haerin real quick to let her know I won't be going with them."

Danielle quickly started tapping away on her phone, while the three of us were waiting patiently for her to finish, so that we could go.

"Okay, done. I'm all yours until midnight. Lead the way, guys."

The three of us lead her outside and into our car. It was already quite dark outside, so luckily Dani wasn't recognized on our way to the car, and after a quick five-minute drive, we arrived at my mom's restaurant. It was very rare for her to have customers this late in the night, and thankfully, we were the only ones there.

"Hi mom. How's it going?"

"The usual at these hours. Nothing to do, just wrapping up to go home. What are you doing here this late at night?"

"Grabbing some food, what do you think?"

"Oh, yeah? What do you want?"

"My favorite, of course."

"What do you guys want?" I asked, turning to the others.

"I'll take a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke." Jake said, after thoroughly scanning the menu above the counter.

"I'll have a chicken sandwich with extra pickles, curly fries, and a Sprite." Max said.

"Good choice, Max." My mom chimed in, scribbling their orders down.

"What do you recommend, Alex? You know this place better than anyone." Danielle asked, her shifting between the menu and me.

"Hmm...it depends on what you’re in the mood for. If you’re starving, the BBQ burger is amazing—tons of flavor, and my mom’s sauce is the best. But if you’re feeling lighter, the grilled chicken salad is pretty popular too."

"You had me at BBQ burger. I like to feel full.” She said with a playful smirk that made my heart skip a beat.

"Great choice." My mom said with a warm smile, jotting it down before glancing back at me.

"Forgive me for asking, but I don't recognize you. Are you his new girlfriend?" My mom added, making my face turn red instantly.

"Wha—no! She’s just a friend! Well, not even—uh—we just met. She’s..."

"No, no! We’re not dating. I've just met him, actually." Danielle responded, as she briefly burst out laughing, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious.

"Alright, alright." My mom said with a knowing smirk, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. I cleared my throat, desperate to change the subject.

"Anyways, let’s grab a booth. Food won’t take long."

We settled into the corner booth, and Danielle sat right next to me, with Max and Jake sitting right in front of us. I was beyond nervous by the fact that the girl of my dreams was literally just centimeters away from me. It was a miracle that my heart hadn't bursted out of my chest yet.

"Your mom seems really nice. This place is cute, too. I can’t wait to try the food." Danielle commented.

"Thank you. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you're here. It's been such an honor to meet you and get the chance to talk to you." I said, feeling a little more at ease now.

The food didn't take long, and once we got it, all four of us started eating like we had never seen food in our lives. We kept on talking between bites, and Danielle was a lot more comfortable around us.

The four of us finished our meals, the conversation flowing easily and punctuated with laughter. Danielle leaned back in her seat with a content sigh.

"This was amazing. Thank you so much for bringing me here." She said, patting her stomach.

"Ah, you’re welcome. I’m just glad you enjoyed it."

"It's getting late. I really need you to take me to my hotel."

"No problem. Let's get going then." I said, thanking my mom for the food.

Danielle, Max and Jake chimed in with their own expressions of gratitude to my mom, who waved us off with a warm smile as we left the restaurant.

The drive to Danielle’s hotel was short but filled with easy chatter, the kind of banter that made it feel like we’d known each other for longer than just an hour or so.

When we pulled up outside the Pendry Chicago hotel, the bustling energy of the city seemed to melt into the quiet hum of the upscale lobby.

Danielle led the way to the elevator, and we followed her to the top floor, where her suite was located. As we stepped out, we spotted her manager standing near her door, his phone in hand. His stressed expression immediately softened with relief when he saw her.

"Danielle! Oh my god, where have you been?! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!"

"I was just walking around the city." She replied casually, brushing off his concern.

"Walking around the city?" He repeated, his tone rising in disbelief.

"You know you can’t do that. It’s not safe, and it’s definitely not allowed!"

"And these three? Who are they?" He asked, glancing warily at me, Max, and Jake.

"Just some guys I met tonight." She said with a nonchalant shrug.

Before he could respond, Danielle turned to her door, pulling out her keycard. She pushed it open and glanced back at us with a raised brow.

"You guys coming in or what?"

My jaw practically hit the floor. Was she serious? I blinked a few times, trying to process what she’d just said. Slowly, I turned to look at Max and Jake, who were standing just behind me on either side. They looked just as shocked as I felt, their expressions almost comical as they pointed at themselves in unison, as if to say, 'Who? Us?'

I opened my mouth to respond, but her manager beat me to it.

"Absolutely not!" He exclaimed, stepping forward.

"You know it’s against the rules in your contract to have anyone in your room, let alone—"

"Let alone three guys I just met?" Danielle cut him off, her tone sharp and defiant.

"I don’t give a fuck about the stupid rules in my contract or what Hybe or Ador think. I’m not a child, and I sure as hell don’t need a babysitter."

"Danielle…" The manager’s voice softened, almost pleading.

"Look..." She interrupted, her voice lowering as she stepped closer to him.

"Keep this between us, and I’ll make sure you’re…rewarded, at another time."

The manager hesitated, clearly conflicted, before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Fine. But this better not come back to haunt me. And your reward better be good, like last time."

"It will not come back to haunt you, don't worry. Also, have you ever been disappointed by my rewards?" Danielle said firmly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

The manager gulped and shook his head. Danielle smirked before she turned back to us and gestured inside.

"Well? Are you guys coming in or not?"

We exchanged uncertain glances, but none of us hesitated for long before slipping past her manager and stepping into her suite.

The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the understated luxury of the space. The room was sleek and modern, yet cozy, with warm wood tones and elegant furnishings that gave it an inviting feel. A plush king-sized bed dominated the left side of the room, its crisp white linens perfectly arranged. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, revealing a stunning view of the Chicago skyline glittering under the night sky.

A stylish seating area featured a curved velvet sofa and a low marble coffee table. On the side, a large desk sat near the window, holding an arrangement of fresh flowers and a leather-bound notepad stamped with the Pendry logo. To the right, I noticed a doorway leading to the marble bathroom, which I could see featured a soaking tub and a walk-in rain shower.

"Wow..." I whispered.

Jake and Max followed closely behind me, each of them equally awestruck.

"This is insane, man..." Jake said.

"It’s just a hotel room. You guys act like you’ve never seen one before." Danielle said, whilst chuckling, clearly amused by our reactions.

"Forgive me for breaking up this little moment, but what are we exactly doing here?" Max asked.

"Well...I like you guys, and I just simply wasn't ready to end the night. Plus, I love making my manager mad."

"So, what do you wanna do?" I asked.

"Hmmmm...I don't know..." She said.

"How about we play truth or dare?" Max asked.

"Or maybe...we could play spin the bottle!" Jake added.

"Why not both? We spin the bottle, and the person who spins it has to ask whoever it lands on either truth or dare."

"Sounds like fun. Count me in." I said.

Danielle stood up with a small, thoughtful smile and walked over to grab a glass bottle of water from the mini fridge.

We all moved to the plush, beige carpet in the center of the suite. Its fluffy texture felt inviting and warm beneath us as we formed a loose circle. Danielle placed the bottle in the middle, and we all exchanged excited but nervous looks before the first spin.

The initial rounds were hesitant, filled with safe, uninspired choices. Everyone seemed cautious, with most opting for truth, while dares remained untouched. Whenever one of us guys spun the bottle, and it landed on another guy, it led to awkward laughter and an immediate "truth" declaration. The room remained lighthearted, but the game had yet to gain momentum. It felt like everyone was testing the waters, unsure of how far to push the boundaries.

That wasn't until Danielle took her turn. Her bottle landed on me, and my heart rate skyrocketed.

"So, what'll it be, Alex? Truth or dare?"

"Let's change it up, for once. Dare."

"Mmmm...I dare you to give me a foot massage all the way until my next turn."

"A foot massage?"

"Yep. My feet are killing me." She replied, lifting her legs and resting her feet in my lap.

Danielle’s feet rested lightly in my lap as I hesitated, trying to figure out how to start. Her socks were pristine white, the kind that looked soft to the touch. My fingers pressed gently into the fabric, testing the waters.

"You know...you can take them off..." Dani casually said.

My hands stilled, and I glanced up, searching her face for any sign that she might be joking. She wasn’t. Her expression was calm but expectant, like she was enjoying my flustered reaction.

“Uh…okay.” I muttered, tugging gently at the hem of one sock. The material slid off smoothly, revealing her bare foot. It was delicate, her toes neatly shaped, her skin soft and slightly pink from being in the sock. I swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the intimacy of the moment.

“Much better.” She said, smiling as she wiggled her cute toes.

The second sock came off just as easily, and with her bare feet resting in my lap, the massage resumed. My thumbs worked into her arch with a bit more confidence, gliding over the smooth skin. Her foot was warm under my touch, and every so often, I caught her shifting slightly, relaxing into the sensation.

"Hmmm...that feels so nice." She said softly, leaning back on her hands with a satisfied sigh.

I tried to focus, but the quiet approval in her tone made it nearly impossible to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. Across from me, Jake and Max were barely containing themselves. Jake raised his eyebrows in disbelief, while Max shot me a thumbs-up, a grin plastered on his face.

I ignored them, focusing instead on Danielle’s feet. The game continued around us, but I barely noticed. Every so often, Danielle let out a contented hum, her feet shifting slightly as I adjusted the pressure.

"Alex? Alex???"

"What?" I asked, snapping out of it.

"Truth or dare?" Max asked. I was ready to just say truth, but he started moving his mouth in an exaggerated manner, almost like he was giving me a signal, and mouthing something along the lines of 'dare'.

"Dare."

"I dare you...to lick one of Danielle's foot."

The moment Max dropped the dare, the whole atmosphere shifted. A stunned silence settled over the group, the playful energy from earlier replaced with a mix of shock and nervous laughter. Jake widened his eyes, leaning back slightly, as if trying to process what he’d just heard. Danielle raised an eyebrow, her expression caught somewhere between amused curiosity and disbelief, her lips curling into a faint, teasing smirk. The tension hung in the air, not heavy or uncomfortable, but charged with the awkward excitement of a challenge that pushed boundaries.

Even though I wasn't that much into feet, given it was Danielle, I obviously wanted to do it, but I didn't know if she wanted it or not, and I wasn't going to risk this nice time we were all having, and potentially ruining a possible friendship with her. That was until of course, she decided to speak up.

"Well?" Danielle's voice cut through the silence, her tone light and teasing.

"Are you going to keep me waiting, or are you going to get started?" She said, tilting her head slightly, her smirk daring me to back down, but I wasn't going to, not now that she had given me the green light.

That being said, I was still a bit nervous, something she picked it up very quickly.

"Don’t worry, Alex. I’m not going to bite." Dani said, as she immediately put her foot on my face and started pinching my nose with her toes, giggling like a little girl, before I swatted it away, with a chuckle.

Her laugh was music to my ears, and it was enough to ease my nerves and give me the confidence boost I needed.

Without wasting another second, I gently grabbed her foot, and brought it up to my face. I gave a quick glance at her beautiful face before shifting my attention to her foot and started licking the sole.

As soon as my tongue hit her skin, Danielle tensed. Her toes curled, and a slight tremor ran through her leg. I paused, worried that she had changed her mind. But then, I caught the edge of her smirk, the slightest hint of pink in her cheeks, and I kept going.

Her foot had a salty, slightly sweet flavor, the taste of sweat mixing with something else, a softness that was undeniably feminine, yet strangely intoxicating. The more I licked, the more I wanted to explore her delicate curves and taste every inch.

My tongue dragged slowly over her heel, her arch, the top of her foot. Every inch of skin tasted clean, her natural scent mixing with a subtle, flowery aroma from her lotion.

She let out a quiet breath, her lips parting slightly as she relaxed. A small smile played on her face, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused, like she was enjoying the sensation.

Once I got to her toes, I dragged my tongue along each one, giving a teasing suck, before I put her big toe in my mouth and began sucking on it.

"Ohhh...fuck..." She whispered. Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back, her lips parting as she let out a breathy moan.

The sound sent a shiver of arousal through me, and I instinctively tugged on her toe, pulling it further into my mouth. Danielle gasped, her body arching, her eyes fluttering open.

"Ah, that tickles..." She said, giggling before pulling her foot away, and putting it on my chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm quite sensitive."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. It's perfectly normal." I said.

Danielle smiled briefly, before putting her foot away, and we resumed the game shortly after. She spun the bottle and it landed on Max.

"Dare."

"Whoa, you didn't even let me ask you, ah ah."

"Okay...hmmm...let me think..."

"How about this...I dare you to take off your shirt."

Danielle’s dare left the room in stunned silence for a moment. Jake and I exchanged wide-eyed glances, trying to process if we had heard her correctly. Max, meanwhile, froze mid-laugh, his bravado faltering for just a second before he quickly composed himself.

"You serious?" He asked, leaning back slightly as if to gauge her intentions. Danielle nodded, an innocent smile on her face that somehow made her dare feel even bolder.

"What? It's not that big of a deal." She said with a playful shrug, her tone light but undeniably teasing.

"Wait, really? Do you really want me to do that?"

"Yes, really. I'm already partially naked, so it's only fair someone else is also a bit naked." She said, wiggling her naked feet and toes around.

"Alright, no problem. I did not see that coming." He muttered under his breath, as he stood up and removed his shirt, revealing his well-built chest and abs, causing her to widen her eyes in surprise.

"Woah...your body is pretty amazing."

"Thanks..." Max said, blushing slightly before sitting back down.

"Alright, my turn now." I said.

I span the bottle and I finally managed to get it to land on Danielle.

"Truth or dare."

"Hmmm...truth." She said, much to my disappointment. I really thought she would've gone with dare at this point of the game, but maybe she just wanted to change it up. I quickly tried to come up with something to ask her.

"Uhmmm, okay...I got one. Have you ever made out with one of your bandmates?" I asked, and I saw Danielle's smile grow bigger and bigger. She didn't even try to hide it.

"I have...I won't lie, I have."

"Do you...care to say which member?"

"You only get one question per turn, Alex."

Unfortunately, I never did get that answer, as for the next few turns, Danielle was getting way too lucky with the spins, with the bottle somehow always avoiding her. That was until Jake spun it, and it landed on Danielle, after what felt like three or four full rotations.

"Truth or dare, Dani?"

"Dare." She said, avoiding truth at all cost, so that she wouldn't have to share who her NewJeans make out buddy was.

"I dare you...to kiss whoever you think the hottest guy in this room is."

At that moment, I thought there was no chance she would go through with it, but when she started scanning the three of us, it looked like she was genuinely thinking about this and going through with it.

Needless to say, I really wanted her to pick me. I was so nervous about the fact that it could happen that I didn't even see her looking at me. Our eyes met, and she quickly nodded two times. I barely had any time to process it before I saw her lean forward on her knees and plant a kiss on my lips.

The kiss was soft and delicate, just like her lips. Her scent enveloped me, and the taste of her sweet lips lingered, leaving me yearning for the moment to continue.

She pulled away before I could kiss her back, leaving me stunned and speechless, a charged silence hanging between us. Her eyes met mine again, and at that moment, I just couldn't resist her any longer.

I instinctively moved my hand to her waist, pulling her closer to me, right before planting my lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair as we lost ourselves in the kiss, our bodies pressed together, a heat building between us.

This felt like it had been building up ever since we met just a few hours ago, and now that it was finally happening, all I wanted was for this moment to last forever.

It didn't though. Danielle pulled away rather quickly, breaking the kiss, but for good reason. She put her hands on my shirt, and began pulling it upwards.

"I think you're wearing way too many clothes, Alex."

As soon as my shirt was off, she kissed me again, but instead of going for it again and resuming our make out session, she stopped, and began crawling towards Jake, who had his jaw on the floor.

"Do y..."

"Shhh, shut up." She said, cutting him off with a kiss, as the two started making out.

Just like she did with me, she only stopped to take off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest, and then went back to making out with him.

I didn't know what was going on in her head, or why she was doing this, but it was pretty clear that she was enjoying herself, and was definitely enjoying the moment.

Their moment didn't last long, as Dani pulled away and shifted to her right, hoping to get to Max, only to find out he had gone behind and around her to join me by my side. She crawled to him, and he dropped down to her height, putting his hand lightly around her neck and making her look right into his eyes, before he started kissing her.

Danielle and Max kept kissing, and unlike with Jake and I, she didn't have to worry about taking off his shirt, as it was already off from earlier. They kept kissing for a while longer, before Max stood up, breaking their kiss.

What Dani did next surprised me even more, but was something that I had no issue with, and neither did Max if I had to take a guess. Danielle put one of her hands on his jeans whilst she put the other one on mine, and started rubbing both of our crotches at the same time.

"All of you are wearing way too many clothes."

"Wanna do something about it?" Jake asked.

I could see Danielle's smirk creep up again, and before I knew it, she had taken her hand off my crotch and put it on his. I had Danielle right in front of me, on her knees looking up at me as her hands kept rubbing Max's and Jake's bulges through their pants.

"I would love to do something about it."

Before anyone could respond, Danielle leaned in and put her face right in front of my bulge. She started rubbing her nose and lips all over it, and it took me a few moments to realize what she was trying to do.

At first, I thought she was only trying to tease me, but all of a sudden I saw her with my zipper between her teeth, and felt my pants slide down, at the exact same time she pulled Jake and Max's jeans down with her hands.

"Ah...much better." She said, another smile forming on her face.

"Dani, this is crazy!" Jake said.

"Shhh...just keep this between us."

"You don't have to worry." I said.

"Hmmm, good, because I really need this."

"I really need all of your cocks." She added, and just like she did with my zipper, she somehow managed to put the elastic band of my underwear between her teeth and pull it down, revealing my throbbing cock that hit her right on her chin.

"Oh, wow..." She said, her eyes widening in awe.

"Clean shaven, just how I like em'."

The sight of seeing my cock right next to Danielle's perfect face was one that was burned into my brain forever. Her lips were so close to my tip, and I could sense how badly she wanted it.

Jake and Max broke my little moment with her moans and I took a quick glance to realize Danielle already had her hands wrapped around their cocks, jerking them off.

"You have no idea how badly I need you guys."

Seeing them getting pleasured by her made me want the exact same thing, and she knew that.

With her eyes locked on mine, Danielle leaned in and started planting a few kisses on the tip of my cock, sending chills throughout my body. Her lips felt so soft, and the wet sensation from her tongue felt incredible.

"Mmm, fuck, Dani..." I moaned.

"Does that feel good?" She asked, smiling and pulling away briefly.

"So good..."

She leaned in again to get closer to my cock, but this time, I decided to play hard to get, and move my cock away, and put it against her face.

"Nooooooo...please, don't do that." She said, pouting and giving me puppy dog eyes, as if I had taken away her favourite toy.

"Do what?" I asked, to which it earned a roll of the eyes from her.

"Tell me what you want, Dani."

"I wanna suck your dick."

"Is that really what you want?"

"Yes. It's so big, and it looks so tasty and delicious."

"I just want it buried down my throat, please." She added, opening her mouth wide and sticking out her tongue. I couldn't resist her any longer, even if I wanted.

I grabbed hold of my dick and guided it straight into her mouth, letting her warm breath and tongue engulf my tip. I had dreamt of this moment more times than I could remember, but none of my dreams could live up to the reality of having Danielle's lips around my cock.

Deep down, I really wanted to grab her head and push her further down my cock, but I decided against it. I was more than happy to let her go at her own slow pace, and enjoy the feeling of having her suck the tip of my dick.

Danielle kept on bobbing her head back and forth, swirling her tongue around my cock, her lips wrapped tightly around it. I was in disbelief on how she managed to look so beautiful with my dick in her mouth.

"I honestly don't know how do you manage to look like an angel whilst pleasuring all of our cocks at once."

"That's because I am an angel, but I can switch it up if you guys want. I can be your naughty little cumslut for the night."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Do you guys want that?"

"Absolutely. Get over here." Max said, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her over to him, guiding his cock inside her mouth.

He didn't force her to take his cock down her throat like I thought he was going to, instead just letting Dani suck his dick however she pleased. Danielle however was the one that surprised me, by rapidly sucking his cock from the very moment she had Max's dick in her mouth.

I didn't know how she managed to go from cute and innocent whilst pleasuring us to a total slut in just a matter of seconds, but I wasn't going to complain, not even for a second.

"Fuck, Dani, you are insane..." He moaned, bringing a smile to her face as she continued to pleasure him, all whilst stroking Jake and I at the same time.

When Danielle finally let Max's hard cock flop out of her mouth, and moved over to Jake to take him in into her warm throat, she replaced the left hand she had on my shaft with her right. When she reached out for Max's cock with her left hand and began stroking us off whilst rapidly sucking Jake, I knew this was far from the first time she's handled multiple dicks at once.

The three of us had shared quite a fair share of women between us over the years, and even though none of them were a celebrity like Danielle, we could still spot an experienced woman when we saw one. The way she never let us go unattended, and the way her hand and mouth switched between the three of us, proved that this wasn't her first rodeo.

"You seem to know what you're doing." Jake said, letting out a deep moan as she went all the way down on him.

"It's not the first time I've had three dicks around me."

"Oh, really? Do tell."

"Maybe later. I'm quite busy right now." She said, putting her lips around my shaft and starting to suck me off again.

Her sucking was more aggressive and rougher than last time, almost as if she wanted my cock to be dripping with saliva. Every single one of her slurps were loud and lewd, and it was clear that she wanted all of us to hear them.

"Fuckkk, all of your cocks taste so fucking good."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmh mmmh...I could suck your big cocks all night long."

It was clear to me that she wanted nothing more than to be passed around the three of us, and to be used for our pleasure, so I decided to use that to our advantage.

"I bet you could. Do you want us to take turns with you?"

"Mmh mmmh..." She moaned, nodding as she kept sucking my cock.

"I want to get fucked by all of you...I want you guys to use me like a fuckdoll."

"I wanna deepthroat that big dick of yours...make it nice and wet, then have you shove it down my tight little pussy."

"Then have you rail me, and make me scream as I take all of your huge cock deep inside me."

"I just want all of you to make me your little cumslut."

"Is that really what you want?"

"It's what I need."

"Prove it, Dani." I said, knowing full well that she was going to take that challenge.

She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, inviting me in, and I wasted no time pushing myself inside her. Danielle relaxed her throat and took every inch of me in, deepthroating my whole length until her lips meeting my pelvis, and her nose buried in my groin.

"Fuckkk, Dani...you're so fucking hot with my cock shoved down your throat.

"Mmmhh."

Danielle moaned around my cock, and looked up at me, her eyes watering slightly, but not even a hint of pain on her face. Her tongue ran along the bottom of my shaft, massaging it, and she kept bobbing her head back and forth, gagging a few times but never stopping.

Danielle was an absolute menace, and she was driving me wild. She put her hands around my legs and started pushing her head further down my cock, essentially impaling herself on it.

She held it there, my cock buried deep down her throat, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then, her grip on my legs tightened, and she pulled back, slowly, her eyes widening, gasping for air.

"Fuck...so good. I love sucking big cocks like yours so much." She said, before she took a quick breath and went straight back down, her head bobbing faster and faster.

Her lips were wrapped tight around me, her tongue swirling and dancing along my length. It was clear she was trying to drain my balls and milk me for all I had, and I had no issue with it.

"I love how thick and hard your cock feels in my mouth."

Danielle might've been the one that was doing all the work, but it was me who was exhausted, and I could barely catch my breath. Never in a million year I thought I would ever be in this position, with Dani on her knees in front of me, my hard cock in her hand.

I could only stand there and moan her name, as she ran her tongue along the underside of my shaft, before popping my balls into her mouth, her tongue flicking over them as her hand ran up and down my dick.

"Ah...fuckkk, Dani..."

"You like that, baby?"

"Yes, it feels incredible."

"Good. I wanna make you feel so good." She said, resuming her blowjob with added intensity.

Danielle rapidly started sucking and stroking my cock at the same time, slurping all over it, her lips making lewd and sloppy noises. I was mesmerized by her, and the way her eyes rolled back every time her head bobbed forward.

The only thing better than her hands and lips on my dick was the fact that I was about to feel the tightest and wettest hole imaginable. My cock was throbbing in her mouth at the thought of getting to fuck her, and it was begging for release.

I tapped the back of her head to let her know I was about to blow, but, quite predictably, she didn't slow down, and instead she just bobbed her head even faster along my length for several seconds before deepthroating my cock in one swift motion, sending me to a point of no return.

"Fuck, Dani! I'm gonna fucking cum." I said as I held her head in place, making her gag on my cock, before my hips bucked forward as my orgasm hit me, and I started spurting hot ropes of cum to the back of her throat.

"Oh, fuck yes! Take all of my cum, Dani..."

Danielle gagged and choked as she took each and every shot down her throat, swallowing all of my load without wasting a single drop, and not stopping even when I let go of her.

I was still cumming when she pulled off, and some of my cum coated her lips and her chin, covering her in a thick layer of my seed.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I really wanted to taste your cum." She said, licking the cum off her lips and wiping her chin, before cleaning off her fingers and her palms, leaving no trace of my seed behind.

"Damn, you are such a slut, Dani." Max chimed in, for the greater good, as I really needed to catch my breath after my orgasm.

"Only when I want to..." She responded, grabbing hold of his cock and kissing his tip.

"Danielle, girl...before you have fun with Max and Jake...how about we get you naked." I said, struggling to get my words out.

"Oh my god, of course. I'm sorry. I was just so focused sucking your big cocks that I completely forgot that I still have my clothes on."

"It's alright. Come here."

Danielle quickly rose to her feet and I pulled her towards me, planting my lips on hers. We kissed for a couple of seconds before I spun her around. With her back against my chest, I started kissing her neck as I put hands on her shirt, and started pulling it up, revealing her sexy and perfect body, my hands immediately going to her chest and grabbing her tits.

Her breasts weren't big, but they were perfectly perky and had a nice round shape to them, with two adorable and cute little nipples on top.

I saw Max and Jake step closer and I knew what they wanted, so I started roaming my hands down her body as I lowered myself behind her. Danielle started moaning, and even though I couldn't see it, I knew they were having fun playing with her perky tits.

"Mmmm, fuck, yesss. Play with them...they're all yours."

I put my hands on her jeans and slid them down her legs, taking her panties off as I did so. Danielle was finally fully naked and ready to be used as she so badly desired.

I had the perfect view of her ass and pussy, the latter looking absolutely soaked. Her pussy was clean-shaven, not a hair in sight and her slit was glistening, her folds looking so smooth and soft.

Her cunt looked so inviting and I couldn't resist any longer. I moved a finger to her lips, running it up and down her slit, feeling how wet she was, her folds sticky and slippery at the same time.

"Mmmm, ohhh, Alex."

"You're already so fucking wet. Do you like sucking cock that much, Dani?"

"I do...I love it. Sucking cock gets me so horny, fuckkk." She moaned, when I inserted one of my fingers into her tight little hole.

"Yeah...I can see that. Do you want one in your pussy, baby?"

"Oh, fuck yes. I want you inside me."

"What about us, Dani? Do you want us inside you too?" Jake asked.

"God yes, I want you guys to use me."

"Do you think you can take all of us?" Max asked.

"Oh, I definitely can. All of your cocks are so big and thick and I can't wait to feel them inside me, but first, I want you two to take turns fucking my face and making me gag on your huge dicks whilst Alex rails me from behind." She said, whilst keeping a firm grip on their cocks.

"Is that really want you want, Dani?"

"Yes, please. I can't wait to get your big cock inside my pussy."

"Neither can I."

"Mmm, good, because I've been craving to be pounded by it."

"How do you want me?"

"On all fours, Dani." I said.

Danielle hastily got on the bed, assuming the position, and arched her back, her cute ass up in the air. I followed suit and positioned myself behind her, grabbing hold of her hips as I pushed the tip of my cock between her folds, sliding it up and down her slit, teasing her, but she was having none of it.

"Please, don't fucking tease me. I need you to fuck me right now. I can't wait any longer, Alex."

"Just stick that big fat cock of yours in me, fuck my brains out and ruin my pussy."

As much as I wanted to keep teasing her, I didn't want to get on her bad side, so I simply complied and pushed my dick past her folds and deep inside her pussy, making her squeal.

"Fuckkkk...god, you're so big and thick...this is just what I needed."

Her pussy was tight, but at the same time felt so wet and soft, and I could feel it squeezing my shaft as I slowly slid inside her.

"Ahhh, fuck, I could just stay like this forever. Your cock feels so good in me."

Her moans were music to my ears, but as much as I would've liked to savor the moment, I was desperate to fuck her brains out, so I pulled back, and slowly thrust into her again, letting her get used to my length and girth.

I could feel her juices run down my shaft and drip down her legs as I started picking up the pace, pounding her harder and faster with each passing second. Her tight little pussy felt amazing around my dick and it was impossible to not go fast and rough.

"Oh yesss...give it to me, Alex. Faster."

"And you two...come here and shove those cocks down my throat."

Max and Jake stood and watched our little show for a while before they decided to get in on the fun. They crawled on the bed, positioning themselves in front of Danielle.

Unsurprisingly for me, Max was the first one to take action, grabbing hold of her head and guiding his cock towards her open mouth. Danielle gladly took him, engulfing his cock completely and he didn't waste one second before he started face fucking her, using Dani for his pleasure.

"Take this cock, you fucking slut." He said, hammering away at her throat.

Danielle was moaning and whimpering around his cock, whilst her hands were busy playing with Jake's shaft, jerking him off.

It didn't take long before Jake got his opportunity to get a taste of her lips as Max pulled out, and Jake's dick entered her mouth, filling her up completely. Jake grabbed a fistful of her hair and held her head in place, as he started thrusting his hips back and forth, making her gag a few times.

"Holy shit, Dani, your throat is fucking amazing." He groaned, holding her head and pushing her further down his shaft, his cock disappearing down her throat, leaving her no room to breathe.

Danielle was a moaning mess, and the only thing she could do was take him deeper, her throat bulging and her eyes watering.

Soon enough, they started taking turns with Danielle's mouth, making her deepthroat their dicks for a couple of thrusts before passing her to the other.

Watching them both use her like a fuckdoll only added fuel to the fire, and the more she moaned and squealed, the rougher I fucked her.

I was balls deep inside her, her walls squeezing me with each one of my thrusts, and she was getting wetter by the second. My hands were moving up and down her back and her ass, and the sound of our skin slapping against each other was echoing through the room, mixing in with her muffled moans and their groans.

I couldn't stop myself from spanking her and slapping her ass, watching it jiggle every time my hand came in contact with her cheeks.

"God, you look so fucking hot getting railed from behind, Dani." Max said.

"Mmmmh. Alex...he's fucking me so good, goshhh."

"Yeah? Are you enjoying having our cocks shoved down your throat and pussy?"

"I am. I'm such a fucking slut for big dicks."

"Do you think you could handle both of our cocks in your tight little holes?" Jake asked.

"I would love nothing more than to have these two huge cocks inside my ass and my pussy." Danielle said, as she grabbed their shafts and pressed them together, before taking them both into her mouth, making her lips and jaw stretch wide.

Danielle's foul language made her even sexier and it was getting increasingly difficult to not just pound her and bust a nut. She was so tight and warm and wet and the way her pussy swallowed every inch of my dick, clenching and gripping it, was driving me crazy.

I knew that I had to slow down or else I was going to finish much earlier than I wanted, so I pulled out of Dani's tight cunt. I looked at her freshly fucked pussy and admired the sight in front of me. Her entrance was glistening and I could see a mixture of her juices and my pre-cum dripping out of her.

I couldn't help but reach out and rub her slit for a couple of seconds, before I dove in and started eating her out. Her cunt was even sweeter than her lips, and the taste was intoxicating.

My tongue explored her folds, flicking over her clit, making her hips buck and her ass push back against me. I could her moaning, but her voice was muffled. I could feel her getting wetter and wetter, and she tasted better than any other woman I had ever been with.

"Hey, Alex...could you give us a go? I'm dying to fuck her." Max said.

I knew how badly he and Jake wanted to have a go with her, but I wasn't ready to let go of her so soon.

"Just let me fuck her a little bit longer. She'll be yours in no time." I said, hurrying up to get my dick inside her.

Danielle was still devouring Jake and Max's cocks, making sure they were nice and wet for both of her holes when I slid myself into her again. I was determined to fuck her rough, and give her the pounding she wanted, and was no doubt begging for. I put my hands on her hips and started slamming into her, fucking her like as hard as I could, my hips slapping her ass.

Each thrust was fueling my lust for her, so I grabbed her hair with my right hand and pulled her off their cocks, pulling her towards my body and wrapping my left arm around her as I fucked her senseless, pounding her with deep and rapid thrusts, her perky tits bouncing wildly.

"Oh, fuck me, Alex. Yes, just like that. Do me hard, baby."

"You like getting fucked hard, don't you, Dani?" I asked, my arms now scattered around her perfect body, one playing with her tits and the other rubbing her clit.

Danielle was too lost in her ecstasy to answer and it wasn't long before she let out a scream, her pussy squirting on my shaft and coating it with her juices, before I let go of her, and she fell on the bed, right next to Jake and Max, who were stroking their hard cocks.

"Ahhh, fuck, oh goshhh." She moaned, her eyes rolling back, her orgasm sending waves of pleasure throughout her body.

"I.....I can't believe you just made me cum."

"I never cum with just one cock inside me." She added, making me smirk.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked, with a concerned look on his face.

"I...I couldn't possibly be better."

"She's all yours, guys." I said, making my way towards them so they could have a go at her.

"So.....which one of you guys is going to take my tiny little asshole?"

I didn't need a crystal ball to know the answer to Danielle's question, and the look on Max's face confirmed my suspicions. Danielle took a step to the side, allowing Jake to lay down on the bed.

"Come here, Dani." He said, beckoning her towards him.

Danielle slowly walked towards him and sat down on top of him, her pussy rubbing up and down his length.

"Oh, god. Fuck, your cock feels so good between my pussy lips."

"Mmmmh. It's about to feel even better."

Danielle rose to her knees, and took a hold of Jake's dick. She placed it at her entrance and slowly lowered herself, her pussy swallowing every inch of him.

"Ahhhh, fuck." She moaned, putting her hands on his chest, steadying herself as she looked into his eyes.

Max, meanwhile, positioned himself behind her, and began running his cock up and down her ass crack, his fingers caressing her soft and smooth cheeks.

"Are you ready, Dani?"

"Yes. Put it in and stretch me out."

I simply stood there in front of her, slowly stroking myself off whilst looking at her face, waiting for the moment her jaw would drop, and her mouth would open, and luckily, it didn't take long for that moment to arrive.

Danielle's mouth hung open, her eyes widening, as Max started pushing his cock past her tight little ring, sliding his dick inside her ass.

"Holy fuck...you're stretching me out so good. God, you're both so big."

"Yeah? Do you like the feeling of both of our cocks inside you, Dani?"

"Fuck, yes, I love it. I want you guys to make a slut out of me."

"Good, because we're just getting started." Max said, spanking her ass.

"Are you enjoying the show?" She suddenly asked, turning her attention to me, before licking her lips.

"I am." I replied, taking a step forward.

"Why don't you come a little closer so I can give you a kiss, Alex."

Without hesitation, I took a step forward and leaned in to kiss her, but she swatted my head away and shook her head.

"No, idiot...ah ah. Not that kind of kiss. I want your cock in my mouth, baby."

I honestly couldn't believe that a guy like me didn't catch on to that, but I quickly shook those thoughts away and put my dick right in her face. I slapped her face and her tongue with my hard cock before letting Danielle plant kisses all over my shaft, but mainly focusing on the tip of my cock.

I was so lost in the moment, that I hadn't realized that Max and Jake began thrusting in and out of her, their cocks moving in sync. Danielle's mouth was hanging open and I wasted no time putting my dick between her lips, filling her up completely.

Her eyes rolled back and I could tell that she was having a blast, and she wasn't the only one. I could hear the boys moan and groan and it was clear they were getting the same level of pleasure she was.

"You like having a cock in each hole, don't you, baby?" Max asked to no response, as I found out that Danielle would rather be airtight and keep bobbing her head up and down, taking me as deep as possible instead of replying.

The view of her head moving up and down my cock, her lips tightly wrapped around my dick and sliding down my shaft whilst both her holes were being penetrated and filled up with cock was mind-blowing and I knew it was going to send me over the edge sooner rather than later, so I momentarily stopped her, and pulled out of her mouth, not wanting to cum so soon.

"Fuck, why did you pull out? Put that cock back in my mouth, I wanna keep sucking it."

"I don't wanna cum so soon, and I really want to cover your face."

"Don't you dare cum on her face when I'm under her, mate. I don't wanna be in the line of fire when that happens." Jake replied, making Dani and I burst out laughing.

"Well, I guess I have to make you guys cum first, then."

I honestly thought things couldn't get any hotter, but when Danielle started bouncing on their dicks and riding them, they did. There was just something about seeing my two best friends fucking the shit out of my favourite K-pop idol in the world, and it turned me on more than I had ever imagined.

I could see their shafts moving in and out of her and their balls were slapping against her ass with each of their thrusts, as they started fucking her more rapidly.

"Such a good naughty little slut for us, aren't you, Dani?" Max asked, pushing his cock deeper inside her asshole.

"Fuck, yes... I love taking these big cocks. Fuck me harder and fill me up with your cum."

The boys picked up the pace and Danielle's eyes rolled back, her mouth open and her tongue out, her tits bouncing wildly. The way her moans were mixing in with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other was one of the most erotic things I'd ever heard.

"God, I wish you guys could fuck me all night long." She moaned, as her hands wandered around Jake's chest, her nails leaving trails on his skin.

"Are they fucking you good, Dani?"

"So good, Alex. Their big cocks are stretching me out so much."

"Sounds like you are satisfied, then. No need for me to join in."

"No please. I need your cock in my mouth once again."

"Do you, now?"

"I do. I love the taste of it."

"How can I say no to that?"

"You can't. So hurry up and fuck my face." She replied, biting her lip.

With no intention of keeping her waiting, I put my hand on her throat and started kissing her for a couple of seconds, and unsurprisingly, her right hand went straight towards my hard cock, gripping it firmly and stroking it as we kissed.

When I let go of my chokehold, Danielle wasted no time wrapping her soft lips around my dick. I knew she wanted me to fuck her face, so I was caught off guard when she took my whole length down her throat over and over again, basically impaling herself on my cock.

I could see her saliva drip down her chin, as her eyes were glued on mine, and the fact that she didn't stop deepthroating me, made it clear that she wanted to be treated like a slut, so I put both of my hands on the sides of her head and held her in place, before I started giving her the facefucking that she so desperately craved.

The three of us were working in sync, thrusting in and out of her, and it didn't take long for things to pick up speed. We were all so lost in our own little world that we didn't realize just how fast we were going, and it was only when my cock started hitting the back of her throat and she started gagging and choking, that I realized the extent of our speed.

I could hear Jake and Max moan, and I knew they were close, so I decided to pull out of Danielle's mouth and let her breathe.

"Fuck, you guys are going so hard. You're fucking me so good." She said, panting, her breasts rising up and down as she did so.

"You're taking these cocks so well, Dani." Max groaned, his voice laced with lust as he kept ponding her asshole with reckless abandon.

"Mmmh mmmh...use me like the slut I am."

"I want to be your little cum dumpster."

"I want you guys to fill me up with your thick, hot cum."

Danielle's naughty talk was on point, and seeing how much her body was moving every time the boys slammed into her, made me think that they must've been close to their own orgasms.

"Oh fuck, I'm so close, guys. I'm gonna fill her up." Max moaned.

"Do it. Shoot those loads deep inside me."

Danielle didn't have to wait much longer, before Max and Jake started painting her insides with multiple shots of cum, both groaning loudly, their cocks throbbing inside her as they emptied their balls.

"That's it, Dani...take this cum like a good slut." Max said, shooting the last few ropes inside her asshole.

"Damn, I can't believe I just came inside you..." Jake commented, looking into her eyes as she leaned in and kissed him.

"You did such a good job fucking my tight little pussy and filling it up. Thank you."

With Jake's and Max's loads having been taken care of, Danielle got off of them, their dicks flopping out of her holes, and their cum slowly dripping down her thighs.

"Now, it's your turn, Alex." She said, looking straight at me as she dropped to her knees on the carpet, and beckoned me towards her, her tongue hanging out and her hands cupping her tits.

"I wanna suck your big cock and make you cum all over my face."

I didn't need to be told twice, so I quickly walked towards her and pushed my cock into her mouth, her lips immediately wrapping around my shaft and sucking me off, her tongue flicking over the tip.

I had experienced many amazing sensations throughout my life, but nothing would ever top seeing Danielle with my cock in her mouth. She was desperate to make me cum, and began rapidly slurping on my dick, her spit dribbling down her chin and coating my shaft.

"God...I love sucking cock so much."

"I've been such a naughty girl tonight. Punish me, Alex."

"Fuck my face like you mean it."

Her filthy words and her actions were driving me wild, and I could feel my balls tightening. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and started pounding away, giving her what she wanted. I was fucking her mouth like an animal, her moans mixing in with the sloppy sound of her lips sliding down my shaft, and it wasn't long before I was on the verge of my orgasm.

I kept my cock lodged down her throat for a couple more seconds, before pulling out, stroking myself furiously and shooting thick ropes of cum all over her beautiful face, coating a vast majority of her cheeks and eyes with my seed, with some of it even landing on her forehead and hair.

"Mmmmh, yes, give me every last drop, Alex."

"Keep painting my face with your warm cum."

"Fuckkkk..." I groaned, emptying the last few drops onto her nose and lips.

"God, look at all that cum." Jake commented, looking at the mess I made.

"You look so fucking hot right now, Dani." Max added, looking at her with his mouth wide open.

"I do? Maybe I should take a picture?"

"Maybe you should." I said, jokingly.

However, I should've known that a slut like Danielle would've taken it literally. She quickly grabbed her phone and snatched a pic of her cum covered face.

"Now I have something to look at whilst I rub one out when I'm all alone at night, with no cock to suck on or play with."

As soon as she was done with the picture, Danielle began licking her lips, collecting my cum before swallowing it. Dani then scooped the rest of my cum on her face with her fingers, and licked and sucked them clean, as if she had just finished her favourite dish.

"Look at all that cum you gave me. It tastes so good."

"You are so fucking naughty, Dani."

"You don't even know the half of it." She replied, smiling as she sat down on the carpet, her back against the footboard of the bed.

We all sat down there, alongside Danielle. All of us were exhausted and trying to catch our breaths.

"I don't know about you guys, but I really need a shower. Can I use yours, Dani?"

"Of course. You can all take a shower before you leave, if you want."

"I'm going to the bathroom." Jake said, before stepping away, leaving me and Danielle completely alone, in silence. She rested her on my shoulder, and I rested mine on hers.

"Thank you so much for an incredible night." Danielle said, breaking the silence.

"Please, if anyone needs to thank someone, it's us." I said, just before I noticed a droplet of cum fall from her hair onto her knee.

"Damn, you guys really made a mess out of me, didn't you?"

"We sure did." I replied.

"You know...this doesn't need to be the last time." She said, leaving me a bit puzzled.

"I know you guys will go to the concert tomorrow, but how about you spend some time with me backstage before the concert?"

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. I would love nothing more than to go out there and perform alongside my friends, in front of thousands of people, with your load inside me."

"Don't you want that? Don't you want to see me perform, knowing your load is dripping down my thighs on stage?"

"I do. Fuck, I would love that. You're so naughty." I said, pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

For the next thirty minutes, we just stayed next to each other and waited until Max and Jake had taken their separate showers.

They waited for me, but I told them to go home without me, and they left the hotel room. After a while, I left Danielle behind and went to the shower, however she didn't want to wait until I was done, so she joined me, and we ended up having some more fun.

After a very extensive shower, I said my goodbyes to Dani, and headed home, where I immediately went to sleep, the memories of what happened during the night playing on repeat inside my mind, and I couldn't wait to relive it again, in a few hours, at the NewJeans concert.

#danielle smut #newjeans smut #danielle #danielle marsh #newjeans #njz #njz danielle #kpop #kpop smut

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joecoolburrow · 10 days ago

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Protection ~Joe Burrow x Reader

summary — Joe gets protected of you when you have to walk past paparazzi

The white flash temporarily blinded you. Even through a small crack, the cameras were ready to pounce. Joe slammed the door shut. Blinking a few times, your vision readjusted to Joe and the room around you.

“Shit, they’re out here too.” Joe sighed.

Paparazzi, Joe’s least favorite aspects of being a star quarterback. He hoped to avoid them by leaving out the back, but when you're at the biggest pre-Super Bowl party in the city it was probably unrealistic to hope.

It was fun, but you and Joe were leaving early. He’d had a long day doing press and you both preferred pizza and movie in bed over a party. Other NFL stars (current and former), musicians, models, and their plus ones could be heard partying on in the distance.

Joe gripped your arm tightly and positioned himself in front of you.

“Stay close to me, ok?”

You nodded.

Seeing Joe's usual calm demeanor laced with anxiety made you nervous. In the year you and Joe had been together, you'd never encountered paparazzi before. Not-so-subtle bystanders trying to snap a quick, unnoticeable pic was a daily occurrence. But these professional voyeurs were a new ballgame.

Joe slowing opened the door, shielding you between it and his body. Immediately, you were bombarded with camera flashes and clicks. An echo of yells rang in your ear as the over stimulation set in.

You tried to focus on just Joe’s grip on you. He stood between you and the paparazzi like a human shield, his hold of you never wavering. Soon, you'd made it across the sidewalk and started to get into the waiting car.

"HEY!" Joe yelled, starling you.

His rage filled eyes were staring at a pap who was kneeling, camera pointed up towards you.

"STAND UP!" Joe demanded.

He lightly pulled you back so you couldn't lift your leg and inadvertently give this creep what he was looking for.

When the pap didn't move, Joe repeated "STAND THE FUCK UP! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Your heart pounded rapidly. You were afraid Joe and this pap might get into a physical fight. Of course, it wouldn't be much of a fight since Joe could easily take the overweight middle-aged man. But you dreaded the scene it would cause.

Security from the party (who you hadn't even noticed was present since Joe was guarding you so well) rushed over. They pulled the pap up and moved him away. His colleagues catching the whole incident with a million cameras snaps.

Joe ushered you into the car. He climbed in after and slammed the door. For a moment, you both sat in quiet solace of the car.

Peering over at Joe, you saw anguish on his face. You thought you could ease his tension with humor.

"I see why Britney chased those guys with an umbrella."

It worked. A smile crept onto Joe's face and he exhaled a little more forcefully. Then he looked at you apologetically.

"They're vultures. This is why I hate going out. I'm sorry you have to deal with it." Joe sighed.

"I'm fine." You assured him, rubbing his shoulder.

"Don't lie just to make me feel better."

Joe always saw through you.

With a frown, you admitted, "I'm a little shaken up. All the lights and yelling, it was sensory overload. I couldn't see where we were walking and I didn't even notice that guy trying to get an up skirt shot."

"I wanted to kick his fucking teeth in."

You laughed but knew Joe was serious.

"Thank you for looking out for me."

Joe pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Always, babe."

The car pulled away and you leaned your head onto Joe's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, his hand resting on your hip.

"I'm really sorry." He whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

Logically, it was true, but it didn't fix the guilt you could feel Joe carrying. You took his hand.

"Joe, you are the most incredible person I've ever met. I love you. Nothing is going to ruin being with the man of my dreams, not even those creeps."

You took his hand and Joe gave you a little squeeze.

"You're worth it." You said firmly.

You pulled him down for a kiss, tender and comforting. Your lips lingered against one another's. When your eyes fluttered opened you were met with Joe's blue eyes making you a silent declaration of love.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your heels and Joe threw his jacket on the couch.

"I actually had a great time tonight." You told him.

"Me too." He smirked, "but I think the two of us can have an even better time alone."

You knew that was true.

"We can, if only this dress wasn't in our way." You pouted.

Joe pulled you flush against him.

"Don't worry, baby. I won't let anything get in our way."

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #nfl fan fic #My fic #Joe burrow imagines

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smutoperator · 3 months ago

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Lost in Bermuda Triangle

Kwon Yuri, Im YoonA, Seo Joohyun (Seohyun) x Male Reader

Part of Legends series

Tags: (a little) acrobatics, anal, breeding noonas, (a little) food play, foursome, full nelson, honeymoon, hotwife, mating press, mommies, multiple creampies, pearly gates, poolside sex, stacking, titfucking, vacation, visual line.

Word count: 6155

You had just managed to save some money for your first vacation. You decided to start rather slow, taking a typical cheap vacation to Jeju. One day, as you were eating at a cafe, you met a much older woman; she was about to turn 35, and you were in your early 20s.

"Hi, my name is Yuri," she told you. "Hi," you said to her. You two started chatting, and quickly that turned into a date. Yuri took you to her apartment, where you too had an amazing night in bed. She truly felt reinvigorated, finding the young guy she was searching for for years. A few more days passed, and you two kept the routine until Yuri made a proposal.

"I think we should marry in secret," Yuri said. You were unsure about doing that in such a short span of time, but if this was the way you would get to keep your amazing in bed and hot noona alongside you, so be it. "I'm gonna invite a couple of friends to our wedding to be our bridesmaids; is that fine to you?" she asked. "Of course," you answered.

You and Yuri married each other under the watch of her friends YoonA and Seohyun. "We'll have the honeymoon at this address; come meet us there," Yuri said. You were surprised she said "us" instead of "me"; maybe it was a mistake. Who knows?

You arrived at the big house Yuri instructed you to. As you climbed upstairs, the first woman you saw wasn't your wife, but rather one of her best friends, who was completely naked.

"Hello," Seohyun greeted you, who was in shock looking at her tall body and her big tits. But you decided to be gentle and kiss her anyway. "Your wife brought us here. She's across the hall in her bedroom. You know, you're a lucky guy, about to get three girls for the price of one," Seohyun said.

As Seohyun gave you the green light, you started sucking her big tits already, making her moan sexily. "There is more waiting for you, baby; follow me," she said. You entered a room where Seohyun guided you, but your wife wasn't the one in there, but another one of her beautiful best friends, this time YoonA, lying completely naked on the couch.

Seohyun and YoonA shared kisses with each other as you admired their beautiful bodies from afar while they made out with each other. Both girls were already going wild, performing a 69 with each other, Seohyun on top, YoonA at the bottom. As both girls licked each other's pussies, you started to get hard too, and your honeymoon was just starting.

"Can you girls bring me to my wife?" you interrupted them. "Sure, baby," Seohyun answered as she and Yoona guided you to another room. Yuri was finally there, completely upside down as she performed a pole dancing routine while you shared kisses with YoonA and Seohyun. "Look at your beautiful wife; I think she's very eager to suck your cock," Seohyun said.

Yuri danced in front of you as you focused your attention on her. "Let's go, baby, shove that big cock in my mouth in front of my friends, show them why I chose you," Yuri said.

You had no choice but to unzip your pants and shove your cock in your wife's mouth. Yuri, despite being upside down, quickly took it all the way deep with ease, making you groan. "Oh fuck," you said as Yuri planted her hands on the floor and bobbed her head on it. You pushed your shaft against her face for a bit before bringing her down and spanking her tanned ass. Yuri crawled into the bed and kissed her best friends as you admired your wife's sexy body.

"So, hubby, who's going first?" Yuri asked you, who focused your attention on Seohyun and her big tits, sucking them like a baby. Yuri and YoonA quickly followed suit as you three teamed up on the maknae's boobs, Yuri also playing with Seohyun's pussy, rubbing her hands around her friend's clit.

"Take that cock," Seohyun said as YoonA pushed herself forward to bob her head on your shaft while you and Yuri stayed focused on sucking Seohyun's tits. Yuri soon slid under your body, heating up and licking your balls while Seohyun motorboated her tits in your face and Yoona kept sucking your shaft. "Your husband got such a nice cock," YoonA said.

You lay on the bed as all three girls fought for your cock, Seohyun on the left, YoonA in the center like always, and Yuri on the right. Your wife fed your pole straight into Seohyun's sexy mouth before taking her turn choking on it. Seohyun and YoonA now tongued your balls. "It tastes so good," Yuri said, handing it back to her friends. Seohyun got more aggressive this time, going for a fast and sloppy blowjob. "Baby is so lucky, having all those hot noonas fight like crazy for your big cock, aren't you? Look how naughty they are sucking your dick; doesn't it look so good?" Yuri asked.

"My pussy is getting so wet watching my friends suck your big cock, hubby; they are so hot and nasty." Yuri said before getting into a sloppy blowjob of her own. "That fucking cock is so nice; you're so lucky, Yuri," Seohyun said.

"Bring those big, juicy tits and wrap them under my husband's cock," Yuri demanded of Seohyun, who quickly followed and gave you a very aggressive and bouncy titfuck. "Fuck yeah," Yuri said, watching Seohyun's big boobs bounce like crazy up and down your cock, adding a little spit as Seohyun kept squeezing your shaft. "Her tits are so fucking perfect," Yuri said, licking them while Soehyun kept performing her titfucking show. You quickly started meeting the bounce of her boobs with thrusts upwards, increasing the friction with Seohyun's wonderful melons. "Let's go, baby, fuck those titties; they are so big and soft, perfect for fucking." Yuri cheered on as she kissed Seohyun while YoonA licked the tip of your cock every time it emerged out of Seohyun's boobs.

"Tonight, this cock is our fun stick; we can do whatever we want to it," Yuri told her friends as Seohyun continued to squeeze her boobs around it, taking every chance she could and then deepthroating. "You suck it so good, but I'm not surprised; you got a lot of practice with microphones," Yuri praised her as both teamed up on your cock, while YoonA kissed you up top.

YoonA moved down as all three girls sucked your cock as hard as possible. "This cock needs to be put to good use," Yuri said as YoonA deepthroated it and jerked it hard. "Whose pussy should go in first?" she asked. "I think you need to lay back and let us use you," she continued.

You followed your wife's instructions as Seohyun sat on your face while YoonA sat her pussy on your cock. Yuri watched as her friends had fun with you, Seohyun grinding her cunt in your face while YoonA bounced on your cock nice and slow. "I love watching that big cock stretch that pink pussy," Yuri told YoonA, while Seohyun leaked the first juices into your mouth.

"Then come here and get this privileged view," YoonA instructed Yuri as your wife ducked down to suck your balls while YoonA kept bouncing on your shaft."YES, YES, YES, IT'S SOOO GOOOD," she moaned as she increased her pace, grinding on your dick while Yuri fingered her cunt, YoonA soon reciprocating the favor and reaching her hands into your wife's pussy as well. "Keep going, girl, bounce on that dick," Yuri cheered on Yoona. "Look at me; show me how much of a slut you are for my hubby's big cock; take all of it, all the way deep," she continued.

YoonA pulled your cock out of her pussy, letting your wife have a taste of it. "Bounce on it," Seohyun ordered, dropping out of your face and lining behind YoonA to spank her sexy butt. Your blood started boiling, and your urge to pound YoonA's warm cunt hard only increased each second. You grabbed her waist and pushed YoonA down against your body, thrusting upwards as hard as you could. "Oh my God," she moaned, caught by surprise but enjoying her dream fantasy of getting her cunt destroyed by a young stud with endless stamina.

You grabbed YoonA's long legs and locked her in a full nelson position, putting one of Korea's most sought-after pussies at full control of you. "OH MY GODDDDD," she screamed as your cock now pounded her cunt like a piston, using her like a fuckdoll, which YoonA enjoyed a lot. A big young cock treating her like a toy is like heaven to her. "FUCK ME JUST LIKE THAT," she screamed just in time before Seohyun shut her mouth, Yuri enjoying as she licked your swinging balls, hitting her face and landing right against YoonA's walls, while your hands reached from behind to grope her tits. "Fuck me harder; make me your dirty fucking whore," she begged as you showed no signs of slowing down.

"USE HER FUCKING PUSSY, THERE YOU GO," Yuri commanded and enjoyed as you locked YoonA's legs further up in the air and increased the speed of your poundings. "FUCKKKKKK," the visual screamed as you turned her into just a cocksleeve, slamming her cunt with hard thrusts and fulfilling the dream of every Korean dude who grew up under the Girls' Generation domination era. YoonA turned into a screaming mess as your cock ripped her pussy apart under your wife's watch. "YES, YES, YES, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK." She couldn't stop screaming while both Yuri and Seohyun enjoyed watching you use her pussy to the maximum and dreamed of taking their turns on your big cock next.

Yuri got extra dirty, licking Seohyun's asshole while the maknae licked your shaft that still pumped YoonA like a piston. As soon as you pulled out of her, a numb YoonA could only think of tasting herself in that cock, bobbing her head as hard as she could and racing to take first dibs in tasting her juicy cunt. "Give me that fucking cock," Yuri ordered, but it was too late, as Seohyun quickly jumped ahead of her, sliding your cock in her pussy shortly after YoonA stopped sucking it off. "AHHHHH," she screamed as your big shaft ripped through her hole.

You pushed Seohyun's body closer to yours as YoonA slid on top of the maknae, interlocking the lips of her pussy with the ones of Seohyun's mouth. Seohyun now had the best of both worlds, able to taste your cock fresh from YoonA's cunt while her own cunt got pounded hard by it. You didn't let Seohyun even adjust to your cock ripping her pussy apart, picking up right where you had left off with YoonA, while the visual grinded her cunt on the maknae's face. Yuri loved to see it, her friends having fun with her hubby.

"GIVE IT TO ME, USE ME LIKE A FUCKING TOY," Seohyun begged as your cock pounded her pussy balls deep. Yuri chimed in and played with her friend's big, bouncy boobs as they jiggled with every hard thrust you gave to Seohyun's pussy, slapping them against each other. "Look at those big fucking tits jiggling like jelly," Yuri said, loving how submissive Seohyun looked as YoonA continued to grind in her face. Your hands reached into Seohyun's clit as you pounded her into a crazy pearly gates position, and she enjoyed every second of it. "AHHHH, YES, YES, YES, YES," she screamed as loud as possible.

"Fuck her, take that pussy," Yuri commanded as you destroyed Seohyun's pussy to the fullest as well. "AHHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she kept moaning, clinging to YoonA's pussy as your thrusts kept stabbing her insides and Yuri kept playing with her tits. You and YoonA started fingering Seohyun's clit together, quickly triggering a reaction from the maknae. "OH SHIT, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP," she begged, getting weaker and weaker.

"I'M GONNA CUM," Seohyun screamed, making you, YoonA, and Yuri only push harder against her. "Give me that fucking cum," Yuri commanded as all three of you rubbed Seohyun's clit, her head resting on YoonA's lap as the pounding didn't stop. Seohyun got away from your grasp and started bouncing on your cock, while Yuri fingered her and you fingered YoonA, making the visual squirt all over your face. The room only got louder, filled by the endless moans of Seohyun and YoonA. "Come on, girl, cum for me," Yuri commanded. "Show me how much you love this cock; ride it hard until you cream all over it," she continued, looking at Seohyun.

Seohyun turned into the center of attention, all the girls teaming up on her as your cock kept pushing. Yuri sucked her tits, and YoonA licked her clit. "God, that's so amazing," Seohyun said as she was overwhelmed. You chimed in and kissed her, then moved down into her amazing boobs. "OH YEAH, MAKE ME CUM," she screamed, finally releasing her juices.

"Wifey, it's your turn now," you directed your attention to Yuri, who quickly crawled in your direction on all fours as you exited the bed. The other girls cheered. "We wanna see those two lovebirds," YoonA said as you carried Yuri in your arms, taking her to the pole dancing apparatus she was at when you found her in that room, sitting at the bottom of it and letting her squat down on your cock.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," Yuri moaned as she perfectly bounced on that dick, YoonA and Seohyun giving her kisses from up top and enjoying the view. "That's so sexy," Seohyun said as she spat on Yuri's mouth. "Dirty whore so addicted to cock," YoonA said to her as she pushed her pussy on Yuri's mouth for your wife to eat, you just watching as she kept riding your cock. YoonA put one of her legs up, letting Yuri and Seohyun both stimulate her, Yuri licking her cunt while Seohyun fingered it. The it girl in the end always gets herself to the center of attention, you becoming a sideshow to YoonA's squirting all over your wife's face while Yuri bounced on your cock.

"Kiss my ass," YoonA tells Yuri as your wife moves into her asshole, making the visual moan hard as her licks got more frequent with the speed of her bounces on your cock picking up. Seohyun tries to match and pushes harder, fingering YoonA's clit. "AHHHHHHH," the visual queen screams, both girls now teaming up to eat her holes, Yuri in her ass, Seohyun in her pussy. "YES, YES, YES," Yuri screams as she continues to impale herself on your cock, enjoying one of the best rides ever while YoonA shoves her butt in her face.

Yuri twerks on your cock, leading to you spanking her ass and spreading her cheeks. YoonA pushes your wife's head further into her anus, getting tongued really good while Yuri moans all over her anal fuckhole; Yuri increases the pace of her twerking, thinking of the night before her wedding when she made you cum all over her pussy with that same move. But she decides to be a kind, sharing wife and spares you from it, letting her friends enjoy more of your cock as she pulls out of it and brings YoonA in your direction. "Looks like she's very horny; we can't satisfy her anymore," Yuri says as YoonA gets closer to you, and you jerk your cock off in anticipation. You already knew how beautiful she was, but face to face and completely naked, she looks even more amazing.

You kiss YoonA, then lift her right leg, pounding her pussy hard from the start as she clings to both poles: yours and the dancing instrument. "Oh shit, oh shit," the beautiful visual moans as Yuri watches it closely, massaging her pussy while Seohyun eats your wife's ass to take a little break. "You like the way he fucks you?" Yuri asks, but YoonA doesn't answer as she kisses you, but Yuri can see your cock bulging under her friend's fit belly. "OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK," YoonA screams as you increase the speed and lift her leg further up in the air, stretching her out to the fullest once again. Your wife truly wasn't lying when she said YoonA got one of the most fuckable cunts to ever exist.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," YoonA begs. Not like you ever would; her pussy is just too good for that. You take it at full speed, making Yoona moan really hard as her legs are fully spread and her eyes roll. She clings to you with more kisses as Yuri just enjoys her friend getting destroyed the way she likes the most. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams as you keep going, Yuri now letting Seohyun have a privileged seat and finger YoonA's pussy as she gets fucked hard while your wife eats Seohyun's ass. YoonA decides to go full acrobat, facing Seohyun and kissing her as she puts her opposite leg up in the air and lets you keep railing her cunt even harder.

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going, OH FUCK," YoonA commands as her cheeks clap hard, and she turns into your free-use fuckslut. This is better exercise for her than any trip to the gym; she loves the way your cock destroys her cunt. You grab YoonA from behind and give her a rough standing doggy while choking her. "OH YEAHHHH," she screams in excitement as loud noises come out of her cheeks getting clapped. "So fucking good," she moans, Yuri and Seohyun making out to the scene of her friend getting pounded into oblivion.

"Who wants to go next?" you ask Yuri and Seohyun as you rub your shaft between their mouths, both of them enjoying it a lot. YoonA soon joins, and you are in paradise, having three beautiful women's faces all over your cock. Yuri clings to your balls as YoonA and Seohyun rub their mouths against your shaft and take turns deepthroating it.

"Let's stack them up," you tell the girls. Seohyun gets at the bottom, Yuri in the middle, and YoonA up top. You start with the maknae. "OH FUCK YES, GIVE ME THAT COCK, PLEASE, KEEP GOING, THAT FEELS SO GOOD," a needy Seohyun screams as you fuck her pussy and eat YoonA's ass at the same time.

You tease Yuri, fingering her cunt before it's her turn to take your cock inside her. Grabbing YoonA's slim waist up top, you thrust hard against your wife's pussy. "OH FUCK YES, I LOVE THAT BIG COCK," Yuri says as you pound her and spank YoonA's ass. Soon, it's the visual's turn. Your wife can tell how addicted you are to her friend's pussy as you fuck YoonA the hardest among all three, making her live up to her reputation as a free-use toy. "OH FUCKKKK," she screams as you push hard into her cunt for a third time that day.

You keep taking turns among the girls, moving back to the middle to fuck Yuri while kissing YoonA and groping her tits, the visual queen slapping your face while you slap her tits. You then finally drop all the way down to the floor, sliding your cock under Seohyun's body until it reaches deep in her cunt. "AHHHH!" she screams, her walls still very sensitive from the crazy pounding you gave her. You push up into her pussy as the other two girls put all their featherweight on top of Seohyun. "OH YEAH," she screams. You then do the same to Yuri and YoonA, pounding them.

You take YoonA first as all the girls bend themselves over against the bed. "More fun," Yuri says. "How did you get so lucky?" YoonA asks her friend as you are already working her pussy once again while Yuri and Seohyun smile at each other. You use YoonA really hard, as she has proved to be able to take it, pulling her hair and spanking her butt hard as you show her who owns her delicious cunt. "Look at that perfect ass jiggling," Yuri comments.

Seohyun is next. "AHHHH YEAHHHH," she soon screams, getting overwhelmed as you grab her waist and the other two girls grab her tits, and you finger Yuri and YoonA's pussies as you pound the maknae. "I love that nice young stud cock; look how hard she pushes into that fucking pussy," Yuri says, staring at you and then kissing YoonA.

It's finally your wife's turn. "Ohhhh, stick that cock in there," she commands. You grab her neck. "Oh my God, I love watching that big cock fucking Yuri," Seohyun tells you as you fuck your wife the hardest of all three. "Baby, you're gonna make me cum," Yuri announces, her walls clenching hard on your dick as you keep pounding her. "HARDER, BABY, HARDER," she demands, and you keep pushing, grabbing her hair hard. "YES, YES, YES, DON'T FUCKING STOP, OHHHHH," Yuri screams as you spank her ass and go even faster, sharing kisses with YoonA and Seohyun. "Use my fucking pussy; take it all; I'm so fucking wet for you. Cum inside me; put a baby inside your hot wife's womb," Yuri begs.

"DEEPER, DEEPER, NOBODY HAS EVER FUCKED ME LIKE THAT. I WANT YOUR CUM IN MY PUSSY, PLEASE, BREED ME," Yuri screams as her walls tighten further; she's ready to cum at any moment, and so are you, taking her cunt at maximum speed as you enjoy your final seconds before inevitably blowing that huge load inside her. "TAKE THAT FUCKING COCK," you say to her, spanking her ass. Her wall clenches, and it's that way that everything ends, both of you cumming at the same time as Yuri's cunt squeezes your cock until it milks your sperm that lands in her womb.

YoonA and Seohyun take the sloppy seconds of your cum oozing out of Yuri's pussy. "That was amazing, hubby," your wife says, kissing you as both girls swap your cum with her, and then she spits it on Seohyun's big tits. "I love spitting cum all over those tiddies," Yuri says. Your cock needs a rest; fucking those three beauties isn't easy.

The three girls take a rest at the hot pool, their bodies completely naked as Yuri praises you. "Nobody fucks you like us," she says. "Thanks, Yuri, for helping us fulfill our young stud fantasy," YoonA says. You pick up a bottle of champagne and pop it up, spraying it all over their tits.

"I'm gonna make you guys some food," Yuri says as she heads inside and puts her bikini on. YoonA takes her towel and washes herself, moving inside as well as she picks back her clothes, leaving you and Seohyun alone at the pool. You just can't stop staring at her boobs. Until she finally makes a move.

"You wanna fuck those tiddies again?" Seohyun asks. "Well, I don't say no to a girl like you," you tell her. You sit on the border of the pool; your cock is still flaccid, but it gets back up as soon as Seohyun squeezes it between her tits, her moving them beautifully up and down and sucking your tip from time to time, smiling at you each time she does it and getting your cock harder and harder.

Seohyun's boob massage keeps going for a while. "More, baby, more," you tell her. Suddenly, YoonA appears back on the frame as she was watching it from her room and licking her chops. She picks up a can of cream on the table to the side of the pool and sprays it all over Seohyun's tits, catching both of you by surprise.

"What are you doing, YoonA?" Seohyun asks. "Shhhh, we don't want Yuri to hear us; let's have him all to ourselves." YoonA replies as the covers your cock in cream, letting Seohyun eat it now and suck your cock by the pool under YoonA's watch. Soon, you pick up the cream and pour it on YoonA's midriff, licking it while Seohyun keeps taking your cock in her mouth.

You bring Seohyun out of the pool, eating the cream from her tits, kissing the torsos like crazy afterwards, then feed your cock in each of their mouths for them to deepthroat, taking turns fucking their faces while pouring extra doses of cream on your cock for them to taste as YoonA and Seohyun have fun getting dirty.

You carry Seohyun and suck her tits while YoonA keeps choking on your cock. "I want this fucking dick back inside me," Seohyun whispers in your ear. You promptly oblige, getting her back on the floor as you and YoonA warm her up, you licking Seohyun's ass while YoonA eats her pussy. "Fuck yes," Seohyun moans as both of you team up on her holes.

You finger fuck Seohyun a bit, making her moan and squirt, but it doesn't take long for your fingers to get replaced by your cock." "OH FUCK YEAH," she moans as she gets caught off guard, you fucking her hard from behind and making her scream as you start pounding her cunt under YoonA's watch, her cheeks getting clapped hard and her boobs jiggling like pinballs while YoonA licks them. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, FUCK ME, MORE, MORE, MORE," Seohyun begs as you pick up the speed and spank her ass and grope her tits as well. "GOD YES, FUCK ME," she keeps screaming.

YoonA tastes your cock as you and Seohyun kiss each other. "Come here," you tell her, carry fucking the big tit maknae and sucking her tits while your cock stretches her pussy at full speed. You push her to the couch to the side of the pool, any fears of Yuri being able to hear it dissipating when you see how loud the sounds coming out of the kitchen are; she's too focused on making dinner now. You seize the opportunity and pound Seohyun in a hard missionary that makes her tits bounce even further, which quickly turns into a mating press as you get more and more determined to cum inside her like you did moments before to your wife. YoonA sucks her friend's tits as Seohyun gets nailed hard.

You're much more sensitive now, so it doesn't take long for you to explode again inside Seohyun's womb. "Hmmmm, my tits are gonna grow so much bigger when I get pregnant," she tells you with a sexy smirk. "I think YoonA wants that too," she says, cleaning your cock and sucking it to get it back hard for her friend. "I love how big those fucking tits are," YoonA says, sucking Seohyun's tits as the maknae warms your cock up for her.

Soon, YoonA is back sitting on your cock as you pound her from above. "Be a nasty fucking girl and lick that shaft," she orders Seohyun, but she decides not to follow her unnie and instead spanks YoonA's ass, which she enjoys a lot. "Fucking spank that ass," YoonA soon starts saying, and Seohyun quickly follows as she continues to bounce on your cock. You and YoonA go crazy, trying to outduel each other to see who can fuck the hardest. "Nasty boy, keep spanking that fucking ass," she says as she rides you.

But as YoonA tries to push further, you deny her, carrying her body and pushing it against the wooden dinner table. This is where you will breed her. No nice couches like with Seohyun; that pretty bitch deserves it raw and hard for being such a slut from the second you met her. Another mating press ensues, this one even rougher as you climb on top of the table and manhandle YoonA's cunt. "Fuck that pussy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she begs as she spits on you, getting you even angrier as your cock bulges under her tummy. YoonA is now your dinner, her body smashing that table. It only takes a couple of minutes of such animalesque fucking to get you close to cum; well, that is until a familiar voice emerges out of the house.

"Baby, I made some dinner for you g... Holy fuck," Yuri can't finish the sentence as she drops the food onto the ground. Your wife can't believe what she's seeing, rubbing her eyes as she watches you breed her hot friend in front of her. "I leave for half an hour, and you couldn't help but stick your dick in my friend?" an angry Yuri asks. "S-sorry, baby," you tell her, feeling very embarrassed.

"Well, the party is over, baby; I think I'll have to offer more for you to remain faithful to me; you got too addicted to my friends," Yuri says. "Let's try something for the first time," Yuri says, taking her bikini off and showing you her ass. "Are you ready to fuck me in the ass, baby boy?" she asks.

Yuri sucks your cock. "I can feel the smell of their pussies all over it," she says. Although Yuri planned the whole foursome thing, she was really angry, feeling like you had taken advantage of her goodwill. "Come here, girls; I want you to watch him fuck me hard in the ass," Yuri says, giving you a crazy deepthroat and biting your cock while doing so. "This is your punishment for being such a naughty boy," she says.

Yuri bends over as you start eating her ass, YoonA and Seohyun staying by her side. "She's got such a great tanned booty; look how good that bikini mark looks on her," Seohyun says. "Right there, ahhhhh," Yuri starts moaning as all three of you do some teamwork around her anus; you then finger her pussy while letting Seohyun and YoonA do the dirty anal work. "Yuri's got quite a nasty ass; it isn't like mine that smells like flowers. You should try it one day, by the way," YoonA says. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Yuri says, shutting her pretty friend down.

Indeed, you don't get ahead of yourself, taking on Yuri's pussy at first. "AHHHH FUCK, YEAH, YEAH," Yuri screams as you fuck her while playing with Seohyun's tits in your mouth. You grab her waist and clap her cheeks hard. "AHHHHHHH," she keeps screaming as you fuck her in a much rougher manner now, beating her ass like a drum as well. "You like that, bitch?" you ask her. "Yes, I love it; keep fucking me like that," Yuri demands.

After a little pussy warm-up, you shove your cock inside Yuri's loose butthole, mounting on top of her from the get-go. "Oh my God," you say as you destroy Yuri's asshole like a raging bull, YoonA and Seohyun adding to the pressure and spanking her friend's butt. You pound Yuri balls deep, showing no mercy for her anus and only taking some breaks for YoonA and Seohyun to lube your cock up with their mouths. Yuri's butthole queefs as she masturbates herself to cope with the heat you put in her ass. "Like this, like that," is all she can say as the roles are fully reversed, as you turn Yuri from a mommy so sure of herself to an anal fucktoy.

"AHHHH YESSS, MORE, MORE MORE," Yuri begs as her asshole gets destroyed balls deep, her gaping butthole getting larger and larger as you use it like it's only meant to be a cocksleeve, nothing else, as you're fully determined to make Yuri unable to walk or shit as you want to punish her asshole until it gets sore.

"Spread that fucking ass, bitch," you tell her, getting rougher and rougher. Yuri is no longer your lovely wife; now she's just a fuckhole for you to use and destroy. "Yeah, give it to me; fuck my ass harder," she commands, ready for more as you get very animalesque, giving her a lot of spankings and getting deeper and deeper while YoonA and Seohyun make life harder for her, stacking on top of Yuri. "AHHHHHHHH," Yuri keeps screaming as you grab her and thrust hard against her ass. "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her." Meanwhile, Yoona and Seohyun cheer on, pushing you further.

You bring Yuri to the same wooden table you were breeding YoonA at moments ago and start worshipping your wife's pussy; she opens her legs as you lick and sniff her cunt, while YoonA and Seohyun also want to take a piece of it. Both girls then move up and kiss Yuri's sexy midriff, letting you take on her pussy all by yourself. Soon, your cock is back in your wife's ass, you grabbing Yuri's legs as she lets YoonA finger her clit. "I'm so fucking wet with that big cock in my ass and those hands all over my clit," she says. You use her pussy a bit as a little relief before going back to her asshole while YoonA and Seohyun spread her friend's clit, but soon, things are about to be even crazier.

You get on top of the table. At this point, you don't care if you are going to break it or not; you just want to fuck your wife in the ass as hard as possible, giving her an insane anal mating press that makes YoonA's and Seohyun's look easy. Yuri's back smashes the table as you press her hot body nonstop, her ass completely up in the air as your cock drills it balls deep. YoonA and Seohyun just watch now, letting you two have this moment by yourselves. It's been years since they last saw Yuri get pounded like that, probably not since the days SNSD was still fairly active. You switch between her pussy and ass, toying with your wife and using her like a fuckhole, enjoying watching her moan and scream like a dirty whore as you completely top Yuri.

"I think I'm gonna cum," you tell her. "Not yet, baby boy, I'll make you cum; you'll be a good boy for mommy," Yuri says, taking back control and getting on her knees to suck your cock for one final round. YoonA and Seohyun push her face against it and help suck it too while also slapping it on your wife's face. Yuri deepthroats you, almost making you blow it prematurely. "Don't cum now or I'll divorce you tomorrow," she threatens. YoonA and Seohyun seize the opportunity and perform deepthroats of their own; after all, if Yuri divorces you, then she won't hesitate to pounce on that big cock.

You sat on top of the table and pounded Yuri's ass like crazy. "Damn, you're such a fucking slut," you tell her. That motivates Yuri, as she quickly gains control of the ride and starts bouncing on your cock like crazy. "You're gonna cum for Mommy right now," she says, ramping up the speed and twerking on your cock. You try to hold as hard as you can, not wanting to give your wife such an easy win, but she keeps moving faster and faster. "AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams.

"FUCK, YOU'RE SQUEEZING MY COCK SO HARD I'M GONNA..." This time you were the one who couldn't finish the sentence. If there is one thing Yuri can do to perfection, it is milking a cock using her sexy, tanned ass. And you, as just another young guy, couldn't resist her mommy moves, filling her asshole to the brim for your fourth and final load of the night. She had drained your balls to the fullest. You didn't even know what to do anymore. What started as a calm vacation in Jeju had ended with you lost in the turbulent waters of a Bermuda Triangle of beautiful mommies that had milked you completely dry.

"I love you, hubby; your cock is amazing. Hope you have more in the tank for later tonight," Yuri said as she left, getting ready to take a shower. YoonA and Seohyun follow suit, leaving you contemplating the stars and finally thinking to yourself that you had won in life after so many failures before.

And things were only going to get better.

The three girls were taking their shower together. As they talked about all the sex they had during the night, YoonA asked Yuri a question.

"Can your baby boy be my secret husband too?"

"I want him as well," Seohyun followed.

"Hmmm, I'll think about it," Yuri says.

"We are taking it as a yes," YoonA finished. "My birthday is in around six months; I want him for that weekend," she finished.

#yuri smut #yoona smut #seohyun smut #snsd smut #girls generation smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader smut

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logansdoll · 7 months ago

Text

all the time in the world

part two of "37"

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, fluffy fluff, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan's down bad for you, you're down bad for him, it's a whole thing, etc.

Logan groaned as he felt something stir beside him, the sun spilling in through the windows and bathing the room in golden light.

'The hell...'

His power had already come into affect, the metal bars Magneto impaled him with, along with the water in his drowning lungs, completely gone.

Sitting up, he rested a hand on his side of his head.

And that's when it all came back to him.

Hank.

Charles.

Mystique.

With a roar, Logan shot out of bed, claws drawn and chest heaving as he snapped his head around, looking for the direction of the fight.

But instead, he found a bedroom, which had plants growing from every nook and cranny, the flowers blooming awake along with another in the room.

"Baby?" your soft voice broke through his frenzy, calming him almost instantly.

Quickly, Logan turned around, shoulders sinking as he caught sight of you sliding out of bed, still wearing the same silky robe.

Of course, it looked a little more worn, but it still did its job, and made you look just as beautiful as the day he left.

"(n/n)?"

You looked exactly the same, save for the few gray streaks in your hair, and now had the air of a woman seasoned in life's trials and tribulations, yet still glowing with youth.

It reminded him of how astronomically lucky he was that you even gave him the time of day—past, present, or otherwise.

As you drew closer, slowly, his claws retracted, and he watched you approach with eyes that made it seem like he was seeing you for the first time.

"You alright?" you asked, hands cupping his cheeks and smoothing over his cheekbones, before sliding down to rest over his chest. "You haven't had one this bad in a long time..."

Eyes flicking up to his face, your worries increased tenfold to see no change in his expression.

The man was just staring at you.

"Honey, is everything okay—"

He didn't even let you finish the sentence before he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

And, despite the initial shock, you eased into him, arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer, resting your head against his pounding heartbeat.

"While I'm loving all this early morning attention... you're starting to scare me," you chuckled, dryly, lifting your head to look up at him. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on?"

He took in a deep, slow breath, trying to find the words.

"Remember that day in 1973..." he started in a low voice, one hand squeezing your hip, "When I told you to wait until I find my way back..."

You swallowed thickly, biting back a question as you nodded in confirmation.

He took a moment, scanning your face for any sort of reluctance, happy to find none.

"Well... I found it..."

His eyes landed on yours, and the way you looked up at him made his chest roar.

You weren't making this easy for him.

He was already holding himself back on a thread of sanity, and now he had to deal with the fact that you looked like a goddamn supermodel, and smelled like cocoa butter and vanilla.

Your curves were curvier, your hips were dippier, and you now had an extra ounce of unspoken confidence that could bring any man to his knees.

Him included.

Your hands found his face, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Because he was to you, and now he all parts of him were back in your arms.

You chuckled, eyes misty as you smiled up at him, resting your forehead against his.

"Looks like my husband's whole again."

Record scratch.

"Husband?" he asked, eyes widening as he crackled a small smile.

You nodded, proudly holding up your hand to show off the gold wedding band sitting pretty on your ring finger.

"Mhmm," you hummed, amused by his shocked expression. "You put a ring on it fifteen years ago today... so don't think I'm gonna let you run out on me again."

He chuckled, fingers tucking under your chin and softly caressing your jaw.

"Wouldn't dream of it, doll."

Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips against yours, hard, unloading well over fifty year's worth of pining.

You sank into it almost immediately, matching his fervor as you rested your hands on his chest, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him even closer.

The two of you moved together in perfect sync, fitting each other like puzzle pieces, as you kept up with his rhythm.

He grasped you by the small of your back, pressing you further into him and giving your hips a little squeeze, earning a quiet squeak.

Close wasn't close enough.

He wanted you even closer than that.

He wanted you so much, every part of him in contact with you want on fire.

But, alas, you two were human (not really), and air would be needed eventually.

The two of you separated with a gasp, cheeks flushed and foreheads resting against each other.

"I don't think you know how long I've been waitin' to do that," he smirked, catching his breath.

You smiled, sliding your hands up from his chest to his shoulders.

"Come show me," you purred, staring at him with those sparkling, (e/c) eyes of yours.

'Goddamn...'

He leaned in closer, about to say something else when, of course, he was interrupted.

"Hey, you two better be up and ready," Scott's voice cut through the air, the two of you quietly groaning at the intervention. "You both have got classes in five minutes."

You and Logan separated, albeit reluctantly, straightening yourselves out a bit.

"I'm a teacher now?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Self defense," you answered, teasingly, "Some things never change."

Suddenly, he took your hand in his, holding it firmly as a serious look came over his face.

"I'm gonna talk to the professor. See if he can get my memories back," he stated, reassuringly. "I don't want you to feel like we have to start from scratch... or our years have gone to waste."

That took you by surprise.

"Is that what you think?" you asked, concerned, as you turned to him. "Baby, I could care less whether you remember or not. It would be nice, but it would never make me believe that the years we've spent together have gone to waste."

You smiled, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek.

"Through thick and thin, it's you and me, Logan... If you're lost, I'll find you. If you forget, I'll remind you... we have all the time in the world."

Goddamnit.

You were getting him choked up.

Misty eyed, he pulled you closer, looking down at you like you were the only damn thing in the entire universe.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he smiled, thankfully.

You shrugged, teasingly, placing a quick peck on his cheek before heading toward your shared bathroom.

"Beats me."

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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hyukascampfire · 2 months ago

Text

𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg.

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain.

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever.

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded? He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you.

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.”

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure.

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks?

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…”

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show.

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition.

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning.

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak.

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four. “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you.

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top.

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone.

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.”

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that.

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust.

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house.

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes.

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic.

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder.

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess.

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality.

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding.

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you.

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted.

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good.

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath.

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it.

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it.

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this…

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh.

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad?

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost.

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet.

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

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comatosebunny09 · 3 months ago

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sparkler | sylus

— summary: quietly, he plucks your glass from betwixt your fingers to set it down. fixes you with a look that’s both fragile and intense, his breath fanning over your inflamed skin. taking up your hand, he gently splays your fingers over his chest where his heart beats a war cadence. his voice is barely above a whisper, lips quivering. “what will it take for me to convince you that this heart races solely for you?” — cw: written with female reader in mind, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fluffy romantic filth, praise, language, alcohol use, i'm half awake rn so forgive me if i miss any warnings, mdni — wc: ~3k — notes: inspired by @leighsartworks216 and the only for love c-drama. thank you so much for reading! — now playing: merry-go-round of life - morunas fade - the driver era

New Year’s is a time for celebration—an occasion to usher in fresh beginnings and bountiful blessings. To reflect on things past and to look forward to the future.

You didn’t want to spend such a significant time alone.

So, naturally, you link up with a friend to herald in the new year over hotpot and cold beers.

The pair of you meander down the moon-laden street toward your apartment, arms linked together. You’re giggling and gossiping, tucked cozy in your coats, shielded from the wintry chill. Bags of ingredients crinkle in your hands, waiting to be cooked and consumed.

You’re indebted to her for sparing some time for you.

Sure, you could’ve easily watched the fireworks from your balcony by yourself. But you’re tired of being alone. You decided to make a change, shedding your reclusive shell. Just because you couldn’t get everything you wanted didn’t mean you had to shut yourself out from living.

Caught up in your thoughts, you hardly notice your friend slowing to a stop. You glance at her, your cheeks aching with a smile.

“What’s up?” you chuckle, studying her stunned expression.

Her lips quiver, eyes widening a fraction. You nudge her with your elbow, trying to draw her out of whatever trance she’s fallen into.

“That your man?” she teases once she’s broken free, a smirk spreading across her face.

“What are you talking about?”

Following her line of sight, you finally understand what has her so shell-shocked.

In the middle of the street, against the sleek outline of a car, sits a familiar shock of white. He commands attention without trying to, a towering presence with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and a smile rounding his lips. His scarlet gaze is tuned to you. Mirthful as he takes you in, frost adorning his black turtleneck.

You’re rooted to the spot. It is your friend’s turn to chuckle. She gently pats your arm, slipping out of your grasp.

“Looks like you don’t need me anymore.”

With that, she eases out of frame, bidding you goodnight, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as she walks past the focal point of your evening.

Left to your own devices, you strangle the bags of food in your hands. Gaze falls to the ground, and you awkwardly shift your weight between your feet.

He’s the last person you expected to see tonight. Figured he had more important matters to attend to instead of showing up on your doorstep on New Year’s Eve.

You wanted to spend the night with him more than anything. Hoped you could. But you knew that was wishful thinking. You knew where you stood in his life, knew your place. It was no longer by his side. You more so played the role of a supporting character these days, quietly watching him from the sidelines.

However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the tips of his shoes cut into frame. You peer up at him, your heart racing, your mouth slightly ajar, plumes of frosted breath forming between you. He’s wordless as he brushes your fingers with his, plucking the convenience store bags from your hands.

He motions to the entrance of your complex with a nod. Starts towards the door, not waiting for your response. And you toddle after him once your legs remember the art of movement.

—

Two glasses clink together in a celebratory fashion.

The contents for your hotpot sit unopened on the counter, your beers dripping with condensation alongside them.

Swathed in the moonlight pouring in from your balcony doors and the idle flicker of scented candles littered throughout your living space, you share a bottle of wine with your company. The red and viscous fluid sloshes about in your glass, reminiscent of the idle stir of his irises as he studies you.

“Sorry if I was interrupting,” he says after taking a swig. The rumble of his voice vibrates in your gut. It’s a pleasant feeling, stirring alongside the alcohol warming your veins. “Had I known you made plans, I would’ve made myself scarce.”

You wave your hand dismissively, a soft chuckle in your throat as you prop your cheek against your palm. “She’ll be alright. Pretty sure she was just hanging out with me out of pity, anyway.”

He hums into his wine glass before taking another sip. You watch with bated breath as his Adam’s apple bobs, your throat dry. He mirrors you with an unguarded smile, elbow settled on your couch’s headrest, temple resting on his knuckles.

Silence stretches between you. Comfortable where it was once tense. He sets his glass on your coffee table. Pats your thigh, his palm warm and possessive, moving along your quad.

“I honestly can’t think of a better way to spend my night than with you.” His confession catches you off guard.

You swallow, struggling to find your voice. When it returns to you, you jest to dispel the solemn atmosphere, “Trouble in paradise?”

It’s too easy to put up that playful front. To tuck the anxious little thing you truly are beneath years of built-up facades.

Sylus snorts, brow quirked, eyes shining with intrigue. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You snicker, your glass poised at your lips. “Well, I don’t know. I figured you would have rather spent your time with…someone else.” That someone else, of course, being one pretty and polite Miss Hunter.

Something in his gaze shifts as your voice peters. He has a faraway look in his eyes before he leans in, the couch cushions squeaking beneath his weight.

Quietly, he plucks your glass from betwixt your fingers to set it down. Fixes you with a look that’s both fragile and intense, his breath fanning over your inflamed skin. Taking up your hand, he gently splays your fingers over his chest where his heart beats a war cadence.

His voice is husky, lips quivering. “What will it take for me to convince you that this heart races solely for you?”

Your mouth falls slightly open, a delightful thrill shooting through you. You can’t look away, drawn into the crimson whirlpool of his stare. Unconsciously, you lean closer, his lashes bowing as he glances at your lips. If he means what he says, then—

You’re not thinking when you whisper it. Entwined in the spell that’s befallen you, the warmth he exudes, the sincerity in his tone.

“Kiss me.”

You’ve but a tender hand curving around the nape of your neck and fingers sneaking up into the delicate hairs that reside there as a warning before he acquiesces, luring you into a kiss that sets your chest aflame and siphons the air from your lungs.

His lips are as soft as the petals they resemble, pressing against yours. Warm and insistent, invoking the barest sound from your throat. He draws back slightly, scrutinizing your features. Searching for any signs of discomfort, quietly offering you an out. But you don’t deter him, your fingers tugging at the fabric of his sweater around his chest.

He chuckles something enamored. You kiss away his smirk, drunk off the feel of him. Off his taste, his scent. Wine tastes so much better when it comes from him.

He cautiously pries your mouth open with his tongue, pouring the grittiest sound into you when you grant him the entry he so politely requests.

The air shifts when his tongue finds yours. They ensnare themselves in a lazy, wet waltz. You pull him impossibly closer, the hard planes of his chest pressed against yours. Your arms intuitively twine around his neck. His palms splay on your hips, mooring you to the spot.

You trade quieted groans, greedily sucking down air between the dancing of your mouths. It’s all so much, and yet not enough. You want to burrow under his skin. Take up residence in his heart, living there for all eternity. He breaks away from the tempting suction of your mouth with a soft, sticky click. Your head falls back, lids shuttered, when his lips brand the column of your throat.

His kisses are honey-slow. Warm like a mug of hot cocoa on frigid nights. He tugs the neckline of your shirt to the side, mouth sealing around the slope where shoulder meets neck. You exhale shakily, your fingers sifting through his hair. He grazes your flesh with his teeth, companying it with a suck that’s sure to leave pretty petals of green and blue blooming there come morning.

His name falls from your lips whilst his hands make several expeditions up and down your sides. Map out the contours of your body, stroking over your full thighs. He kisses his way back up to your mouth. Amid the sticky grind of your lips, he rasps,

“You taste so sweet. I knew you would be.”

Your heart flutters. Something pinches in your gut at his praise. His thumbs ease over the outer swell of your breasts. He stokes the embers of desire within you to life, and he hasn’t even taken your clothes off.

Thumbs experimentally graze your pebbled nipples. You jolt, pleasant tingles cresting below the surface of your skin. He bites your lip. Tugs on it, pulling the neediest sound from the dredges of your chest.

“May I?” he husks, artful fingers at the hem of your sweater.

You nod drunkenly. Don’t think you could ever say no to him. Not when he’s looking at you like this. Touching you like this, his fingernails igniting a flurry of goosebumps across your skin as they slide over your stomach. He tears the offending garment from your shoulders. Your hair waterfalls around your neck, eyes shining with ardor, lips parted.

He weighs your breasts in his palms. Kneads them, trapping your nipples beneath the pads of his thumbs. The feeling is amplified through the frailty of your bra. He takes his time, wordlessly appraising you with his hands. Watches you with keen interest, drunk off the moment as well.

“Can I taste you?” he breathes against your lips. How could you deny him when he’s been so considerate thus far? So gentle, handling you like glass?

You nod, anticipation coagulating in your veins. Suck in a breath when the lace of your bra slides down your nipples. He bunches your bra beneath your bosom. And the crisp air that follows is short-lived, replaced by the hot suction of his mouth.

His name flows like the sweetest supplication. You throw your head back, bowing into him, fingers tugging at tufts of white. He fastens a hand to the ridges of your spine, keeping you in place. Plucks your other nipple whilst he feasts, a clever tongue fluttering over your peak. He breaks away with a sticky pop to pay your other breast the same homage. You feel like you could die, subjected to his terribly distracting mouth like this.

You burn hot. Need more. And you’re pulling at the bottom stitching of his turtleneck, trying to pry it off. He chuckles, hearty and full-blooded, leaning back to let you tear it from his shoulders. His mouth is back on your breasts, greedily licking your nipples into the hot cavity of his mouth.

You squirm. Pinch your thighs together to ward off the pleasant pulsing taking place between them. Sylus’ hands roost on your hips. He helps you stand, reluctantly releasing your tit from his mouth. Helps you shimmy out of your jeans, snickering when you stumble to get them off.

Drawing you into his lap by the crooks of your knees, he kisses you anew. Your hands frame his cheeks, your legs bracketing his hips. Your nipples deliciously slide against the rigid pane of his chest. Your cunt drools, slowly staining your panties with arousal, pressed up against the seam of his trousers.

With an arm fastened to your waist and a hand cupping the apple of your ass, he encourages you to grind against him. He guides you into a rhythm. A tortuously slow dance that has you panting, mind reeling, sparkles of white invading your sight.

“Sylus,” you breathe, hips stuttering, panties sticking to your slit.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth hinged open, irises glazing over with lust. “Do you want me inside you?”

You nod eagerly, your hips moving of their own volition over his lap. You giggle when he suddenly hefts you into his arms one-handed, his effortless display of strength making you pine for him even more.

Your shadows dance along the walls of your hallway as he carries you to your bedroom. He tenderly deposits you onto your crisp comforter once inside, your panties and bra long discarded, and you watch, propped on your elbows, as he unfastens his belt and trousers. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth when you catch sight of him.

Even beneath the low light of your room, he is impressive. Hot and turgid, slapping intimidatingly against his abs. Your mouth waters as he nears you, to which he smirks, a laugh brewing in his chest.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he teases, notching himself between your legs, his forearms locked in the bends of your knees, splitting you nice and open. “You might stroke my ego a little too well, staring like that.”

You can’t help it. You’ve fantasized about him before, his image hijacking your mind when the ache between your legs became unbearable. But your imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. To his body, burning hot beneath the glide of your fingers. To his voice, smooth as whiskey, as he groans from your attention. To the predatory smolder of his eyes, hair falling from its once perfect coiffure into his face.

He rubs himself against your slit, coating his shaft in your nectar. You share an exhale, a gruff sound out, your thighs quaking. He feels so good when his cock head bumps your clit. Your eyes roll, toes curl.

“So pretty,” he whispers, thumb finding your clit and massaging it with meticulous arcs. “So good for me. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

You clench around nothing, swiveling your hips to chase the feel of his girth gliding along your nether region. To guide it inside you, your entrance puckering and drooling for him. Solely for him.

“Sylus, please. Fuck.”

“Do you want me to stop?” It seems he has no intention of doing so, his thumb still sifting through your sticky folds, hips still moving with delicious friction.

“N-no. Never. Fuck. Need you…inside.”

He takes up your cue, a smile canting his lips. Taps his weighted cock against your sticky cunt a few times before nestling the head into your entrance. And, oh.

“Fuck,” he strains, arms bracketing either side of your head. He slowly eases home, your greedy cunt drawing him in deeper. You cross your ankles at the small of his back, and he props himself on his elbows, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full. Stuffed to the brim, his hips notched up against your inner thighs. He pants from the effort of easing into you, from the effort of not losing himself to the hot suction of your body.

You pull him down into a kiss. Undulate your hips, spurring him to move. He thrusts into you, shallow at first, giving you time to adjust to his girth. Your fingernails bite into his shoulder blades, your pants of discomfort traded for pathetic whimpers for more more more.

He fucks you into the bed thereafter, your headboard cracking against the wall, the air punched from your lungs with each stroke. He folds you in half, your knees pressing into your breasts. This angle forces him deeper, where he unravels the pleasant tangle of nerves budding inside you.

“Unngh, you feel so fucking good,” he lauds, his hips creating a rhythm of their own. “Sucking me in like that. So fucking filthy.”

You clench around him, a sparkling feeling erupting in your gut. Tears scorch the sides of your face. A wail swells in your chest. He angles his head down to kiss them away, to stifle those pretty noises you make for him, swallowing them whole. You’re close, so close, your orgasm sinking its claws into the lining of your stomach and oozing down.

“I’m gonna—gonna cum,” you manage, peering into his eyes, and the amount of affection that resides in his gaze shoves you closer toward that slurry slope.

“Yeah? Gonna cum?” he dotes, the lowered pitch of his voice overwhelming. He fucks you harder, the bed squealing, your eyes screwing shut.

Your orgasm creeps through you, spilling like hot liquid. You grit your teeth against the rush. Spasm, a long, broken moan dragged from your body. With a few more thrusts, he staggers into the void with you, spurred by your tongue curling around his name and your cunt surrounding him like a warm embrace.

You both start when a series of explosions erupt outside your window. Peer outside, fireworks igniting across the night sky. He looks down at you. Chuckles, sweeping some errant hair from your face as you drift down. Your cheek gathered in his palm, he swoops in for a tender kiss, still nestled inside you, his thumb cruising over the apple of your cheek.

“Happy New Year,” he croons when he parts, eyes shining boyishly, smile affectionate.

You reach up to pull him down by his nape, his weight heavy yet reassuring atop you. “Happy New Year,” you return, equally as enamored.

As he rests his cheek against yours, the pair of you housed in the safety of each other’s arms, watching the fireworks scatter against the inky sky, you thank whatever higher being had chosen to bless you this New Year’s night.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus #sylus qin #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus romance #sylus fluff #qin che #x reader #early new year fic

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teaspacebar · 6 months ago

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spiced chai

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit.

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?”

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again.

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head.

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain.

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago!

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?”

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth.

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!”

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register.

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.”

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!”

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron.

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal.

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.”

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!”

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous.

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips.

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns.

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick.

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor.

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?”

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What��s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #neurodivergent!reader #— moth writes

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hoe4hotchner · 5 months ago

Text

First time | [A.H] - Kinktober 2024

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Virgin!fem!Reader

CW: 18+, MDNI, almost sickly sweet, piv, nerves, this is very vanilla smut, barely described in more than like 1-2 paragraphs, loads of kissing, they drink wine.

WC: 2.5k

Summary: It's your first time and you're nervous. Hotch wants it to be special and won't do anything you don't approve of.

A/N: I don't know if I'm satisfied with this... so do with that info if you want.

This is a prompt from the the Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober prompt list.

The light from the setting sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow around Hotch's apartment. The air was laced with something unspoken, something you weren't quite sure if you were ready for yet desperately yearned to do. Where every shadow whispered secrets of the atmosphere in the room. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you protected in your bubble.

You sat on the edge of his couch, fidgeting with the cuffs of your sleeves. You had sat here many times before, but none of them had made you feel as nervous as you were now. Your heart raced in a rhythm that matched the low, soothing jazz tunes playing softly in the background. You felt it in your veins as an anxious energy coursed through you, feeling both thrilling and overwhelming, clouding your senses in the best yet worst ways possible. Tonight was destined to be significant; it was the night you and Hotch would cross the fine line that you had danced around for a while now. Your first time.

Hotch stood in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine his broad shoulders relaxed compared to how tense they had been at work all day but his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he avoided spilling even a single drop. He was always in control, yet now he felt different — softened by the atmosphere. You snapped back to reality as you heard the soft clink of the glasses as he set them down on the table.

He turned and caught your gaze, the corner of his mouth curling into that reassuring smile you had come to cherish. “You okay?” he asked, his voice was low and comforting, instantly easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

You nodded, though it felt like a lie. “Just a bit… nervous,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The truth was that this moment, while exciting, made your stomach twist and turn. You were worried. What if you didn't meet his expectations? What if you wouldn't be enough?

Hotch stepped closer, his presence felt grounding. He took a seat beside you, his knee brushing against yours, creating a warmth that spread through your body. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “There’s no pressure, okay? We can take things as slow as you need. We can also just stay here. We don't have to do anything if you don't feel ready.”

His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found comfort in the way he looked at you — his eyes were warm, filled with understanding, but you couldn't look past the hint of desire. It was clear he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, though he would never rush you, he was not like other men you had dated. That was the beauty of Aaron Hotchner; he made you feel safe even when you weren't even sure of your own feelings.

“What if I mess it up?” you confessed, your gaze dropping to your hands. “What if I don’t know what to do?”

Hotch’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a firm but gentle grip. “You won’t mess anything up,” he assured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “This is about us — about exploring together. Just be yourself, okay?” He smiled softly at you, his eyes searching yours for a sign, a sign of whether you were truly ready or not.

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you, soothing the jitters swirling within. With him, you felt like you could be vulnerable, shedding the layers of doubt and fear that had accumulated over the years. He was patient and kind, the kind of man who would never judge you for your inexperience.

As the music shifted to a more delicate melody, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. The warmth of his body radiated against you, and it filled the space with a comforting heat. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, it was a reminder that you were in this together.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’m here.”

You took a deep breath, letting your uncertainty seep out of your body. In this moment, surrounded by the familiar scent of him and the promise of what was to come, you felt ready. Ready to explore and embrace the intimacy that had been building between you.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you lifted your head and met his gaze, feeling the flutter in your chest settle. “I’m ready,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your nerves.

Hotch’s eyes sparkled with pride, and he leaned in closer, the air felt thick with anticipation. You were alone in your own little universe, ready to take that leap into the unknown together.

The bedroom door closed softly behind you, the sound almost echoing in the stillness of the apartment. The soft light from the bedside lamps cast gentle shadows on the walls, creating a warm glow that felt inviting. You stood near the foot of the bed, your heart racing a bit as you acclimated to your surroundings. You had been in his bedroom before, but that was not the reason behind your racing heart, the circumstances were.

Hotch, always the steady presence, moved with a calm confidence that eased some of your lingering nerves. He took a moment to survey the room, making sure that everything was perfect — it had to feel just right. He then turned his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with an understanding that made your heart flutter. It was in that look — the depth of his care, the unspoken promise of patience — that you found reassurance in what you were about to do.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper, breaking the silence that hung between you. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. “We can stop at any time, or change directions if you want.”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his concern. “I know. I’m okay,” you replied, your voice steadier than you expected. “I just… I really want this. I want to give it to you.”

The air shifted, charged with anticipation. Hotch’s lips curved into a small, encouraging smile. “Good,” he said, his tone deepening. “Just remember, we’re in this together. If at any point you feel uncertain, if you want to stop, just say the word.”

You knew you were safe with him, that he would never push you beyond your limits. It was one of the many reasons why you admired him; he understood the importance of both desire and comfort, intertwining them in a way that felt natural and just right.

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his presence enveloped you. “Why don’t we take it slow?” he suggested his voice a soft rumble in his chest that sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s focus on what feels good.”

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of the wine lingering between you. It was intoxicating. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand, your breathing hitched catching in your throat.

Hotch studied your expression carefully, his thumb brushing against your lip in a tender gesture. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

The air in the room thickened, and you felt the weight of the moment settle around you. Your heart raced as you considered his question, the possibilities stretching out before you like an open road. His genuine desire to ensure your comfort made you feel cherished and ready to explore with him.

“I want to kiss you,” you breathed, your heart fluttering at the admission. It felt like a small step, but in the grand scheme of the evening, it was monumental and a step in the right direction.

Hotch’s lips curved into a warm smile, leaning in closer, closing the distance between you. “Then let’s start there,” he said softly, his breath brushing against your lips.

With that, he captured your lips with his, the kiss was soft and tentative at first, you were both savoring the moment, knowing that the feelings you felt now never could be repeated. There was a sweetness to it, a promise that he would take care of you. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. You melted into him, the warmth of his body igniting something within you.

As you pulled away slightly, breathless, Hotch rested his forehead against yours, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you whispered. “Really good.”

“Good,” he echoed, the tension in the air shifting from nerves to excitement. “Then let’s keep going. Just remember what I said.” He placed his lips back on yours.

Hotch's hands moved to the hem of your shirt, waiting for your approval before gently lifting it over your head, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

The kiss deepened, and time seemed to lose its meaning as you melted into each other. Your fingers moved to the buckle of his belt, carefully opening it, not sure if you were moving too fast or not.

Hotch pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours, a silent question hanging between you. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I want this,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. The sincerity in your tone matched the pounding of your heart, and with that admission, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you.

Hotch’s expression softened, and a small, proud smile graced his lips. “Okay,” he replied. He leaned back in to kiss you, deepening the connection between you. The kiss felt electric, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that ignited every nerve ending in your body.

You sank onto the bed, and he followed, hovering over you. The way he looked at you made your heart swell — his eyes darkened with desire, yet they remained soft, filled with love and adoration for you. It was a potent combination that only heightened the electricity in the air between you.

Hotch leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “If at any point you want to stop, just say the word. I promise we can take as much time as you need.” His voice was a deep murmur.

“Okay,” you breathed, your pulse racing. You felt a thrill at the thought of surrendering to this moment, to him.

As he kissed down your neck, the warmth of his lips igniting your skin with every kiss, you let out a soft sigh, arching your back into his touch. Hotch’s hands explored your sides, trailing along your curves, sparks of pleasure shooting through you with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours, seeking permission to ignite the next step.

“Please,” you whined, the word escaping your lips almost breathlessly, an invitation laced with longing.

With that, he pressed his body closer, carefully sliding into you. You furrowed your brows at the foreign feeling. Hotch stilled as he was halfway in, waiting for you to adjust to him. He rested his forehead against yours, slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside. You watched the veins in his arms flex with every movement.

“Just breathe,” he murmured, his breath felt hot against your skin. He was attuned to your every reaction, a gentle guide navigating this uncharted territory with you. You felt as if you were floating, swept up in the tides of your emotions, every heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Hotch’s movements were measured, each one deliberate and filled with intent. The way he studied your expressions, responding to your every sigh and shift, made you feel seen in a way that you had never felt before. He was a master of the delicate dance you were dancing, guiding you through the peaks and valleys of pleasure with a sensitivity that left you breathless.

As the warmth of the moment began to settle around you, you lay wrapped in Hotch’s arms, the soft glow of the bedside lamps illuminating the room.

You could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head, a steady and calming presence that made you feel safe. Hotch shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice was laced with genuine concern as he tilted your chin to meet his gaze.

You nodded, a small smile breaking across your lips. “I’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice was barely a whisper, yet it was filled with genuine sincerity. “That was… incredible.” You closed your eyes, exhaling as you relaxed into his arms.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I wanted it to be special for you.”

As you nestled deeper into his embrace, you couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that had brought you to this moment. The playful banter, the stolen glances, the kisses in the copy room, everything that had led to this exact moment with the man you loved.

“I was nervous,” you admitted. The admission felt both freeing and slightly vulnerable, but you knew that honesty had and would always be essential between you. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

Hotch nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I was too. It’s a big step to take.” His voice was filled with reassurance. “I hope you know that you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “I do know that,” you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. “And I really appreciate it.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, wishing you could stay like this forever.

He smiled back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the minutes turned into an hour, you both remained entwined, sharing quiet stories and laughter, your hearts beating in tune with each other.

Eventually, as the night deepened and the stars twinkled outside the window, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes as you nestled closer, feeling his arm tighten around your frame. “I’m really glad we did this,” you murmured your voice was thick with sleepiness.

“Me too,” he replied as your breathing evened out. Hotch pressed another kiss to the top of your head.

He smiled at your sleeping form, knowing that he wanted to stay like this forever. To stay with you forever.

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