#Need to get me a man like Tangerine
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strawberrysnscreams · 5 months ago
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I am such a SLUT for Tangerine, the only baby I'll ever want to carry is his 😭🙇‍♀️
BRING MY MAN BACK
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queers-gambit · 1 year ago
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Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs
prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 3.7k+
note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?
warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.
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Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.
You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"
"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.
"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.
"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."
"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.
God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.
You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.
Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.
However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.
And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.
You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.
Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.
Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.
After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"
After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.
"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.
"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"
You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.
"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.
"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."
You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."
He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."
You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"
"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.
You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."
"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."
"Judging me now?"
Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."
"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."
"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"
"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."
You folded.
Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?
You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.
"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.
Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.
He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.
Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"
"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"
"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."
You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"
He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.
"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."
"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.
You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"
He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.
"Ah, so can't reveal the government."
"Exactly."
"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"
"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"
You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"
He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.
He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.
"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.
A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.
"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."
You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."
"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "
"Isn't that the point?"
He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.
But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.
One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.
"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.
"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."
You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."
You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."
He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"
"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.
"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.
You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.
"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.
"Oh, Jesus fuck!"
He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"
"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."
This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."
"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.
"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"
"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.
"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."
"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."
"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.
You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"
The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.
"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"
"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"
"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.
"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"
"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"
"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."
"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.
He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."
You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."
"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"
"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"
"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."
"I wasn't planning on it?"
"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."
You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"
"A bit."
You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.
"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."
You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"
He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"
"I don't even know you."
"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.
"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.
"You still owe me for those," you pointed.
"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."
You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."
To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."
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[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]
requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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obae-me · 10 months ago
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Would He Peel The Orange?
(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it) So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them. It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them. So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.
Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.
"Could you peel an orange for me?"
Lucifer
To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.
Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know
However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.
Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.
He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.
If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."
He wins this one. He peeled the orange.
But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...
7/10
Mammon
"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."
He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.
And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.
And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.
Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.
Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.
But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.
And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.
Is...this a peach?
9/10
Levi
If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.
And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.
However!
If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.
BUT
If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.
You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?
If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!
In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...
5/10
Satan
Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.
Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?
He doesn't get it. He means well though.
He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.
Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?
He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.
But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.
If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.
Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.
8/10
Asmo
No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.
And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.
BUT
If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.
Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.
And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~
Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.
6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.
Beel
I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.
Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.
But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...
It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.
He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.
One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...
It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.
I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.
--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.
So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!
10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.
Belphie
Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.
Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.
He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.
If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.
But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.
So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.
Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.
3/10
Diavolo
You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.
He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?
How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.
Break the skin? What, like an egg?
Well...there goes your orange.
On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.
But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!
Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.
Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!
It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!
11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.
Barbatos
An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?
Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.
Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.
Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.
He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.
You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.
So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.
Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."
12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.
Simeon
Are you kidding me?
This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.
You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.
Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.
This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.
Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.
He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.
This man is a real one.
100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.
Solomon
Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?
If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.
Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...
Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.
You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.
But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.
Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!
You kind of... tempt fate with this one.
2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.
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kithtaehyung · 4 months ago
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lollipop (3tan) (m) | myg
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title: lollipop (m) | part one: summer bbq pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after the summer cookout ends, you say goodnight to your brother and his best friend. but the latter just had to have a lollipop in his mouth… and had to make you aware of it hours later.  note: this is part two of the three tangerines drabble summer bbq! undisclosed whether these are in the main storyline or not, so it’s a standalone for now. note 2: also..... hope y'all read this in private :))) hahahah  warnings: yoongi is the biggest warning, but reader almost inches him out here🤭, no joke we may need to form a new line for reader, kissing, hella kissing, a mirror makes an appearance.. 🫣, tense situations, tender moments, lollipop gets its own warning i’m so serious, cocky yoongi lolll explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: july 22nd, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 7.3k💀💀💀
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explicit warnings: food play (just roll with it😂), oral sex (m/f rec), masturbation, the struggle to keep quiet is real, mirrors are involved lord have mercy, spanking, breast play, multiple orgasms, yoongi hands, choking, fingering, face f*cking, titty shotsss, a little bit of manhandling and roughness but we love it🤭🤭, aftercare and cute cute reader afterwards
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It’s not long until you’re snuggled under your covers, every limb in your body relieved to be at rest. From getting ready, cooking for hours, to general host duties—all while trying to avoid sin in human form—you’ve completely exhausted your living battery. 
But for some reason, sleepiness is out of reach. 
Tiredness? For sure. But sleep seems to elude you, and you toss and turn before giving up and turning your television on. 
It’s after you get through two episodes of something random and endless doomscrolling that you get a text. 
From the last person that should be texting you right now.
And your heart slams on every brake it has.
Yoongi [2:37am]: You up?  
Umm.
What.
Why is he asking you that? It’s quite possibly the worst time and type of message to receive right now. 
Don’t overthink it. He probably just needs extra hands to drag your brother back to his room again.
You [2:37am]: mmhmm 
You [2:37am]: you need me for something?
With a sigh, you rest your phone by your side.
The last time that happened was so long ago. Back when you were fighting off sickness and absentmindedly grabbing tangerines to snack on.
You wonder what that man wants this time around.
Yoongi [2:37am]: Haha nah
Yoongi [2:37am]: Just curious
Well that’s interesting.
Is he still in the backyard? Somewhere in the house? You knew he was staying over, but is he in the guest room with Jimin lying down like you are?
Why is that making your soul squeeze? 
You [2:38am]: yeah i am. can’t sleep :\
After hitting send, you feel more awake than ever, staring at your ceiling changing hues from the light of your tv. 
It kinda hurts knowing Yoongi’s the closest he could be tonight. 
On one hand, you still remain feeling safer than ever, having all of them here. But on the other, you’d much rather Yoongi be right next to you, heart beating under the same covers and eyes covering you in moonlight.
He’s so close and yet… 
So damn far. 
Yoongi [2:39am]: Same. 
Your arm slings right over your eyes.
How is one word from him enough to make your legs shift? That is something that needs to be studied, but alas, you would only be the subject if someone paid you for it.
What do you say now? You miss him so much it practically hurts? You want him to be lying next to you even though it’s the riskiest thing in the world?
Maybe start slow.
You [2:40am]: did you have fun today? 
Shit, was that a little too slow? Abnormal? It’s not like you two have as much small talk as other people. Though you wouldn’t mind any type of talking with him at all, casual small talk just isn’t on the list of defaults.
When you check the next text you get, it’s hard to keep your phone from falling onto your face.
Yoongi [2:42am]: I’ll tell you if you open the door :)
Huh.
So much for starting slow what the fuck! 
You [2:43am]: ???
You [2:43am]: front door? 
Yoongi [2:43am]: Yours
There have been many times in which this man has made you speechless. Some just for being so heartstoppingly handsome; others for being the most considerate person you’ve ever met.
But this time?
You can’t even form all the reasons why you can’t form words.
You [2:44am]: ?????
Yoongi [2:44am]: 🤨
Yoongi [2:44am]: Feel like this is pretty easy stuff, doll 
What is happening? What possessed your brother’s legitimate ride or die to stand at your door while still in the same house? When other people are also staying over?
You’re so close. He’s right there. You can see a slight shadow underneath the wooden frame and it’s making your stomach silly.
But you have to be sure.
You [2:45am]: is he asleep? 
Yoongi [2:45am]: Yeah he’s out 
Getting up, you already miss the warmth of your sheets as you tiptoe towards the only thing separating you from the man you’ve yearned for all day long.
Fuck. If this isn’t the worst decision you’re ever gonna make in your life.
But damn it, you already knew you were gonna let him in as soon as he asked.
After checking what you’re wearing before knowing it doesn’t matter, you open your door while fearing what it reveals. 
And Yoongi slowly enters through the night—freshly showered, still studded with jewelry, and decked in clean clothes while dirtying your mind to hell.
Because of the goddamn lollipop in his mouth.
“What’s going on,” you whisper, knowing your brother could wake up at any second. Maybe. Possibly. Everything bad is always possible when you’re paranoid about it—especially since Yoongi is in your room! “What are you doing?”
Your secret wastes no time as he quietly shuts and locks the door, hair shifting down his head in damp waves as he takes out the sucker,
“This.”
Silent, he pulls you in slow for a kiss, melting you down with ease. When he presses you into one of your walls, you know the only thing propping you up is his pelvis molding with your front. 
Already, your senses are on high alert, wondering how long Yoongi plans on staying because as much as you want him here forever, you still want him in one piece. 
But it’s getting hard to concentrate on consequences and scenarios when this man is infiltrating your every thought. His lips feel like summer and his fragrance reminds you of spring, and you immediately know it’s that subtly scented body wash you picked to put in the guest bathroom. 
Strange. You both have now used each others’ soap and showers. That has to mean something intimate, right? How many people can say that about one another and not look into it too much?
Well, he technically hasn’t used the shower in your bathr—
“You looked great today,” Yoongi whispers into your neck. 
His kiss there renders you speechless for what seems like eons. Today. Uh huh. What were you thinking just now? “Thank you,” you finally sigh, relishing in the way he’s holding your side. “So did you.” 
“Thanks.” 
“I mean.. You always do, so. Nothing new there.”
Yoongi quietly huffs a laugh before tugging your hips. But he doesn’t say anything in return, and you wonder if he didn’t have an answer or just didn’t feel the need to. 
So your nerves fill the space again. “Is it weird that I missed you? You were here the whole time.” 
“Mm.” His kisses traverse up your shivering throat, and his raspy answer has your eyes fluttering shut, “I get that.”
Fuck, you can’t deal with him. “Is.. Is that so..”
“People miss me all the time.”
A snort. “Ass.”
Yoongi immediately laughs into your skin. “But they aren’t here now, are they?” When you don’t respond with anything substantial, he squeezes the side of your ass. “Are they.”
“No,” you hitch out. “But you shouldn’t be here, either.”
“Tell me to leave then.”
Shit. You can’t. You both know you can’t. You try so hard to stifle a moan when you feel Yoongi grip an asscheek, his lips finding your ear at the same time he gives a firm smack.
“Do it, doll.”
“I…” Fuck, he’s surrounding you and there’s no way no way out. “I can’t.”
“Good.” Yoongi then slides your hand from his side down to his legs, placing it on his very big, very hard length. “Cus I can’t fucking stay away from you.” 
You grip him through his pants, pleased when he moans deep. “What if he wakes up?”
“He won’t,” your handsome rebel purrs. “Drank for hours.”
“You sure?”
“Course I am.” Yoongi slides a finger along the outline of your breasts. “He tried to keep up and lost.”
“Typical.” 
He keeps doing exactly what you want him to do. It’s quite scary how well he knows your body now, but you’d also like to think you have a good level of knowledge with his.
Especially when you reach up to twist his nipple. 
A groan mixed with dark chuckles has your knees shaking, and you prolong it by doing something else you know—or think you know—he likes,
“I think you’d like it if I kicked you out now.”
The volcano inside Yoongi rumbles. “Is that so?”
“It is,” you huff out in mock triumph, loving how his cock twitches against your hand. “Or am I wrong?”
He flicks his eyes to yours before holding a gaze. A look so telling, and full, and searing. When his mouth flicks upward, he admits,
“I’d love it.”
Laughing as softly as you can, you stop to simply hug him. Leaning forward until your head rests, feeling the most at home and happy hearing his own amusement vibrating through his clothes. 
And just like that, you’re conflicted. 
What the hell are you doing? Even though passed out and sloshed, your brother could still wake up. It’s not like he’s totally gone. And if he catches his best friend in your room? There’s no telling what damage could be dealt.
Actually, the damage could be told in gruesome detail.
But the way Yoongi’s filling the distance from today, you really don’t want to stop. In fact, you don’t even want to pretend to shoo him off.
So this is your first step onto a precarious, unpredictable tightrope. A step you are very okay taking. 
“Babe?”
Shit, you got lost again. When you find your way back, Yoongi’s concern materializes at once,
“If you really aren’t down—”
“Fuck it.” 
Your kiss digs into his face so hard you strike gold, rewarded with a growl so potent it disrupts your core. Lightning zaps through your veins at the hands squeezing your hips, and you buck with a desperation that’s been stockpiling all day long.
Sliding along the wall, you notice that Yoongi tastes like alcohol and sugar, and you wanna lick every crevice you can reach, drunk off his cockiness and audacity alone. 
It’s no use fighting this. He’s really in your room, making out with you like a demon while the house is filled with your brother’s sleeping friends.
Fuck, you two could really get caught here.
The swirl in your belly keeps you on your toes, transforming your movements into sharp, hasty tugs on his clothes, hemlines, hair. You’re practically acting like you’ve never had him before and want to make up for all those missed opportunities.
Not like it’s any different every time.
But you’re quelled by a calm hand on your wrist. “As much as I like you like this,” Yoongi whispers across your cheek, “You can’t be too loud, baby girl.”
Your silent question must’ve escaped past your teeth. Because you hear a deep chuckle before shivers run down your spine,
“If you aren’t quiet enough I’m gonna fix that.”
Oh. Fuck.
“I didn’t even know I was talking,” you admit, body creasing in embarrassment and a bit of nervous laughs. Your grin cannot be contained by the fingers you slide up to cover it. “Oh, my god.” 
“What?” Yoongi’s devilish look is even more potent in the flashing lights of your television. “You serious?”
When you scrunch in deeper admittance, he flashes teeth with a wider smile than yours. It’s a prelude to the way he launches your heartbeat, his scent mesmerizing and his fingers lethal on the back of your neck. 
“Adorable.”
You groan into his swooping kiss, the rush of a thousand rivers carrying you to bliss. Breaths intertwined, the pair of you can’t seem to part until Yoongi accidentally shoulders something at his side.
Your mirror? When did you both travel so far that you got here? 
He lets off with a pop to steady the wavering furniture piece, pausing to make sure it’s stable before looking at the movie playing nearby.
And you watch in curiosity as he backs further into your room, eyeing himself in the mirror while slotting the sucker back into his mouth.
God. How did you forget he was still holding that?
And why can’t you move even as he turns around, even as he glances at the tv, even as he sits on the edge of your bed?
Move. Walk. Do something!
In the end, you can’t.
Because Yoongi’s stare alone gives you first time jitters, like you’ve never even conversed or much less slept with him before. 
How the fuck are you gonna get through the night? 
Swallowing and shooting one more look at your door, you pad your way to him, knowing he sees your nipples poking through your shirt and assuming there’s not much else you’re wearing. 
And he’s right. 
As you stop at Yoongi’s knees, you watch as he gives the lollipop another slow suck, groaning at the red smeared across his tainted lips.
That’s it. It’s decided. There’s no way you’re making it out alive.
“Get up here.”
Obliging but unhurried, you mount his lap, your heart skipping at the way he enjoys your shirt riding up your thighs.
So that damn sucker is gonna stay in his mouth? 
Min Yoongi is your enemy tonight.
Your nemesis, in fact. Even if he slides both free hands up your ass like that fuck he squeezes so expertly. Fuck. 
It’s keeping everything in you to hide your moan, your head falling forward as he slightly lifts you to drop you onto his comfy sweats.
When he chuckles in your ear, your muscles lock. And when he pops the lolly out of his mouth, you crumble at his mercy. “You were lucky to be off-limits today, doll.” 
“What…” You tense at another grip to your ass. “What do you mean.”
As you eye the silver around his neck, Yoongi’s smirk pours weight on your legs. “If you weren’t? There’s no telling what I would’ve done.”
You don’t think you’ve ever gulped so deeply. What toe-curling secrets is he hiding? Today could have gone a much, much different route depending on what he’d spill. “Tell… Tell me anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
The man below you huffs quick, and you watch the corner of his mouth lift at a dangerous angle. “Would’ve kept you in that bathroom,” he divulges, voice dragging across the rattled surface of your brain. “Bent you over the sink.”  
Your breath hitches when he gets close, lips caressing your ear but words striking through your chest, “Just so you could watch me fuck you in that sundress.” 
“Fuck.”
“Uh uh,” Yoongi coos, chuckle so, so deep. “Quiet, baby girl.”
“I just…” It’s already hard to think around this demon of a person. But it’s even more difficult when he’s got your ear in his teeth. “Wait.” 
As he pulls away, the light of your television highlights his features. And you find that this specific, comforting look of attentiveness is what attracts you the most. 
Now that you can think clearly, you remember exactly what you were gonna do. It’s simple but significant nonetheless. 
Because your dress from today is in the laundry already. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have another one. Another very particular one he may remember, in fact. 
“Go over there,” you whisper, smile wide as you dismount. “Turn around.” 
When he wordlessly asks what you’re up to, a single finger presses against your lips before you assure, “Just trust me.” 
The way his brows scrunch makes your cheeks hurt as you watch him get up and swivel, endeared by the casual lean on your wall and the lollipop stuck in his cheek. Just as his head falls in waiting, you slip into your closet, darkness getting even darker as you enter.
Due to an afterthought, you pop your head out. “No peeking in the mirror.”
“Uh huh.”
Satisfied, you go back to your lightless search. 
You know exactly what you’re going for. It’s too easy for you to locate your chosen piece of clothing before stripping and changing as orderly as you can. 
Okay. This is okay because you’re alone, right? No one else is here. Technically. Okay.
As you make your way out, a million nerves pop and fizzle under moonlight. The air surrounding your bare shoulders proves charged. Electric enough to send shivers down to your pedicured toes.
Composing yourself before you break, you softly catch his attention as you eye the sucker poised in his fingers,
“Ready.”
The moon waits.
Your breath follows.
And when Yoongi turns, you know you’ll never forget this moment. It feels exactly like the time in that restaurant long ago, but more potent. Shimmering. 
Because you’re wearing the same sundress he witnessed you in on the night of Dom’s party. 
And you’ve never been so delighted to see the stars in his eyes go dark.
You expect him to call you over. Whether with words or not, you’re gonna do whatever he wants—because it’s what you want… too…
Yoongi’s aura billows as he closes the distance himself. No words. No gestures. Just step by breath-taking step, air around him so charged and commanding that your knees threaten to buckle. 
For reasons you won’t admit, your mouth can’t even create sounds. All you want to ask is if he likes the dress, or if he even cares you aren’t as dressed up as before. 
Of course he wouldn’t give a single shit. But you can’t stop yourself from these thoughts just yet. 
Swallowing, you stare as he rolls the sucker in his mouth, eyes in no other direction but yours. “You, umm. Does this one work instead? The other one is in the—”
Quick isn’t fast enough to describe what’s happening, your shoulders pressing into the nearest wall as your lips get consumed by lust and possession. Everything in your body tingles, and for a split second you wonder how Yoongi managed to swing you around so swift with barely a sound. 
Stars fly from your eyes before they slip shut, pouring want onto his veins as he circles strong arms across your waist. Sparks erupt the scant distance between your hips and his, and you are once again reminded why you feel so high-strung. 
There are so many people staying over. Not just Yoongi and Jimin. From what you can recall, at least ten people are passed out around the house, any of which could wake up for a bathroom break or something at any second. 
And yet. You will not tell this man to leave. Truthfully, this is exhilarating and all you’re doing is ki—
“Get down there.”
Oh, fuck. 
This is the new point of no return. 
If you do this, not only will Yoongi be a goner, but so will you. Both of you would never, ever come back from this. 
But that fucking lollipop…
Screw everything to hell.
Your smile grows with his, lip bitten in the throes of your newfound excitement. You already feel how rock solid he is through his pants, and you make it a point to stroke him on the way to the ground. 
There’s so little room that your ass skims the wall, your chest the second part to slide along his covered length and causing him to groan out a curse. 
Is there a shift here? Did you change the whole dynamic with one move? Maybe you’re the one with the power now. 
“Look at me.”
Ah. Maybe not.
Obedient, you stare upward, catching the fire in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives the sucker one more pass in his mouth. 
God, he makes it look so enticing. It’s just a piece of candy but you’ve never been this desperate to have one, too. Or be the one treated with his tongue like that goddamn does he have to make it seem so erotic?
With a pop, Yoongi releases the stick, lips shiny and tainted in the television lights. When he lowers it, you realize it’s descending—farther and farther—until it stops in front of your face. 
And shivers overtake you.
“Suck.” 
Well. You’ve never done something like this before. In all the relationships you’ve been in, you have never experienced anything like this. Much less in your own house. 
Which makes your eyes flare and the monster in your belly rumble, fire hissing from its nose and prying your mouth open to do exactly what you were told. 
“That’s my girl.”
Sugar coats your tongue immediately. Glowing, the heat in your core stokes embers, warning with each loll, each cave of your cheeks. You treat the candy so tenderly Yoongi will deny jealousy, and your lips pucker and puff with a sheen. 
Are you glistening as much as his eyes? Are you causing him as much grief as he has put you through?
You damn well hope so. Yoongi isn’t the only one that’s gonna unleash his needs from the whole day. 
So you keep sucking with closed eyes, swirling your tongue around the lolly and licking it just how you would his tip. It tastes like sweet rebellion, but also late nights with your friends. And with a fleeting thought, you know said friends would grill you if they ever found out this was happening.
Maybe Tae would just laugh his ass off. 
Fuck, this is so unbelievably risky. Your door is locked, sure. But the guest room is still very much missing an occupant and one look in there and at Yoongi’s car in the street would cause an eruption.
Through the haze of your thoughts, you hear shuffling and a low droning grunt. 
With one glance, you know Yoongi is crumbling. The shadowed promises under his bangs make you preen, and you remain on the precipice of anxiousness and glee.
“Keep that tongue out for me.”
Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about risk.
So gladly, you oblige, flinching when the lollipop is replaced by something you’re much more familiar with, and your eyes bat on instinct as you know exactly what to do with this one.
When did he shove his pants down? Were you that lost in your sticky treat that you didn’t even notice? 
Doesn’t matter. You feel his beautiful weight on your stained tongue and it’s second nature to pleasure. When you grab hold of his base, you give one more suck before popping him out of your mouth to lick down.
For someone that’s been shushing you, Yoongi’s groan is not quiet, and you pause just in time to see him grit his teeth with a nose scrunched to hell.
And his attention is sideways. What is he…
Oh. Fuck.
You can see yourself in your mirror on the other wall. 
Is that… you? The one looking back with a visage so arousing your breath stops? If this is the person that Yoongi brings out you actually feel your confidence inflate like a parade balloon.
“So fucking hot.”
When you laugh in shyness, his eyes slide shut in agony as he rakes through his hair. Crumbling inside, you offer a compliment of your own, 
“You’re so unfair when you do that.” 
Yoongi has the audacity to grin wide as he grips his long strands. “This?” 
“Ugh. Whatever.” You wanna smack that smirk right off his face.
So you keep going, loving the way his walls and defenses are back to shattering at your knees. From your inappropriate level of experience with his cock, you go for what you know. Licking his underside, swirling around the tip, sucking just the first bit, gathering spit all over before taking him in deep. 
The smells around you coalesce into something potent. With the fruitiness of the lolly and the headiness of Yoongi, it’s pure bliss in your nostrils and you soak it all in. There’s no pause in your sucking, licking, tugging him rough. You’re giving it your all and feeling the effects between your legs. 
Suddenly. 
Huffs litter around your sundress as Yoongi yanks himself out, sticking the sucker in your mouth again while holding your head. And his smile puts devils to shame when he scoffs, “Unfair, my ass.”
You giggle, sliding the pop up and down your outstretched tongue before slowly pushing it in. When you watch one of his veiny hands grip his cock, your brain resets and rewires, prompting you to be a little bit more daring.
As if this whole situation wasn’t daring enough.
You coyly slide one of your sundress straps down your arm, slowly revealing the top of a breast before going for the other side. Not enough to show everything. But enough to give him a much better view from above. 
And the sound you hear in response causes pulses between your legs,
“What the fuck.”
Satisfied, you ride this high of praise and keep diligently sucking on the lolly, watching him pump himself until you can’t can’t can’t take it anymore.
It all happens in quick succession, your hand outright slapping the lollipop out of his hand before grabbing for him, shaky fingers knocking into his slick ones before slipping his dick in your mouth.
“Shit—”
His scent captures your nostrils as he bucks forward, knocking your throat and causing your gag to hit the wall. When you keep sucking, Yoongi grabs your chin, chains swaying as he rocks in, out, in, out again.
Drool and spit cover your neck, seeping onto his fingers as he keeps them where he wants. Imagining how you look in the mirror makes you moan, and imagining Yoongi watching everything from his view makes your cunt leak onto your thighs. 
Fuck you wanna watch, too. What does that say about you? You’re legitimately jealous that you can’t see yourself taking Yoongi so deep he’s cursing in strings. 
When you choke, it’s disgustingly loud, so he has to pull out once again just to command, “Quiet.”
“Ye—” 
He’s shoved back in before you can finish one syllable, back out after a single suck before he drives his point home, “Understand?” 
“Y—”
Your words are pushed down your throat again, the intensity Yoongi’s exuding rolling your eyes back and shaking your muscles. Spent and unable to speak, you nod around him, and your arms are suddenly gathered against the wall until you’re fully flushed, held up by one of his strong hands.
“Good girl.”
You brace yourself for his complete control, dick sliding down your throat and pushing tears out of your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you keep your tongue flat, taking him in until your full body gag alerts him to pull out. 
As soon as he does, you buckle straight towards the mirror, eyes bursting with shock as you drink in the man watching your heaving, shimmering chest.
“This is what you do to me, doll.” When you shift your attention upward, you gulp at his smile of pride. “Can you stand?” 
“I…” Holy shit, he fucked the voice right out of you. “I think so.” 
“Here.” 
You place your hand in his, muscles in your legs stinging at the change in position. When you go slow, Yoongi lets you, and your lips curve tenderly at the way he kisses you at your peak. 
“You almost made me come,” he whispers, chuckling when you watch his eyes. “Fuckin’ hustler.” 
“You didn’t want to?” 
“Not yet.” Winking, Yoongi gives you another peck before getting close. 
As you look in the mirror, you catch the way he kisses along your neck, his hair tickling your skin and his arms bent as he holds yours. It’s almost enough to make you feel higher than royalty, now knowing what it looks like to be feasted on by a king.
“Promise me something,” he rasps. 
“Anything,” you whisper in confidence.
“It’s your turn now.” Another kiss to your ear makes you flinch. “But if you’re too loud that’s all you get.” 
Bold statement coming from the guy that couldn’t stay silent. But you’re far too gone to dwell on the past so all you can do is nod in understanding. You need this. After today? You really fucking need this.
Yoongi tucks himself back in his sweats before kissing your neck again, lips leaving a trail along the tracks left by your own actions. When he gets to your chest, he gets to unwrap another treat, slowly peeling your dress down to suck on a nipple. 
You almost cut the whole thing short. 
A hand flies up over your mouth, and you watch your face twist in anguish in the glass. Sparks tingle from where Yoongi slides his tongue, and seeing this man in action from another viewpoint launches you across the edge instead of right to it. 
You’re gonna get yourself caught. There’s no way you aren’t crying out by the time he’s done but goddamn you’ve got to keep it toge—
Deft fingers rub your other nipple, causing your body to jump forward and Yoongi to chuckle into your chest. After he squeezes, you watch as he pops off your tit. “What’d I say.” 
This is the hardest thing you’ve ever done! 
You can only shake your head, hand still preventing your mouth to move and your throat stinging from suppressed screams. 
“That’s what I thought,” Yoongi quips before kissing the rest of your dress downward. 
And the fucker didn’t even look back at the mirror. Like he already knows exactly what he looks like or doesn’t care in the slightest. All he’s focused on is you and you alone, and you’re so enamoured that you watch his head below you, too. 
Calmly and surely, Yoongi lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing along your skin and gripping you tight. When he lifts a brow upward, you nod downward, bracing yourself for him to notice something else you had planned to show.
Works like a sinful charm. His reaction could be felt better than seen. 
Because as soon as he notices that you don’t have any underwear on, Yoongi pours out dark amusement before giving your cunt the deepest kiss it’s ever felt.
A mewl smushes into your fingers as you cave, eyes shutting so tight as he eats you out like a man starved and never satiated. 
His licks hit just right, and the way he tongues you causes stars to pierce your eyes through. Over and over and over, Yoongi is merciless in how he pleasures, and your esophagus burns and burns and burns. 
Both your legs quake as he slips a finger under his tongue, and your eyes fly open just in time to see yourselves in the mirror again. 
Holy fuck.
You’ve always known this man was attractive. Overwhelmingly so, in fact. But seeing him on his knees and knowing it’s not a dream makes you so dizzy your brain can’t keep up. 
Yoongi’s hands flex on your skin with each minuscule grip, and his hair bunches as he moves between your legs. Your thigh covers his face, but maybe that’s for the best, because you don’t think you could handle watching his tongue while feeling it inside. 
“So fucking wet,” he hisses out before diving in again, and you use your other hand to grapple a chunk of his drying hair. “Fuck.”
Yes, keep going. He’s so close to making you come you squeeze even harder. By now, your whole upper body is burning with unreleased yells and your lower body is suffering just as much. He’s too good. Way too good for a quiet house.
You can’t hold it in. You can’t you can’t you can’t.
“Yoongi, please”—your legs start to twinge with want and pending release—“Gonna come, I—”
Everything snaps as soon as he reaches to grope your ass, tugging you forward to lick a spot that has you vibrating like mad. 
And your orgasm is so potent that your knees legitimately buckle, your body slipping with no purchase before you catch yourself on the wall. Waves hit you from all directions and you let out one yelp before you feel a moist hand clamp over your lips.
Oh, he’s standing now. Oh, he’s fingering you. Oh fuck, he’s talking you through your orgasm and you can’t understand him but your body reacts either way. 
“—another one for me.”
Your pulses wreck your body into angles, each one shifting into another as your mouth is still covered. Yoongi’s fingers prove fatal as he leads you into a second paradise, and you cry into his hand as you come into his other—harder, stronger. 
“Just like that, doll, fuck.”
Tears stream down your cheeks again as you lift, soaring into the summer skies and leaping over sleeping souls. It’s too much to keep inside. Too powerful to not let out all at once. 
“—this fucking dress.”
You don’t know what’s being said. Nor do you care. Your body is so spent from the vicious tempest and all the energy leaves you at once. 
“Uh uh.”
What. 
“One more for me,” Yoongi goads. “And you’re gonna watch this time.” 
Your chest beats and beats as his fingers pump slow, and your head lolls to the side as you catch sight of your salacious act in the mirror. 
Immediately, you know exactly why he said that. Watching the way his arms bulge with effort is encouragement enough to stay upright. With each thrust, you can see your dress hitching with your arches, and Yoongi dives into your neck to strike lightning. 
“Baby—” You feel it. You feel a third wave incoming and its crest seems higher than the rest. 
“Come for me,” he whispers, his dark bangs peeking from behind your neck in the mirror and his throat stretching out. “And don’t fucking scream.” 
Fuck! Your hand grips your mouth so bad it will leave soreness. But water pulls you under and twists you like a ragdoll. Unlike the other times, this orgasm quivers your legs to the point where Yoongi teases. And he can’t stop praising you for being naughty, for letting him in here, for letting him destroy you while everyone’s here.
“I love it,” you whoosh out into his throat, voice cracked and chipped. “Fuck, I love it.” 
“I know you do.” Another deep set of laughs. “You’re a problem.”
Head lolling forward, you slowly slip right into Yoongi’s arms before he helps you stand. “Come on,” he leads, walking you a short distance to your bed before chuckling at your cartoonish collapse.
Some moments pass. One, two, four or five more. Even the room seems to swim a little in your vision when you struggle to open your eyes. 
Finally, after breathing hard, you can only manage a gravelly, “Holy shit.” 
Yoongi laughs soft before wiping your forehead. “You okay?” 
“Yeah,” you exhale, chest heaving and heaving. “I’ll be good.” 
Fingers still wisping across your face, he praises, “So beautiful.” 
You finally calm your pulse before you slide your hand over his cock. “Did you come?” 
“Nah.” 
Looks like you aren’t done. “Mm,” you whisper, trying your best to prop yourself up. “Lie down for me.” 
“You sure?” 
You nod with heavy eyes, and he slowly occupies your bed while you caress him again. So smooth and so tender before squeezing just right. 
It’s already almost enough because Yoongi throws his head onto your pillow. “Goddamn.”
When you slip his sweats down, you use willpower alone to consume him again. You will not rest until he’s fully content, too. With this in mind, your cheeks and jaw work overtime. 
You want this, want this, want this. He gave you the world and then some, you can run on fumes to make him a mess. After all, you’re drunk off the pleasurable cocktail he just concocted with his tongue. This will carry you despite your functioning levels in the trenches. 
“Babe—”
For a split second, you forget where you are. Your eyelids droop so low and your body twinges with aftershocks as you spit right onto his cock, sliding your lips along his pretty length before you feel him tug your sheets.
“Shit.”
He’s close. He doesn’t even have to tell you. You can tell by the way his body reacts and bends and folds, and you quickly decide what that means for you.
Because you could swallow. 
But you instead make your way to the floor, commanding him before realizing just how authoritative and raspy you sound, 
“Sit up.”
Right as he does, you pump him right above your exposed chest, shocking him so abruptly his low groan shakes your core,
“Oh, fuck—”
Hot, thick spurts land all over you, his release your only focus and not the pain in your knees from hitting the floor in round two. As his head rolls back, you watch with heightened pride, loving the way he looks lost in delicious, honeyed ecstasy.
And just like that, both of you are satisfied. Both of you got what you needed and wanted from this… hot summer… day…
There was a sound outside your door, further down the hall but fucking close enough. 
And holy shit his cum is on your tits.
Holy shit holy shit this is the absolute last thing you should’ve let him do what the fuck what the fuck! 
If anyone sees you like this you are both finished. Cooked. Banished.
You glance at the door, body locking and hands massive weights at your side. 
One second. 
Two seconds. 
You’re fully awake now. 
Four seconds. 
Nothing else happens. Your ears strain wildly but you don’t hear any noises in succession, and you wonder if it was just a snore or something similar. 
Sighing, you breathe out relief before peering straight up.
And the look you get in return is pure, primal hunger. 
Yoongi’s never looked like this. Maybe he’s come close that one time before, but this is much different. 
What is this? His pupils are magnified and his lids are lowered in fire, stoking the heat within you and clutching your cunt with his eyes alone. You’re so wet that you can come again if he so much as touched you. “Baby?” 
Yoongi simply grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “Just want this in my phone so fucking bad.” 
Oh. Well, fuck. 
You blink at his shamelessness. But it makes you so exhilarated and shy that you resort to your default—cracking jokes. Of all the things he could’ve mentioned like the sound outside or possibly getting caught and dragged to hell he decides he wants your pictures in his phone. Right.
“Happy you painted me like Picasso?” You laugh before you can even finish, but so does Yoongi as he throws his head back. 
Immediately, the atmosphere calms. “You heard that earlier?” 
“He’s an idiot.” 
“He is.” Yoongi helps you up and onto your bed before he asks, “Towels in your bathroom?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Under the sink.”
You watch as he goes to fetch them, heart pulsing extra hard at his consideration. When he bustles around in a room you use everyday, it’s surreal to witness. Both unnatural, but so natural at the same time. 
He’s careful not to make loud sounds, gently closing your cabinets and coming back with a cloth he ran under water.
A sudden pang hits your chest and you have no clue why.
Is it because you’ll never see him in there again? Or is it because of the conversation you just brought up? 
Maybe both. The convo from earlier today still rings in your ears, everyone hounding Yoongi about the scratches you left on his back. They were old but still very visible. You need to be more mindful of what you can and can’t do right now. 
As Yoongi wipes your shivering chest, you ask something that’s been weighing on your mind, “Did I get you in even more trouble?” 
He just looks at you before finishing his cooling task, raising straps back onto your shoulders. “Course you did.” 
Ah. He didn’t seem bothered, but your apology follows him as he goes to pick up the abandoned candy from earlier. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it at the time.” 
“S’ok. Hope you’re fine being some chick from outta town, though.” 
Your chuckle hurts your throat on the way out. Not from disappointment, but from the very man you’re talking to. “I can deal with that. Is she nasty?” 
It takes a bit for him to discard everything. When he comes back, he bends down to answer, 
“So fuckin’ nasty.” 
You giggle right into his kiss. Fully spent, your arms around his neck pull him in close, and his rough laugh makes your legs even weaker. “Can’t believe we just did all that.”
“Same.”
“Guess you like the dress, huh?”
A hand comes up to squeeze your thigh. “Dunno. Might have to see it again when the sun’s out.”
“Ass.”
“You get it.”
“Wow.” 
Yoongi hisses amusement, shifting to lay beside you across your bed. When he does, light from the window hits him just right, and you fall silent at once.
So perfect. So unfair.
“I think this is my favorite,” you admit, not giving him full context. So when he wordlessly asks for it, you reach up and caress his cheek. “When you look happy.”
“I am,” he says after a pause. “Cus of you.”
You feel starlight in your own eyes. “I’m happy, too.”
For this, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask for more context at all.
The lingering fear of being caught is still there, but it’s not as present now. Maybe it’s because you’re both content again, but you don’t feel too stressed. 
Did you want to get caught that whole time? Surely not when things were going down.
But what about now? If someone saw you lost in each others’ stars, would you care if they plucked you from the sky? 
Staring into this man’s eyes, you can’t bring yourself to say you would. 
“When will I see you again?” you blurt out of nowhere.
At this, Yoongi props his head up with an elbow. “When do you want to?”
“Tomorrow.”
His chest bobs with his laugh. “I’ll make sure to see you before I head out then.” 
You nod, eyes shutting when Yoongi goes in for another kiss. 
Another kiss is how you frame it. Because a final kiss is too painful to think about. 
Yoongi has to leave. You know he literally cannot stay.
But facts and logic don’t make this parting any easier, and your heart breaks when he slips out of your bed.
It’s too soon. Yes, it’s also way past the time he should be in your room, but it’s too fucking soon. 
Your chest burns. Sears make fiery ridges along your ribs until they overtake your heart, creeping closer and closer.
Until Yoongi bends to kiss you again, fingers slotting into yours and squeezing some liquid out of your eyes. 
But his rasp gives you pause, “I did, by the way.”
Blinking, you feel him swipe at oncoming tears when you ask, “You did what?”
“Have fun.”
Oh. Wait, he’s answering the text you sent? You already forgot about that. Ages ago. “Good,” you say with a slight ghost of a smile. “It looked like you were having a good time. And I.. Really liked seeing you laugh.”
Yoongi just stares, thoughts and emotions skimming across his eyes. When you reach up to cradle his cheek, they then slip shut, brows dipping as he presses into you further. “You were the reason,” he admits with no hesitation.
Don’t cry more. Not now.
He gives you one more hug, and you cradle his head into your skin. “Good night, baby,” you whisper so softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. 
When he does the same to yours, you wonder if his reaction was also reminiscent of tiny sparklers on a summer night. 
“Night, doll.” 
The steps he takes all stomp on your heart. 
But you find solace in the hopeful future. One where you can stand next to him at summer barbecues, or host them with him, or just simply be anywhere with him. 
But mostly, you’re yearning for a future where you don’t have to keep watching him leave through a door. 
But come back through one.
-
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fin. :)
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🍭so... how did it go!🍭 | join the server! | join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you to everyone that has stuck around while i took my huge rest! it was a little strange to not be here everyday talking to you all, but looking back, the resting and step back was needed. although it looks like some people left - whether the blog or in general - i am happy to see so many familiar and new people! let's keep having fun with the 3tanverse and beyond, yeah? a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! i'll be here to talk and scream with y'all whenever, and it should be more frequent now. also be on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months ago
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Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: You've always loved your boyfriend's tattoos but panic when he offers to have you choose his next one.
Genre: fluff, blurb
Warnings: mentions of needles and tattoos, swearing, relationship insecurities
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
More times than you'd admit, you'd stare at Tangerine's tattoos—just as you're doing now—your nails tracing the designs on his forearms as you sit in his lap, straddling him.
You know he has more, some that spread across the muscles of his back and down his sides.
You want to touch those too.
"Why don't ya choose my next one, luv?" Tangerine asks suddenly, his hand coming up to push some hair away from your forehead as he admires your expression. Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, turning to look at him seriously.
"What?! I could never," you say, snatching your hand away from his skin as if it burned you, though you keep your position in his lap.
Genuinely confused, your boyfriend twirls his hand in your hair. "And why's that?"
"Because tattoos are so permanent!" you exclaim, your cheeks burning warm. "You'll have that on your body forever."
"Mm, yes, that's the point, a forever reminder of my favorite girl."
You say no again, your tone ending the discussion, but Tangerine knows you better than that. He smoothes a hand down your hair once more. "Is this not forever for you?" he mutters, the question genuine. There is no hint of annoyance or malice in his tone.
You feel your stomach sink and instinctively, you shift closer to him. "What?! No!"
Tangerine smiles and leans his cheek against your head. "Then what's the problem?"
You feel guilty as you take your lip in your mouth and your chew. What is the problem? The question plays on a loop in your head as you try to come up with an answer that doesn't sound stupid and childish.
"I mean, Tan, this feels like forever because I love you more than I need air, but nothing is really forever, is it? What if you wake up one morning and you don't love me anymore, and then you have a reminder of me engraved on your body?"
You pick at your nails, your voice going so small it breaks your boyfriend's heart. "And you know I don't want tattoos—so if you have one from me everyone's gonna wonder why I don't have one from you and—"
Tangerine suddenly presses his index against your lips and it's his turn to shifts so he's leaning up against the headboard, gripping your hips so you're positioned on his lap in a way that your ass isn't completely digging into his groin. 
His hand traces under your chin and then he cups your cheeks as he smiles. "My luv, I don't care what anyone thinks. I wasn't asking so ya'd also get one done, promise. Couple tattoos are incredibly cringey," he jokes with a scoff, then continues, his tone serious again, "now what's all this talk about me stopping loving ya? Ya gone completely mental on me now, darlin'?"
You look away, embarrassed. "I don't know."
Tangerine shakes his head and tuts. "Well, you're talkin' absolute nonsense. You're it for me, ya hear me? That's why I want a reminder of you forever engraved on my skin—because if by some hellish circumstances I can't have ya, I don't want anyone else. I'm yours and only yours."
He kisses your nose. "So, if you're willin', I'd love nothin' more than to have ya choose another for me, m'okay? Something small if you want, just for us."
You listen to him, taking in his words and then you smile and lean in to kiss his lips, warming up to his proposal so much so that a few weeks later, you stand to the side as Tangerine sits in the tattoo chair.
His arm rests on the small table to his left and his tattoo guy, a burly American named Dennis covered in tattoos, smiles at you. "So this is your little lady," he grins as he prepares the ink, "she is as sweet as you said, man."
Tangerine chuckles and beckons you over so you stand closer to him. "Isn't she?" he beams and turns to you. "Okay, show him, darlin'," he says and you hand Dennis a small paper where you'd drawn a small heart. It's simple. Nothing fancy—just a simple little heart that Tangerine wants on his wrist, almost hidden by his other tattoos but still visible enough for him. 
"Is it gonna hurt?" you whisper, worried for him, and Dennis chuckles. 
"I'm sure your boy can handle some pain," he jokes and Tangerine holds you hand with his other one. 
"I love you", he mouths, as his blue eyes shimmer with excitement at the anticipation of having something you'd drawn immortalized on his skin.
Once Dennis is finished with the tattoo and Tangerine can examine it, he turns and shows it to you. "Well? What do ya think?"
You barely blink. You can't tear your eyes away from the tiny heart drawing on his wrist and when you look up at him, knowing he has your real heart anyways, you break into a beaming grin.
"I absolutely adore it," you say honestly and those words have never made Tangerine as happy as now.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago
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I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)
Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️
I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️✨
🎩 🤺
Time Written - 9:07 p.m
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The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.
Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.
Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.
Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.
He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.
While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.
You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?
Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.
Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.
He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.
His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.
“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.
You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.
His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.
You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.
“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.
Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.
His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.
“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.
Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.
It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.
He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.
“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.
“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.
Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.
“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”
You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”
He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.
This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.
You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.
Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.
A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.
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miirohs · 1 year ago
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he looks up, grinnin' like a devil [r.n.z]
pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader wc: 0.5k cw: minor spoilers an: i feel like this man needs a fic from my bc he lives in my head rent free. anyways dont get mad at me if this isnt accurate lol i did everything based off the live action n i plan on reading the manga (eventually)
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"Zoro?" You huffed, laying still on the floor of the quarterdeck, eyes shut as you bathed in the sunlight.
There was no response and you frowned, calling again.
"Zoroooo."
A few beats of silence, followed by clunking on wood and and a grunt as shade was cast over your closed eyes. There was a thump and you grinned.
"What?"
You cracked open an eye lazily, staring at Zoros' face as he bent over you, watching you closely.
"Are you mad at me for yelling for you?" You muttered, head bumping against his leg, crossed under the other that his arm rested on.
"Maybe. I was trying to take a nap. Didn't work anyways. What are you doing up here?" You simply turned your head towards him, eyes flitting over his face for what seemed like the thousandth time.
No matter how many times you saw him, you could never seem to get over his profile.
"I was helping Sanji with the tangerines. He needed my help picking the fruit and watering the plants." You sighed, turning on your side.
He made a face, somewhere between disbelief and what looked like jealousy, but you couldn't tell. Not as the sun glared at you from behind him.
"He promised me food if i helped him," you protested at his look, rolling your eyes, "Don't look at me like that."
"How does that pertain to me? I never said anything." He shot back, failing to hide the flustered look at his eyes as he realized you'd caught him. "Zoroooo- you're making the face again," You giggled, rolling onto your stomach to stare at him.
He pretended to look confused, but you knew him like the back of your hand, thinly veiled distress underlying his features.
"Give it up Zo, you're jealous!" You teased, running a finger along the hemming of his pants. "Am not," he said plainly, averting your eyes.
"Am too-" You hummed.
"Am. not." He leaned down, baring his teeth slightly. His earrings jingled in the wind, gently swayed by the breeze.
Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his face, fingers grazed barely by the golden earrings.
There were freckles littered all over his face, barely noticeable unless you looked close enough.
You hadn't realized they were there until after the fight with Mihawk, when you stayed at his side, leaning over him hoping he would wake up. They were like little mini constellations, a galaxy you could kiss, although you had never said that to his face.
"Have i ever told you how pretty you look?" You left kiss after kiss on his cheeks, skin burning despite how stoic he looked on the outside. "You've got a grin like the devil yet the aura of an angel."
"Shouldn't i be saying that to you?" He huffed, pulling you closer. He obviously didn't want to let you go.
"You should. I want to hear it more from you," you said, expectant for the tiniest bit more you could milk from this, "tell me how much you love me."
Zoro's gruff exterior softened slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering under bated breath, "You're as beautiful as always, Y/n."
"Well, in that case," you said playfully, "you're incredibly handsome, Zoro. My one and only."
A rare smile played on his face, and you looked around quickly, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. The breeze seemed to pick up, salty sea air filling your lungs.
As you broke the kiss, you let out a laugh, "I think we both needed that."
Zoro nodded in agreement. "Yeah, maybe I'm a bit jealous, but I can't stand the thought of you spending too much time with that damn cook."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his green hair. "Don't worry, Roronoa. You're the only one I want."
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Good," he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. "Because you're the only one i need."
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landograndprix · 1 year ago
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「Mini me, mini you? ๛ l.n || c.l」
part vii
✧.* you and lando need to make a decision, a decision that might just be the best for the both of you but one is getting over it faster than the other
✧.* there's a little time jump in here 😉 also this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list since it's a mess to tag that many people when half of it doesn't work, hope you understand! Some people are tagged in the comments, I can only tag 50 peeps in a post. Love ya ❤️
✧.* prev part - next part
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𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 187,672 others
y/nusername he be cheesin' 🐶
tagged: landonorris
view all 489 comments
norrislando I refuse to believe this is our boy Benji, why's this dude growing so fast? 🥺
julieeeexo love that she still tags lando, like man, look at our son 🥰
landonorris he do be goofin' 🐶
norry4 just like his mom and dad!
clsixteen I just know this boy's spoiled rotten like he should 🥺
yourfriend3 the most handsome boy on the planet ❤️
charles_leclerc the best boy 🐾
sharl16 this dog having the best step-dad for real
carlandooo did I miss something? Step-dad?
sharl16 we are all convinced charles and y/n are dating 🥰
carlandooo but she's with lando..no?
sharl16 they broke up like 5 or 6 months ago but they're still good friends!
carlandooo wow, a lot has happened since I left 😭
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y/nusername
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liked by maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc and 202,673 others
y/nusername Monaco day ft the love of my life @.maxfewtrell
view all 601 comments
charles16 okay girlie I see the soft launch 👀
maxfewtrell soulmates babes
norrizz lmao this is so max and y/n coded, I love them
landonorris absolutely disgusting
norry4 someone's a bit jealous 😂
leclerc_16 that soft launch tho
yourfriend3 better take us with you next time
y/nusername yes mum, I will
charles_leclerc ❤️
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formulaonewags
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liked by 425 others
formulaonewags one of charles' friends posted this picture of what seems to be charles' and y/n enjoying some time together! The picture has been removed from the friend's story, most likely posted by mistake.
view all 102 comments
carlandooo oh stop it, I'm not supposed to ship this 😭
bott_ass yo y'all so quick, this was posted like 5 minutes ago 💀
sharl16 could be anyone tbh but okay
sixteencl I mean the rumors have been y/n and charles so it would make sense bestie
sharl16 thanks bestie but I'm in denial 😔
chilisainz no but they are being cute though..
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummersx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs
Mini me taglist: @myloverjk-blog @allywthsr @myescapefromthislife @justdreamersdream @celestialams @ihrtdan @sunnytkm23 @yunnie-f1 @stevesworld9 @azxulaa @raizelchrysanderoctavius @leclercdream @opchelia @ssararuffoni @mqcherie @c-tangerine @au-ghosttype @changetyre @elijahslover @roseseraj @luciaexcorvus @evans-dejong @rinhvnt @champomiel @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @hearts4joao @escapism-writer @eugene-emt-roe @bb-swift @christianpulisic10 @bladestark @ayoana @greigreyhiyyih @f1mockingjay @ironmaiden1313 @enhacolor @loxbbg @babyvinnie @wibi96 @celesteblack08 @laneyspaulding19
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna
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honeydjarin · 1 year ago
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(I’LL GIVE YOU THE MOON)
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OPLA SANJI X READER
You owe Sanji a dance and he intends to have it Or A flirt is going to flirt (that doesn’t mean he’s not yours)
genre: fluff, mild angst
warnings: smoking, drinking
word count: 1,500
a/n: I wasn’t expecting the first part to receive so much love! Thank you everyone who took the time to leave such kind comments. This fic takes place after Bring Me the Sun, but it was planned as a separate one shot and can be read as such.
PART I: BRING ME THE SUN
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You stand on the back deck of the Going Merry, the round faces of Nami’s tangerines staring at you from either side. The moon joins in, its face glowing more gold than silver where it hangs just above the horizon. You think it’s a full moon.
Maybe that’s why you feel like you're losing yourself. 
You’re alone on the ship—or you’re supposed to be—while the rest of the Straw Hat Crew are out at a bar, enjoying a little downtime between wild adventures. Yet even here, surrounded by only the sound of water lapping at the stern, the sweet tangerines swaying in the low breeze, and the silent gaze of the moon, you are haunted by the man that consumes your head and your heart. 
You can still feel the heat of his hand against your lower back, the curve of his fingers on the nape of your neck, the weight of his arm across your shoulders. You can still feel the brush of his hair against your cheek as he leaned in close for you to hear him over the music. Despite the fresh air, the smoke of his cigarette still fills your nose (or maybe that’s a phantom too). Even now, with so much distance between you, Sanji’s touch still lingers. 
It’s so easy to feel like you’re special when he’s near you, like you’re the only one he sees when he turns his soft gaze your way, lips curling in an easy smile. The way he speaks makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world he could ever have eyes for. Like you’re the person he holds closest to his heart—just as haunted as you are. 
And then he stands up, offers to get you another drink, saying: “It’s the least I can do for someone so beautiful.” 
You’re left watching as he turns that smile towards a stranger getting a drink next to him, eyes gleaming as he laughs, and you wonder if you’re just another one of his friendly flirtations. Maybe that gentle fondness that softens his features when he looks your way isn’t that at all, but merely the familiarity of being with a friend.   
You want to be his friend. You also want to be so much more. 
You couldn’t stay at the bar tonight, despite leaving Sanji with a full glass and a broken promise that you half hope he remembers. You needed space to think, to breathe. Sanji would have made his way back to you, he always does, but your mood had soured too much to play it off as simply being tired. You walked past a drunkenly dancing Usopp on your way out the door and wished you could be as carefree as him. 
The chill of the night air starts to seep into your skin, raising goosebumps on your flesh. Still, you remain. You stay there when you hear the rest of the crew return, voices loud in their drunken haze, carrying across the ship even as they descend to the sleeping quarters. You’re still there when silence settles once again. 
Footsteps trail up the stairs, coming to a halt not far behind you. When you turn, you see Sanji standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, eyes taking you in. It’s impossible to tell what he’s feeling in the low light. 
“What are you doing out here?” you ask. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” he says. 
“I don’t think I will either,” you admit. You turn your attention back to the moon. It’s higher now, glowing bright enough to drown out the stars around it. 
Sanji steps closer, closing the distance between you. He leans against the railing beside you, staring out at the moon. The heat of his arm inches from yours is enough to remind you of how cool the air really is, and you shiver. 
“You’re cold,” he says, and you nod, unable to face him. Without a word, he takes off his jacket and places it over your shoulders, the fabric helping to chase some of the chill away, but not all. Once again you’re left wondering if this is just a friendly gesture, or if it could ever mean something more. 
“Thanks,” you mumble. 
“Will you look at me?” Sanji asks. You nod again, but turning to face the man who is always in your thoughts is more difficult than you expect. Instead you clutch his jacket closer, seeking comfort for a problem of your own making. 
When you still don’t move, Sanji takes your cheeks in his hands, thumbs stroking gently along their curve, guiding you to look at him. His hold prevents you from turning away. 
His hair glows silver in the low light, like a halo—beautiful. Your skin warms beneath his touch despite the ache in your heart. The chef’s own cheeks burn red, the wine he drank throughout the night settling just beneath his skin in a rosy flush that you long to press your lips to, if only to feel the heat of him. 
It takes all of your willpower to keep from leaning forward and kissing him right then and there. Liquid courage leaves you sticky with affection and with inhibitions dulled just enough to risk acting on your desires. It’s the little voice in the back of your head that reminds you you’re just a friend that keeps you from pulling him closer. 
“You promised me a dance tonight,” Sanji says, words laced in disappointment. 
“Did I?” you play dumb. You can’t help but hope the wine has stained his memory, not just his cheeks. It’s merely wishful thinking—a couple of glasses isn’t enough for Sanji to get drunk, just enough to go soft around the edges.
He hums. “You did. And then you left before we could.” 
“I needed to get some air,” you claim. 
“I thought things were going well, that we were having a good time. Together.” All traces of flirtation and charm have vanished from the chef’s features, leaving nothing but unclouded honesty behind. His usually crystalline eyes are dark in the night, their usual light gone and instead filled with confusion as he looks into your own. 
Guilt settles in your stomach like a stone. Of course your actions hurt him. 
“We were,” you admit. “But I got scared.” 
Even in the dark, you can see the moment your words sink in, recognition sparking in Sanji’s eyes, and then something more, something softer. Your favorite smile curls on his lips and you can’t help but stare. 
Sanji starts to remove one of his hands from your cheek, but before he can your own hand reaches up, keeping it there. It’s selfish, you hurt him—hurt yourself too, with all of your overthinking. 
He looks at you so fondly. He always does.  
“You know I mean it, right darling? Every word. You’re beautiful.”
The ache that held itself in your heart since leaving the bar eases, fading into a mere whisper. He isn’t looking at you like a friend, or some stranger in a bar. He’s too honest right now, and it’s all the reassurance you need. At least for a little while.   
Once again you’re overcome with the need to kiss him, and this time you do. You lean in, and before you have a chance to doubt your decision, Sanji meets you halfway. 
His lips are soft and warm against yours, better than you imagined. He tastes like the smoke of his cigarettes. Not a phantom—this is real. It’s like a balm for your heart that dreamed of this moment for so long.
When you finally pull back, his eyes are shining bright enough that you swear you can see the moon in them. Or maybe it’s you who is moonstruck. Either way, you can’t stop your own lips from curling into a smile, a laugh bubbling up your throat and spilling out into the night. 
You want to kiss him again, so you do. When you pull back this time, Sanji’s lips find your cheek, pressing a kiss there too with a murmur of “you really are too sweet to me.” 
When Sanji pulls back again, just enough to take in your lovesick state, he adds, “You promised me a dance.”
He sways you slowly, barely rocking more than the boat’s natural rhythm in the tide, his smile never dropping for a minute. There’s no music to guide you, but you’re too caught up in each other to care. 
“I’m pretty sure the music at the bar was faster,” you joke.
“Was it? I think I prefer this speed.” As if to emphasize his point, Sanji pulls you even closer, tucking you against his solid form. 
When you left the bar, you didn’t expect your night to end so perfectly. Surrounded by only the sound of water lapping at the stern, the sweet tangerines swaying in the low breeze, and the silent gaze of the moon—there is nowhere else you would rather be. 
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a/n: I think Sanji would still be a charmer even if he was interested in someone/in a relationship. That doesn't mean he wouldn't be loyal to his love.
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keravnous · 2 years ago
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bathroom b!tch; tangerine/fem!reader (smut; 18+)
part two | part three | part four
playlist: train quickie with tangerine
Tangerine meets you in one of the bathrooms on the bullet train. He just wants to clean up after his tussle with Ladybug and get rid of the blood, but he could use you to blow off some steam as well. You know: he has to take it if he sees it.
word count: 5,9k
warnings: mirror sex, bathroom sex, semi public, fingering, oral (female receiving), blood (it's tangerine's), squirting, dry humping, rather rough sex, unprotected sex, light choking, confined spaces, dirty talk, name calling, kinda a quickie?, tangerine's a little rude but surprisingly gentle too idk he's just like that, he just needs to fuck the adrenaline outta himself, i have very strong feelings about this angry man
title is from the song of the same name, bathroom bitch by holychild
also thank you v for a) helping me out with Japanese and b) by telling me what being a passenger on a bullet train feels like
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You knew it was a bad idea.
Starring at yourself in the impressively clean mirror of the small bathroom, you try your best to hold back any fresh tears.
You knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. You fucking knew it and yet you accepted your fiancés pleas to Just try it. Maybe, it indeed would've worked out if he wasn't fucking his bloody secretary.
You regret leaving London. You miss your home.
You're not even that heartbroken, you just feel exhausted, like you wasted an awful lot of time.
You take a long, good look at yourself. Bloodshot eyes and a sad hue resting over your pupils, turning the colour dark and deep. The dress, that you bought for your anniversary brunch – a surprise, quite as much as the one he gave you, when you walked in on him, balls deep in his secretary – now looks oddly strange, out of place on you. You feel overdressed and ashamed, foolish.
But there’s something else, too: the loneliness that followed suite after your screaming, after fighting with him - after breaking up with him. It's been there since you boarded the train to Nagoya but now it rolls over you like a wave of-
Thump, thump.
"What the fuck", you mutter, taking a ragged breath, before yelling out, "Occupied!"
You just want to be left at fucking peace, not being watched by other passengers as you're bawling your eyes out. All you want is to get off that train and burn some of that fucker’s money on a spontaneous vacation. All you want is for the remaining days in Japan to be good ones.
Another sharp knock follows. This one rattles the door.
It takes a moment for you to scramble for the right words, the ones you have picked up when visiting your fiancé before. "Shiyouchu!"
Another knock. And another.
Motherfucker.
You clench your teeth - saying goodbye to the precious moments of crying in silence for the year you've lost to the most useless relationship of all fucking mankind - and wipe away the wetness below your eyes to open the door. "I said-"
Oh.
Oh shit.
There's a very handsome man waiting outside the door. He is towering over you, impatience plastered on his face and seeping through his every movement, with the way he's leaning against the door frame.
He's hot.
Also, he's dripping in blood.
His light blue shirt, once crisp and clean, is now disshelved and just as stained as his expensive looking dark-blue vest.
"Jesus, fuck, are you alright?", you blurt out.
The man's raising an eyebrow. "Could be asking you the same, love. Now, would you please get the fuck outta there."
He's moving towards you, closing in the last few inches separating the two of you. Your gaze is focused on the nasty cut on his arm.
"You're bleeding", you say dumbly.
His eyes shoot up at you and for a split-second you feel like you are face to face with a predator. The anxiety, that the blood and his rude behaviour sparked in your chest, sends adrenaline pumping through your veins and has the muscles your legs preparing for fight or flight. He blinks.
"I know", he says and his lips curl up to something, that you're convinced is supposed to be a smile, "Now, if ya'd be so kind?"
He gestures behind you, towards the empty bathroom.
"No?", you say, voice shooting up a little, which immediately has him cautiously throwing a glance down the hall to his right, "No, I won't! You need help, how the fuck -- what the fuck happened?"
"You're starting to really get on my fuckin’ tits, pretty thing. Would y'just let me the fuck inside?", he growls, tilting his head towards you. His tone has the hairs on your arms rising, as he is starring you into the ground.
You back up, colliding unpleasantly with the doorframe, that nearly drills itself into your left shoulder.
"Thank you, Lady", he's squeezing past you and then turns around again, giving you a quick one-over. You are unable to move, mesmerized by the way he's looking at you.
The corners of his mouth tilt up again and one of his hands, a little sticky and red with his own blood, comes up to his face, straightening his moustache, as his gaze runs over your body once more. You should leave, you should run - clearly, something is awfully and so not right but you just can't, being glued to the spot by his eyes.
It shouldn't make your loins grow hot, but you can't help it. You feel your belly tingle, shooting sparks down down down between your legs. He is very attractive and the aura of pure fucking danger that wafts around him doesn’t do what it normally should do – instead, it pulls you in. Oh, aren’t you just fucked.
"What were y'saying about help, again?", the man murmurs, gaze locking with yours.
"Uuuh", it's a very stupid sound you make and his eyes spark up at that, lips giving room to flash some teeth, "I-I just said you look like you might need some help?"
"Well, maybe I do."
He licks his lower lip and you blink, gaze following the movement.
This is very stupid. This is risky, dangerous, and most likely something you are going to regret.
It's not only the situation, it's him, too. He seems dangerous. It's not only the blood, mind you. It’s the way he moves, how his eyes dart through the room, over your body. It’s the aggression in his voice that he’s trying to hide, cover up but ultimately fails, something that seeps through every pore of him.
But he's also just ridiculously hot, walking with his crotch first, heavy northern British accent swirling the words around his tongue and, fuck, it's mostly the way he's looking at you.
And you're just so fucking full of anger and grief and your life feels strangely directed and determined by your shitty-ass fiancé and there's so much rage and sadness -
You take a step into the bathroom and the door slides shut behind you.
"Good", he hums, "Because you do look, like you could also use some help."
The door locks behind you and take another step forward, approaching him. "You have no fucking idea", revenge sex is a very stupid concept but now, it seems very tempting. It's exciting and makes you feel oddly alive.
"Did'ya get dumped?", and you don't know why you trust him with that information but you can hear yourself say: "Cheated on. Fiancé of twelve months." There is a hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can smell him now, the blood on his skin and clothes, the heavy scent of his perfume – it’s warm and thick, vanilla and fruit, like an orange grove.
"Allow me the comment - that's one bloody stupid bastard."
You look up at him and blink. That man's insanely pretty and you swallow as he pulls you in even closer, your hand connecting with his chest. It is firm and warm and your fingers get a little sticky with the fresh blood on his shirt. They splay out, feeling the firm muscle flex beneath the expensive fabric.
"How much time d'we have, sugar?", he hums, runs his thumb across your lower lip.
"I have to get off in Nagoya."
"Gonna get you off alright now, sweetie", you roll your eyes at that and he chuckles, "Bit more than half'n hour I'd say. Think we can manage that?"
You nod while biting your lip, adrenaline thick and heavy in your veins, pumping your blood down south and making you wet wet wet, and he laughs at that, runs his tongue along his bright, bright teeth.
It's sheer excitement that has your belly tingle and you lock your eyes with his, the darkening blueish green pulling you in and then he leans down, locks his lips with yours.
They are soft and warm and his moustache tingles a little. You hum against his lips, one hand fisting his vest as the other sneaks up his muscular arm, runs over and through the blood, up up up next to the cut and comes a halt on his neck. The hand on your waist holds you close, fingers spread out delicately as he starts to feel you up.
His tongue darts out and licks over your lips and you gladly give him more room, parting your lips slightly. He's pushing in, licking into your mouth. You hum deep in your throat, pressing against him, tasting the cigarette smoke on his lips.
You can feel the bulge in his pants, his dick pressing hotly against your lower belly. It ignites your loins, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.
You moan into his mouth and he responds by pushing you back, heaving you up the small sink, deepening the kiss. Your back presses against the mirror as you clutch onto him, hand running up his neck and into his hair, slick with product and a little sticky with sweat. Your knees hit his hipbones and the man starts to roll his hips into yours, having his hard dick rubbing against your crotch and your eyelids flutter with the feeling. He's rock-hard and so so hot through his dress pants and you can't fucking wait to get to it.
He eventually breaks the kiss, breath ragged as his eyes roam over your face, hands feeling your thighs up. You decide that you need more of him and thus, your free hand roams over his chest, fingers making quick work of his vest. As soon as you pop the last button, he hastily tears it off of himself, throws it to the ground where it lands with a quiet thud.
"C'mon sweetheart, I know you clammin' to touch me", he says, voice deep and raspy and you do - like you're on fucking autopilot. Your hands dart out, roaming over his defined chest. He feels nice and firm and makes you want him more, want to feel all of him, all at once.
He hums quietly, as you open a few buttons of his shirt and run your hands over the sweaty, warm skin, through the dust of fine chest hair, making his chain rustle. He feels nice and it makes you want him.
The man looks up from your hands and you don't know what has come over you as your hand glides up further, cupping his neck, thumb on his jawline. "Fuck me", you breathe, "Fuck me 'til I can't walk."
He grins and leans in even closer, his clothed and hard dick pressing against your wet panties, as he's kissing a wet trail from your jaw to your ear. "Who would've thought - such a naugh'y lil'mouth on such a pretty woman."
You hook one leg around his waist, tugging lightly at the hair that's curling in his neck as he starts to suck on your neck. The slight pain ignites your lust, has arousal blooming and wetness pooling between your legs. You want to tell him to stop, before he marks you up for good as --
"Name's Tangerine", he suddenly rasps, as his tongue rubs over the spot he has been sucking on and you're pretty damn sure that he just gave you a hickey.
"Like the-"
"The fucking fruit, yeah. 'M gonna burst you more like something of a cherry, though", he rumbles, quietly laughing to himself with his fingers digging into your hips.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses himself flush against you - all firm muscles, perfume, and hot skin - tongue licking over your throat like the hot blade of a knife, dancing over your jaw.
It's most likely not his real name and that should really, really alert you. But it doesn't - instead you surrender yourself to him, letting your head fall back and parting your legs, inviting him in.
And the man -Tangerine - follows suite and shoves your dress up up up, runs his hands over your now exposed thighs. You lean forward a little, until your lips brush over his. "Name's Y/N", you whisper and his eyes glint a little at that, "Pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, you gon' be a fun one", he grins and you do too, before leaning in and kissing him again. He is less gentle now, keen on getting you hot, his kisses turn sloppy quickly, biting your lower lip and licking into your mouth until you lack air. The thumbs on your legs dive in deeper, until they connect with your crotch. And then, one of them gently runs over your soaked panties.
Tangerine breaks the kiss, wet lips brushing over the corner of your mouth, only to inhale sharply - keeps his cheeks puffed theatrically for a short moment, then exhales just as sharply, eyeing you up and down. "Jesus Christ, that pussy of yours s'fucking wet, innit?", he rumbles and two of his fingers run over the wet fabric once more, slowly starting to rub your clit.
You gasp, hips bucking a little and you watch the way his hand vanishes under the hem of your dress. "Fuck", you moan quietly as he quickly finds the spot that makes your thighs clench. He rubs you through your panties, soft lace turning wet wet wet and dampening his skin. Your mouth falls agape seeing his wrist twitching between your legs and the way he's looking down at it, a little mesmerized, makes your head swim. Then, he stops.
"Yeah, let's get those off", he mutters, more to himself than to you and then he's tugging at the straps of your panties, riiips the lace and tears them apart. "Oh-", you gasp unintelligently as he carelessly drops them to the ground and you really don't fucking mind at all.
It's the first time in a long time that you feel wanted, like someone's actually hungry, greedy for you. And it turns you on. A lot. It is like Tangerine has flipped a switch and you want him just as much as he seems to want you. And you want it now.
You blink at him through your lashes. "You gonna touch me now?"
"Easy, love", he chuckles, genuinely amused and then his fingers are slooowly creeping back over your legs, until his index finger finally touches your exposed cunt. The touch is cold, but not unpleasant and you suck in a sharp breath, one that hitches in your throat.
He watches you, as he runs it over your pussy, quickly joined by a second, digits running up and down, spreading your slick. You hum, pleasure building up in your abdomen and then, finally, his fingers return to your clit.
Slow, wide circles spread your lips apart, making you moan and throwing your head back in pleasure. His bracelet clinks as he quickly picks up a faster rhythm, keen on seeing you coming loose, circles growing smaller.
"Oh shit, yes that's fucking it", you can feel arousal building in your stomach, shooting through your body. Tangerine laughs under his breath and his lips are onto you again, licking and sucking over your straightened neck. You don't give a fuck anymore, the slight pain of him bruising your skin makes your hips buck and rolling against his digits.
"Such a good girl, ain't ya?, he groans against your neck and it sends shivers down your spine as you're moaning and gasping, nodding frantically.
Your body feels like it has been ignited, with the way his fingers rub your clit, teasing your pussy and then there's one finger circling your hole and fuck, you really fucking need it. You spread your legs farther and Tangerine puuushes in, sinks one rather cold finger in your hole, your hot hot skin meeting the cold gold of his ring.
Tangerine starts to fuck you slowly, finger pushing in and out of you, until you're loose enough to take a second one. His rings thrust against your hole every time he pushes them back inside and the sensation has you whining, his lips still glued to your neck, occasionally moving down down down to you cleavage, licking fat stripes over your warm, sweaty skin.
A flood of very good, very dangerous emotions has one of your hands abandoning the sink, instead running up his arm, splaying across his shoulder. You can feel the muscles working slightly beneath the light blue fabric, a little dampened by his sweat. "Fuck, you make me so hot, shit, that feels so good", you whimper quietly, gasping as his fingers push even deeper. It seems to kick Tangerine off, moustache grazing your skin as he’s picking up an even faster rhythm - rubbing, circling your clit faster, adding more pressure - obscene squelching sounds filling the air of the small bathroom. You moan as pleasure shoots up your spine, has you rocking on and against his fingers.
You can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, hole fluttering against the cold, golden rings and then --
He breaks from your throat and whistles lowly as fresh wetness pools around his fingers, your squirt dampening his golden bracelet and the cuff of his shirt.
Tangerine pulls his fingers out of you slowly, slick with your juices and looks at them for a few seconds, the way your wetness is glistening on his skin in the dim lights. He brings them up up up, gaze connecting with yours and then -
They go past his lips, as his tongue darts out and licks them clean. You blink - once, twice. "Fuck", you breathe, and he chuckles.
"You taste like a fuckin' dream, love", his hands push your legs further apart and before you know it, he sinks down to his knees. You blink at him, as he lifts the hem of your dress up, "Might wanna hold that f'me", and you do, pulling the fabric as high up as you can, exposing yourself to him further.
Tangerine tsks as he takes the sight in and you can feel your cheeks growing hot, burning red, as his fingers dance over your pussy.
"Don't ya just have the prettiest cunt?", he hums, running his fingers through your folds, "'M gonna fuck ya so good."
"Jesus, Tangerine", you huff out, legs shaking a little as his thumb carefully rubs over your clit.
Tangerine looks up at you, smirking a little and then he's leaning in, hands coming to rest on your thighs, forcing your legs apart. He's not breaking eye contact, keeps your gazes chained together, as he dives in and licks a long, fat stripe from your hole upwards to your clit.
You fucking mewl, as his moustache rubs over your sensitive skin, tongue circling your clit for a short moment. His eyes gleam up at you, watching your reaction as his tongue swipes down, over your folds to your hole, teasing it. It has your legs kicking a little and you grab the sink with both your hands, as your thighs give a quick shake.
You can hear him chuckle deep in his throat and it makes you hot hot hot all over, with the way his tongue crawls back up, lips grazing your cunt and then he's onto your clit once more, gently lapping at it, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin.
A strangled noise escapes your throat as arousal rushes through your abdomen and up up up your whole body, has your chest heaving with a ragged breath and rolling your hips forward. It's so so good, but not enough - you just need more.
"Don't ya move, love", Tangerine rasps and one of his hands grabs your hips forcefully, dress sliding up to your navel as he's holding you in place. The other crawls up your lower leg and thigh, teasing your folds and then one finger presses against your hole, pushes in roughly.
You moan as he immediately starts to fuck you with it, pumping your wetness in and out of you with a rather merciless rhythm, keen on having you come for him, having you squirt once more.
His eyelids flutter, long and dark lashes against his pale skin as his tongue licks over your folds, tasting your wetness and taking your scent in. You're tasting so so sweet to him, like a fucking forbidden fruit that he's going to devour anyways, because he can and he will and because fuck the rules he had set himself for this job.
He closes his eyes as he pushes a second finger into you, pumping them in and out of you, while his tongue laps at your cunt, lips closing in around your folds, gently sucking. His fingers are fucking you fast now, pushing you further and further.
"Oh god", you gasp, one hand still holding your own weight, the other now fisting his hair, pulling it. It seems to spur him on, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, gently nibbling at the soft skin as his finger pumps into you. It's even better than before, with his beard scratching you and his tongue and lips gliding over your cunt as if it were a riddle he's going to solve without his hands. The heel of your shoe digs into his back - desperate for any leverage, to just feel him - as you are nearing your release.
"Shit, fuck fuck fuck", your voice sounds strange in your ears, high-pitched and far far away, between the squelching sounds that his rapidly moving fingers pull out of your pussy, "I'm gonna-"
He hums and then, after a short moment, pulls his digits out of you and grabs your hips hard, holding you in place, not stopping his tongue from rubbing over your cunt hard.
It tips you over the edge, has you breaking loose. You gasp loudly, throwing your head back against the mirror, incoherent rambling leaving your lips as you come - riding your orgasm out on his face as he licks you through your orgasm, your hips bucking wildly with it.
As your orgasm rolls over you, you already know that this isn't over. Usually, you would be spent for now, calm and a little tired but right now - you're not at all, lust still rolling over you, fresh wetness pooling between your legs again. "Mhm, shit", you breathe, feet kicking a little as Tangerine's tongue continues to flick over your clit. You are still wet, already desperate for more, more of him.
All you can think about is his hard dick, that you've felt earlier pressing against your crotch and pure want tingles in your stomach. Tangerine's lips close in around your throbbing clit, overstimulation making your head swim.
"Please, fuck, please", your hip bucks against his iron grip that holds you steadily against the sink. Tangerine looks up at you again and let’s go of your clit with an obscene pop. His moustache is dampened by your wetness as he grins up at you. "Please please", he mocks your high-pitched whines and then smirks, "Wan'it that bad, love?"
"Need you - ah, fuck - inside me. Oh, shit", you whine, as your hole clenches around nothing, desperate for more than his fingers. You are so turned on by this stranger, lust crashing over your body like waves - you can feel its tingle in your chest, your legs, feeling your pussy desperate for another touch.
Tangerine blinks for a moment and you're sure, that you saw his eye twitch and then he, very dramatically, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. "Shit, love, you make me feel all sorts o'things", he says quietly and then quickly gets up, wipes his lips with the back of his hand.
He leans in and his lips lock with yours again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, as he licks into your mouth, grinning against your lips, damp stache rubbing over your upper lip. He licks over it, groans deep in his throat, while his hands brush over your legs, before he commands, whispers against your lips: "Bend over the sink f'me.”
"What?", you blink, words not really reaching you through the lustful haze that has wrapped your brain in like cotton candy. All you can do is look at him, at this very handsome stranger with the very fake name and he has your head swimming, brain giving in and surrendering to lust once more.
You take the hand he offers you as he helps you down the sink, your legs a little wobbly. "Alright c'mon now, girl, don't keep me waitin'", Tangerine gives you a light pat on the cheek, rings barely connecting with your skin - a patronizing gesture that has your knees going ever weaker for a moment as you try to turn around, hands gripping the edges of the sink.
You watch him in the mirror, as he makes quick work of his belt and the fly of his trousers. As he pulls his dick out, your mouth waters. It's long and big and has just the right girth, a drop of precum glistening on its tip. You'd really like to suck that cock, like right motherfucking now.
Tangerine looks at you. "Got all hungry fo'it?", and you nod - breathing out Fuck yeah - arching your back for him, "Alright love, just a minute."
He spits in his hand and rubs the saliva over his dick, giving himself one, two strokes. You arch your back, keeping your eyes on him as he grabs your hips hard, lines himself up, head of his dick resting against your hole - all hot and hard - and then he finally, finally pushes himself in. The stretch is nice and has you squirming a little with the dull pain, excitement lighting your nerves up.
"Jesus Christ", his head falls forward a little, "You're so fuckin' tight."
He bottoms out, forcing himself in deep, holding still. You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, but he doesn't move and you can see his chest heaving, hear him grunt. His hand roams over your bare ass, shoving the dress even higher, until your back is partly exposed and his hand creeps around your body, over your stomach and under the dress, slips beneath your bra and cups one of your tits.
Tangerine squeezes it, feels you up and then pulls his dick back out only to quickly push himself back in. The sound that leaves your throat is nothing but desperate and your hand grips the sink harder, knuckles slowly turning white. His jaw is going a little slack as he rolls his hips into you, fucking you slowly.
"Ah shit", he groans, a deep and coarse sound, that makes you shiver, "Doesn't that just feel lovely?"
He watches the way his dick pumps into your pussy, eyebrows drawn together, lips slightly agape - until his gaze meets yours in the mirror once more and there it is - a shadow that dances over his eyes, turning the mesmerizing blue and green dark dark dark. One of his hands suddenly darts forward, rings glimmering in the dim light, only to roughly grab your chin, forcefully holding your head in place. It hurts a little, but the pain feels good, the way it stretches your back and intensifies the arch of it, forces you to look at him and yourself. Your mascara is pooling beneath your eyes, pupils blown wide and cheeks reddened.
"Would'ya just look at yourself", Tangerine groans, "Ya might be the hottest fucking thing I've seen in a long fuckin' time --" He groans again, thumb catching your lower lip and you moan as you watch his face coming a little loose with pleasure.
Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, thrusting into you and you push your hips back, meeting him - desperate for more more more. He grins at you in the mirror and his hand creeps a little lower, until it rest riiight below your jawline and then -
Then he squeezes.
It has you gasping, choking a little at the sudden loss of air and the feeling of your windpipe being closed. Your hip bucks against his and he licks his lips.
The lack of air has adrenaline rushing through your veins once more, as his dick pushes against your spongy hot walls and you feel your body surrendering to him fully, the small voice in the back of your head remembering you that You are at his mercy has you growing even wetter.
The hand lets go off your throat, now gently holding your head in place and you suck in a few deep breaths, gasping, greedily sucking in the air, as --
There must be a bump on the rails, as the wagon suddenly lifts a little and has you thrown forward towards the mirror, shoves his dick deeper into you. You moan, instinctively catching his eyes in the mirror.
His lips are slightly parted, eyes darkened by lust and his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. The train speeds up just as he leans forward, throws his chest against your back. His body is so so hot against yours and your walls flutter around his dick, as his scent wraps you in once more.
Tangerine lowers his head, until his forehead rests on your shoulder, cock twitching inside of you. "Ya have no bloody idea what'cha doin' to me, Lady", he says, voice coarse and dark and your eyelids flutter, "'M gonna ruin ya."
He lifts his head a little and your gazes connect in the mirror once more. A shiver runs down your spine - he means it.
And you feel it, too, as he thrusts into you once, knocks the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of it. The tip of his dick hits the spot perfectly and you nearly cry out in pleasure, hands gripping the sink tightly. There are small lines forming around his eyes as he's grinning against your shoulder, pulls out a little only to force himself back in, even deeper this time. The hand that was toying with your tit leaves, crawls back down and his arm wraps itself around your waist, holds you close.
Your legs shake as Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, starts pounding in to you like a starved man, like an animal gone wild. It's in his eyes, hunger hunger hunger and you feel pleasure shooting through your body, pooling in your abdomen. You squirt against his dick, wetting the trimmed pubic hair as his balls slap against your wet skin.
You suck in a sharp breath, a strangled high pitched whiny moan escaping your lips, as he hits your walls again, tip of his dick brushing over your g-spot, having you seeing stars. Your eyelids flutter, gasps escaping your mouth with every one of his thrusts.  
"Be fuckin' loud, you lil'slut, I don't care - one - bit", he says through gritted teeth, each word one thrust, "If they come knockin'. I’ll kill’em."
It shouldn’t – really, it shouldn’t – but it has your head swimming, rocking back against him, obscene sounds filling the small bathroom and you moan loudly. His jewellery rustles and clinks as he ruts into you, huffing against your shoulder. The force of his thrusts has your body moving back and forth like a ragdoll, hipbones bouncing against the sink, one of your hands coming loose and pressing flat against the mirror, desperate for any sort of leverage.
You can feel yourself clenching around him, white hot pleasure building on the edges of your brain, until there's nothing left but him him him.
"Fuck", you cry out, "I'm gonna fucking cum, shit shit shit", lips falling agape with pure pleasure. It’s too much and you can feel your muscles tensing.  
The hand around your throat tightens a bit more and that’s all you need – has your eyes falling shut, your second orgasm rolling over you. It knocks the air straight out of your lungs, has you going limp, while the muscles in your thighs and abdomen clench, holding and squeezing his dick inside of you.
You can hear him moan deeply, sounding far far away and then his cum hits your walls, paints it as he buries himself deep deep inside of you. You gasp, desperate for air and he lets go off your throat.
You suck in a few breaths and feel him doing the same, chest heaving against your back. "Fuck", he says and slowly straightens back up, looking at you in the mirror.
"Y'good over there, love?"
"Uh-huh", you hum, unable to speak, and blink at him. His hair's a mess and his cheeks are a little reddened, glistening with sweat.
Tangerine fucking winks at you and then slooowly, very carefully pulls out of you. You inhale sharply as you feel some of his cum following suite, dripping down your legs. You want to straighten up, too, clean it up, but he's quicker, taking one of the disposable towels and gently sweeps along your cunt.
"'S good, I can do that too, y'know", you say and take it from him, cleaning yourself up. For a long moment, while you can hear him putting himself back in his pants, there's silence between the two of you. Only, as you carefully put your dress back in place, does he look at you again.
"Be careful tonight, sweetheart", he says nonchalantly while tugging his shirt back into his slacks. He says it like it's nothing but it has the hairs on your body standing up.
I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. You look on the slight stains that his blood left on your fingers, that soaked his shirt.
"Make you sure you get out of that train in Nagoya, y'hear me?", his gaze is soft as it lands upon you. Your brain goes numb with anxiety.
"Y-yeah, yeah sure. I'm meeting a friend there, wouldn't miss her for the world."
He smiles at that. A genuine, warm smile. It does something funny to your stomach. "Alright love, gotta dash", he's straightening his vest and giving himself a glance in the mirror, running his hands through his hair, "There's this chap I gotta get rid of. Gimme a call, when you're in London, would'ya?"
You just nod and take the slim, white card he hands you. The numbers on it are orange.
"Very fucking funny", you huff and he grins, leans down towards you, and places his lips on your cheek. The kiss is feather-light but it'll haunt you late at night in the weeks, months to come after the story of the crashed bullet train breaks the international news. But right now, it makes your chest tingle in all the right ways.
"Tis'a good girl, eh?", Tangerine whispers and then, throwing one last look at you, struts out of the door.
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peachysunrize · 2 months ago
Text
[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, fluff, ANGST ANGST, English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 7k+
A/n: so so sooo sorry for the delay of this chapter but I managed to get a long chapter out!! Hope you like it and I hope the angst hits (I’m not really good at writing angst so I need to know ur thoughts on this chapter)😭😭😭
-> series masterlist <-
Chapter 8: ruins of a birthday
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“Hmm,” Aemond hums, stirring in his sleep as he feels something on his face, gently going from one place to another, clearly not wanting to wake him up. “Fuck off.”
“Don’t be rude, birthday boy.” He hears you mumble against his cheek, trailing your kisses to his soft lips. “Happy birthday.”
“Hmm,” he hums again, wrapping his arms around you while he tries to kiss you sleepily, but only whines when you pull away a little, reaching to push his hair out of his face.
“A thank you would be nice, you grumpy old man,” you tease him, kissing his forehead gently as you play with his hair, holding yourself up by your elbow on his spare pillow. “I remember your first day at school—“
“Don’t,” he grunts, pushing you on your back suddenly, resting his head on your chest as he tightens his arm around your middle, breathing against your boobs while he smirks. “This is nice.”
“Yeah? Wanna cuddle the day out?” you ask, threading your fingers through his unruly wavy hair. “Or I can take care of you…all day, every hour, every minute. I’m gonna spend the day with you and spoil you rotten, Lil nerd.”
“Hmmm, how are you going to take care of me?” he asks, looking up from your chest, his sleepy blue iris staring into yours. “Because I can lock us in the room and spend the entire day in the bed with you.”
“I can give you a blowjob.” You bite your lips, wiggling your way through his embrace until he is pushed on his back and you are hovering on top of him. “A really good, soul-crushing blowjob that blows your fucking mind.”
“Really?” he whispers, his breathing heavy and quick. “How good actually are you?”
“I can show you if you are interested,” you peck his lips before trailing your lips to his jaw, noticing how his chest goes up and down with each deep breath.
“I’m more than interested.” He leans his head back on his pillow, one of his hands coming up to caress your back while you keep your lips locked on his skin, moving from his jaw to his neck. “Fuck, darling, no marks—“
“Shh.” You sink your teeth in the junction of his neck and shoulder, earning a low groan from him. “I can cover them up with a bit of makeup, now let me have some fun with you.”
You go lower, tugging on his t-shirt until he pulls it off, revealing his chest and abs to you, and you take this chance to kiss your way to his nipples, sucking on the hardening buds slowly, and you feel his cock throbbing against your hip.
You flicker your tongue around his nipple, pulling a shuddering breath out of him, and he takes this chance to bring his hand to your head, petting your hair gently.
“Don’t tease me, baby,” he says, closing his eye as you let go of his nipple with a lewd ‘pop’ sound and kiss a path down to his belly button and lower until you reach the waistline of his pajamas. You pull the fabric down with your teeth, eyes staring up at him as you do, pulling back to help him push his pants down completely. He lifts his hips up, pushing his pants and boxers down, flopping back on the bed when his cock springs free, twitching with need and desire. 
“Already so hard for me,” you say, smirking at him when you find his cheeks burning, reaching to hold his heavy member in your palm before leaning down. “Happy birthday, sweet boy.”
You close your lips around the tip of his cock, flicking your tongue around the slit, making Aemond sigh in contentment. You open your mouth, letting his cock rest on your tongue as you lick the underside of it, putting on a show for him.
“Fuck, darling, please—“
“Already begging? How cute,” you say, grinning at him devilishly before letting your spit drop from your lips, smearing it all over his cock with one hand as you lean down to take him in your mouth, this time more than just his tip.
Aemond groans, feeling the warmth of your mouth engulfing him thoroughly. He throws his head back, the hand on your head pushes your hair out of your face, gently guiding you down to take more of him, and you oblige silently, humming around his cock as you take him deeper and deeper, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat.
“You look so fucking gorgeous like this.” He lets out a breathless chuckle, a small smile on his lips as his breathing gets more rapid and shallow. 
You close your eyes as you hollow your cheeks, stroking whatever you can not take, humming and stroking his slim hips and abs, and trying your best to ignore the wetness that pools into your panties.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he whispers, his face twisting with pleasure when your hand goes lower and cups his balls, squeezing and rubbing them in a way that makes his mouth go dry, and you do as he says, opening your eyes to look up at him. “There she is, my gorgeous girl.”
You feel him twitching in your mouth when you hum again, the vibration going straight to his core. He is close, closer than he should be but with the way you are sucking him off, he can no longer hold himself back.
“I’m— I’m coming, fuck—“
He groans, pulling you up by your hair and you gasp, taking this as your cue to stroke him with both hands. “Come for me, love, come on my face.”
His hips stutter upwards, his free hand fists the bedsheets, and his toes curl, spurts of cum coating your face while he lets out broken moans and groans. His back arches off of the bed a little, and your heart beats in your chest faster as you look at how beautiful he is with his reddened cheeks and gaping mouth.
“Shit, baby, I’m—“ he starts to apologize when he sees the state you are in, sitting up immediately to pull you in his lap, grabbing his t-shirt to wipe his cum off of your face. “Fuck me, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, hey,” you chuckle, grabbing the fabric from him to wipe away the remnants of his seed before you look at him lovingly. “I’m okay, baby, don’t worry! I enjoyed it, did you?”
“Of course!” he replies immediately, his grin matching yours. “I didn’t enjoy it, I fucking loved it. You’re a menace for this birthday gift.”
“I’m glad! But—“ You give him a kiss on his lips before wiggling out of his embrace to reach for the box on the ground, picking it up before you hand it to Aemond and crawl back onto his lap. “Happy birthday!”
“A gift?”
“It’s not something huge, just a little thing to remind you how much you mean to me!” you explain, watching how he pulls on the ribbons of the box and takes the lid off before his gaze softens as he looks at his gift.
He pulls a polaroid out; it is a picture of him with his siblings and you at Daeron’s fourth birthday, grinning at the camera with cake smeared all over your faces. He then reaches for the book inside the box, huffing out a small laugh when he finds out which book it is — the philosophy book of Maester Orwyle, identical to the one you poured coffee on a few weeks ago.
“I hope it’s not too cheesy, but I thought—“
He silences you with a deep kiss, one of his hands going to the back of your neck, pressing your lips further to his as he moves them in sync. Aemond licks your bottom lip, flipping you over so he can hover on top of you with your lips still locked until you part them and let his tongue slide against yours, exploring your mouth.
“It’s amazing, darling,” he says, looking at you with a softness he never knew he could muster, but the adoration in his gaze is evident, and the warmth that drips from his look is enough to melt your worries away.
“There’re still some pictures left in there! Come on, look at them.” You bite your lip, suddenly remembering how you called him a nickname that is probably too soon to say, averting your eyes from his face to look down, finding him fully naked. “And put your clothes back on! Unfortunately your dick is talking to me and we’ll be suspicious if we take hours to join the family.”
“Magic dick, huh?” He drops next to you on the bed, pulling on his pants before he lies back down with the box on his chest, pulling another polaroid out. “Oh, fuck you, why did you choose this photo?”
“Because! Look at you! It was the time you wanted to dye your hair with Helaena—“
“I hate you—“
“Na uh, you…” You pause, looking at him with soft eyes before you distract him from the unfinished sentence. “You were so cute though! You looked exactly like your Mum with your short orange hair.”
“You are mean,” he whines, looking back at you, finding you lying on your side as you smile at him. “I don’t think I can ever get tired of seeing you like this.”
“Like what?” You cuddle closer until your faces are inches away, your noses brushing against each other as he looks at you as if you have hung the sun in his sky.
“Like you feel safe and happy with me.”
“I am safe and happy with you.”
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“Happy motherfucking birthday, you giant lizard!” Aegon whistles, earning a pinch on his side from Alicent with a disapproving glare. “Sorry, Ma, but look at him! Twenty-six years old and still a long way to go to be as cool as his big bro.”
“Ignore him.” His mother walks towards Aemond, putting her hands on his shoulders to pull him down in her arms, hugging him tightly. “Happy birthday, my darling boy.”
“Thank you.” He hugs her back, smiling softly at her and he notices you and Helaena giggling from the corner of his eye, shaking his head a little before he thanks his mother again.
“Look what we have got here!” Rhaena’s voice makes Aemond and Alicent break their hug, standing next to each other while they watch Rhaenyra and her family walk downstairs. Rhaena takes the lead and walks towards him, pulling him in a quick hug, “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks,” he nods, patting her back awkwardly, clearing his throat as he looks at the family all together, everyone grimacing at each other as if the mere thought of the whole family together bitters their moods.
Jace is next; he congratulates Aemond with a hand on his shoulder, earning a nod in response from the birthday boy. Others do not say much, a cold happy birthday is all. But he can see the malicious glint in Daemon’s eyes when he appears out of nowhere, standing close to Viserys while he keeps his gaze locked on Aemond before glancing behind him, looking at you and Helaena.
“Son,” Viserys nods at Aemond, the room falls silent, no one dares to say a thing, and for the first time he feels uneasy when you walk beside him, trying to act cool and congratulate him, hut his father interrupts you, “A lovely day, don’t you think? We’ll celebrate later at night, come, Rhaenyra I wish to walk outside.”
His half sister and his uncle leave, but the way Daemon shakes his head and chuckles under his breath while looking between you and Aemond makes him uncomfortable, as if he knows something he should not.
“Aren’t you lucky, nephew? You could have had a wife to celebrate with, but now—“
“He doesn’t need a wife to be happy, he has us,” you cut him off, letting Daeron take your place by Aemond’s side as you walk back towards the girls, “He is lucky, we’ll make his birthday one of the most memorable days for him.”
“Absolutely,” Daemon smirks, “I have no doubt it will be a very memorable day,” and with that, he follows his brother outside the room.
“I have something to take care of for tonight’s dinner, I assume you kids know how to take care of yourself,” Alicent says, reaching to give Aemond a kiss on his forehead before she leaves with Cole following her.
“So!” Jace starts, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “What do you guys say to a game of Tennis? We pair up, and I’m sure I can beat your asses one by one.”
“You? Beating Aemond? In your dreams, asshole,” Aegon says, rolling his eyes at his nephew, “But I suppose we can have fun doing this, right? What do you say, birthday boy?”
“I don’t know,” Aemond shrugs and turns to look at you, “Do you know how to play?”
“What do you take me for, Targaryen?” You reply, raising your eyebrows at him, giving him a challenging look which you know he is secretly enjoying, “I may not be of a really rich family but I grew up with Hel. We are quite the pair.”
“Fine, let’s go!” Daeron whistles, throwing his arms around his brothers’ shoulders before the group moves towards the path leading to the courts, the Targaryen twins and Velaryon brothers following you outside.
“Good thing I packed you a pretty little Tennis skirt, huh? I can totally feel Aemond losing his mind just by looking at you,” Helaena whispers in your ear, giggling when you shush her, trying to fight off the smile growing on your lips, “He is so pussy whipped, it’s disgusting!” “Yeah, well, he’s got a really hot girlfriend, what can I say?” you nudge her, laughin quietly before Lucerys speaks up, making your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach.
“Aemond has a girlfriend? When did that happen?” 
Aemond stops dead in his tracks and so does Aegon but with one glare on your way, you and Helaena leave, not wishing to look suspicious. Aemond and his brother turn around to look at Luke, both of them nervous and anxious and with every second that passes, Aemond feels his body tremble more and more.
“I don’t,” he replies harshly, louder than he intended to, and unknown to him, you can hear his response from the distance between you, “I can’t be bothered to be in a relationship now.”
“And that’s none of your fucking business, weirdo,” Aegon jumps into the conversation, giving Luke a sarcastic smile before he forces Aemond to stop glaring at their younger nephew and move away, whispering in his brother’s ear, “Don’t worry, no one knows, yeah?”
“It’s stupid,” Aemond replies, rubbing his hand against his face, “Why should I even think about hiding her, let alone doing it?”
“Because our Grandpa is a pain in the fucking ass,” Aegon shrugs, gently tapping behind Aemond’s neck affectionately, “Don’t worry, bro. You’ll figure this shit out. Just don’t be too touchy with her, ey? It’s just one fucking night, we gonna get through this together.”
“Yeah,” he looks up from his shoes, finding you and Hel waiting for them outside one of the courts, “It’s gonna be a really rough night.”
“Hey,” you say, giving him a questioning look when you notice his tense shoulders, “You okay, Little nerd?”
“Yeah, fine,” he shrugs, giving a soft quick smile before he motions for you to enter the court, a ghost of a smirk making its way to his face as he watches you sway your hips in a very evidently teasing way.
“So! We gotta team up!” Rhaena says, finding the balls and rackets ready on the benches, “obviously I’m with my sister.”
“And I’m with—“
“Me! Me!” Aegon nudges Aemond before he cuts Helaena off and wraps his arms around his younger sister, “We need to kick some ass, sis.”
“Oh, fuck yeah! Let’s show them who owns this place, right, Eggy?” 
“Yup, girl, go get our rackets. We gonna fuck them up so bad,” Aegon laughs when Baela makes a disgusting face at him, walking to the other side of the net, waiting for the first team to get in place, “Who you playing with, birthday boy?”
“Team up with Aemond,” Daeron tells you, sitting on the bench next to the fences, “I’m not gonna play, it’s not in my style.”
“As if you don’t have the most expensive racket among us,” Jacaerys says, rolling his eyes at the youngest Targaryen before he grabs Luke by the shoulders and they go to sit down next to Daeron, waiting for Baela and Rhaena to play with the oldest siblings.
“Hey! I just wanna let Hel’s bestie have some fun!” Daeron throws his hands up, sticking his tongue out for you when you snicker and stand beside Aemond.
“Thank you so much for your generosity, asshole.”
“My pleasure! You gotta have some fun, right?”
“Don’t worry about him, he’s got a mouth on him. I can beat him for you, you know?” Aemond whispers, leaning down so no one hears him.
“Is that right?” You give him a teasing smile, humming and looking up at him, finding him blushing under your gaze, “That would be so hot though. I mean, imagine your brother’s blood on your white Polo Tennis shirt.”
“Actually, I can wipe the blood off with my money. Does that turn you on?” He narrows his eye at you, his silver hair shining under the burning sunlight before he asks you silently to hold his racket before he starts shifting his hair into a low steady bun, making his shirt rise up and you get a really good peek at his abs.
“It does actually,” you reply, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, handing him his racket, “So you better keep your distance from me, I might jump on you.”
“Oh, no, so scary!” he pouts a little, side-eying Aegon and Helaena as they play with the twins, “I desperately hope it does happen.”
“Cheeky brat,” you chuckle, sending him a sly wink, walking away from him towards the benches, sitting down without looking back at Aemond, knowing he will definitely follow you.
“They’re a power couple,” Daeron says, watching Helaena and Aegon argue over the missed shots like kids, Helaena twisting Aegon’s ear with her fingers.
“Nothing beats Aemond and Alys though, right?” Jace laughs, “She couldn’t even swing the goddamn racket! Man, Aemond, you had so much patience with that one.”
You tense in your seat, glancing at Aemond who only looks unbothered by Jace’s remark — silly or not — but you can see it in his eye that there is something brewing in his blue iris.
“Well, lucky us! We have this babe to make up for that witch’s mistakes,” Daeron nudges you, grabbing his cap before dropping it on your head, “She’s a pro! Don’t fuck with her cause she bites.”
“Not that I would mind—“
“Enough,” Aemond interrupts Jace, the icy glare he sent in his nephew’s way is enough to make the young boy shake.
“Ooo, man, are you jealous?” Luke jumps in, snorting when he sees Aemond’s clenched jaw, “I mean I don’t think having a thing for your sister’s bestie is something you should really do—“
“I’m nothing more than a friend to him. I understand him, I think that says a lot about our relationship right? You know, what’s that thing called when you understand someone? When you’re willing to talk and show them you care?” You raise your eyebrows at Luke, leaning forward to look him dead in the eye, before gasping and humming sarcastically, “It’s called empathy! I’m sure the concept is lost on you but not me.”
“Right, kidos! Buckle up, you’re next! We gonna make our birthday boy a sour looooooooooser!” Aegon announces, making his way towards where you are sitting, sweat dripping from his nose on his shirt, “Come on, I’m on the right fucking track, baby.”
“Ew, you’re just fucking disgusting,” Helaena shakes her head at his older brother, “But he’s right. Sorry, ladies, not a fair game I know! A junkie and a professional player make a powerful team.”
“I’m not a junkie!”
“Then prove it or Aemond will beat our asses!”
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“Oh, come on!” Rhaena whines, pulling on the zipper on the side of your dress gently, “This is not just a formal party! It’s Aemond’s birthday, we need to have some fun!”
“And having fun doesn’t mean smoking whatever that is in my room!” Helaena says, clasping her butterfly clips on her wavy hair, the soft, shiny strands falling around her shoulders, “We should take this fun to the boys.”
“Babe, we both know Aegon won’t let us take even one whiff of this if he gets his hands on it,” You chuckle, thanking Rhaena before you walk towards where you have left your heels, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on.
“Actually, I’m just trying to avoid getting high before having a meal with that man,” Hel shrugs, her golden dress hugging her curves beautifully as she twirls and asks for final approval, “besides, Otto and Uncle Gwayne are coming, and I seriously don’t wanna make a fool of myself!”
“You’ll do just fine,” Baela says, putting her hands on her hips, “It’s not Viserys you should be worried about. He can’t do much, but my father? Keep an eye on him.”
“I doubt he’ll do anything irrational tonight,” Rhaena reassures Hel, resting her hands on the silver-haired girl’s shoulder, “He might try to annoy the living life out of Otto but that’s it.” “I just—”
“Darling—Oh,” Aemond barges into the room, lips parted in surprise when he finds you and his sister in the company of his cousins, “Ladies.” “Hey! You probably shouldn’t be here, darling brother,” Helaena says through gritted teeth, trying her best to cover the mess Aemond nearly made, “I’m quite busy, maybe you should talk with her, right?”
“Yes, absolutely, darling sister,” Aemond then looks at you, extending his hands for you to take, and you do, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing out loud, “I just wanted to know your opinion on something if that’s alright.”
“Yes, yeah, perfect! Let’s go,” You walk side by side outside the room, closing the door behind you as you follow him towards his room, not daring to even look at each other just in case.
“You look so gorgeous,” Aemond says, pressing you against the door as soon as he shut it, looking down at you with nothing but pure affection in his eye, “All this for me?” “Yup,” you wrap your arms around his neck, smiling from ear to ear, “Anything for my man.”
“I might lock you up,” he leans down, brushing his nose against you while his grip tightens on your hips, “You look too good to let you leave this room.”
“Isn’t that right? Well, too bad for you, Aemond Targaryen, I’m invited to a very important dinner and it’s my boyfriend’s birthday, he’ll be so upset if you lock his girlfriend up in your room.”
“Will he now?” he chuckles lowly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he starts kissing and nibbling on your skin, mindful not to leave any marks, “poor guy, he doesn’t know I can throw his girl on my bed and fuck her ‘till sunrise. I pity him, truly, you’re even wearing green, my…” “Maybe I just wanted to impress someone,” you scratch his nape, humming softly as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, enjoying the subtle touch.
“Consider me impressed,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your earlobe before he brings his face back up, pressing his lips to yours gently, tasting the sweet lipgloss from your lips, “It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt this happy on my birthday.”
“Even while you were with Alys?”
“What?” he asks, taken back by your sudden question. The only time you have ever mentioned his ex was when you were hesitant to get into a relationship with him, but now, it shocks him to his core, “Why would you say that?” “I didn’t mean it like that, Aemond—”
“No, you clearly have been thinking about her for some time,” he lets go of your hips, stepping back to sit on his bed, “What’s going on?”
“Aemond I…” you sigh, resting your head on the door as you ponder about what to say, “I didn’t mean it like that. Everything is new about our relationship and I… I don’t want to sound bitchy but when they mention Alys…I just feel like there’s a lot that is left unsaid about her and by extension left unsaid about you.”
“I’ve never lied to you, I’ve been open about-about everything! Where does this sudden insecurity come from?” Aemond asks you, huffing from his nose as he watches you scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Insecurity? Aemond, all I meant was that if you felt happy with Alys too! You don’t have to put a fucking mask on when you are around me!” “Of course I was fucking happy!” he yells, hiding his face between his hands, “I wouldn’t think about marriage if I wasn’t happy!”
“But you just said—” “What is this? A fucking trial because I wanted to show I appreciate you and how much I care about you? I just wanted to make you feel special because you are special to me,” he replies, shaking his head before he lets out a water chuckle, “I don’t even know what to think.” “Little nerd, please just—” As soon as you try to reach for him, he stands up, and for the first time you take a good look at his outfit; nothing too special just a dark grey button-up with black pants, but it suits Aemond so well in a way that makes your heart clench tightly in your chest.
“I’m leaving, don’t be late,” with that he leaves you alone in his room.
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Waiting in the corner of the dining hall with a glass of champagne while everyone greets — or tries given the family feud — Otto and his oldest son, Gwayne, is not how you thought your boyfriend’s birthday was going to be spent. 
You try to make yourself as small as you can, not making eye contact with anyone while gazing out of the large windows, waiting for everyone to shake hands and appear happy. 
You spot Aemond on the other side of the hall, giving his Uncle Gwayne a side hug before he steps back, watching as Daeron throws himself in his uncle’s arms. But that is not what catches your attention the most — it is Otto who approaches Aemond slowly, an emotionless expression on his face as he extends his hand for his grandson, waiting for a handshake. Aemond nods and shakes his hand, reaching to grab a glass of champagne himself when the waitress walks past him.
Suddenly, his eye finds you, and you feel as if he’s pulling you in just by a glance. His gaze is drowning in emotions, and even from such a distance you can feel him tugging at your heart.
“Trouble in paradise?” Helaena appears next to you, resting her head on the wall before she reaches and wraps her arm around your middle, “Talk to me, babe.”
“I think I fucked it,” you reply, frowning slightly when Aemond looks away from you, leaving you staring at him.
“Elaborate on that, because we had the same discussion a month ago,” she chuckles but when she receives only a sad smile in return, she grows quiet.
“I brought up Alys again…”
“Fuck her, my gosh, I don’t know why this woman won’t leave us be…” she sighs, grabbing your glass to drown your champagne.
“I think I should be getting drunk not you,” you chuckle this time watching her face twist at the taste of the bubbles, “easy there, soldier.”
“Spit it out, gorgeous, or else I’ll make a fool of myself and we don’t want Mighty Otto busting my ass for having fun.”
“As if he’ll ever do that to you, dumbass,” you thank the waiter when they bring a full tray of champagne for you, and you and Hel both take a glass before you find enough courage to talk about the mess, “You know how I am. I open my mouth and suddenly an intrusive thought comes out.”
“How bad was this time?” She asks, wincing when you bite your lip and shake your head, “Come on, I need to do damage control as soon as possible.”
“He said he’s never been this happy on his birthday for a long time and my stupid ass decided to ask even when he was in a relationship with Alys,” you spit the words out, clearly angry at yourself for ruining the moment, “It’s not just that, everyone around here talks about her. Luke, I think, has caught up on something between me and Aem. But… the comparisons, the hiding… it’s all exhausting even though I understand why Aemond does it.”
“He’s hesitant,” Helaena smiles sadly at you, “This is the first time after the breakup that he’s meeting all these people, especially after Mum found out it was Viserys who sent the paps to the church—“
“What?” You gasp, “I had no idea it was him! That’s so fucked up. Does he know? I mean…”
“He does—“
“Then why didn’t he say anything about it?” You cut your best friend off, watching as her amethyst eyes narrow at you.
“Because! He is hesitant about opening up! Babe, your relationship is new, his wounds are still open and a fucking bandaid isn’t going to stop the bleeding. You need to be patient with him. He likes you, hell he even fucking loves you! But please, don’t do this to him.”
“He basically lied to me— it’s fucking silly, why am I overreacting over my own fucking mistake?” You sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from falling down.
“Hey, hey, sweetie,” she cradles your head in his hands and rests your forehead on her shoulder, “I know how you feel. He’s been nothing but sweet, touchy, and absolutely lovely to you, and you want this to not change in front of other people. But please, he’s got many rumors going behind his back and now if anyone, especially Daemon, finds out about you and him, they’ll start telling people he cheated on Alys and that’s why she left.”
“But that’s not true, she— she left and all she did was use him for his money and status,” You sip on your drink, “I’m not like her, I’ll never do that to him.”
“Babe, I know that, but now? Aemond needs you more than ever, you’re not just a fucking rebound but someone who makes him feel at ease when he is around Aegon because he knows you’ll have his back.”
“Our fight wasn’t even about that… I don’t even know why I brought up Alys and why he got angry.” Helaena rubs your shoulders, pondering over what to say next.
“Okay, look at me,” you straighten your back and look into her eyes, “She is a really sensitive issue to talk about out of the blue. You shouldn’t have said that, I know you know this, okay? Aemond just wanted to spend time with you, and he’s still trying to push his pain down to kind of… I don’t know but he’s trying to run away from the pain and neglect it so you won’t feel like he’s the one using you. That’s why I think he got mad because he’s just trying and you hit him with ‘I know you're lying’.”
“Yeah, we haven’t had the important conversations yet,” you nod, smiling at her, “Let’s see if I can make him look me in the eye for a second so I can apologize.”
“He loves that you are here, he’s happy you are here. Don’t let someone from the past make decisions for you,” she links her arms with yours when she notices everyone is rounding the table to take their seats, “Come, let me introduce you to our uncle.”
“Sure,” you smile at her, walking side by side towards his siblings before finding his uncle; Gwayne, a tall man with auburn wavy hair and warm hazel eyes, and even a warmer smile.
“Well, hello there,” he greets you, reaching to shake your hand before he brings it up to his lips, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Helaena’s friend.”
You notice how Aemond’s eye lingers on his uncle’s fingers on your hand — does he want it to be him who is touching you? Maybe. Probably.
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you say, retrieving your hand and taking your seat by Helaena’s side, Aegon sitting next to Aemond at the head of the table with Baela and Luke in front of them on the other side while Daeron and Gwayne sit next to Hel, Jace at the corner of the table.
“So, before we start,” Alicent stands up, holding her champagne glass in her hand, sighing softly to calm herself down a little and not let her nerves get the best of her, “I wish to raise a toast to my son, Aemond! You… you have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I could have never thought that little boy would turn into this wonderful man. I am glad to see you happy with your siblings and friends, and you will forever be my little boy. Happy birthday, darling!” “Hear hear!” Helaena raises her glass, and so does everyone, and you take the chance to take a good look at Aemond, surprisingly finding him already looking at you. You give him an apologetic smile, hoping he can see the sincerity in it, and to your luck, he does, giving you one of his quick yet soft smirks before he covers it with his glass.
“So, Aemond,” Viserys starts, and with the way Otto is looking at him, everyone can sense an unsettling uneasiness brewing, “how is your wife?”
Your breathing stops for a second, eyes wide in shock as you glance between Helaena and Alicent, both looking just as shocked and paralyzed as you while Aemond only glares at his father, his grip tightening around the rim of his glass, and you wish for nothing more
“Wow, Dad,” Aegon laughs sarcastically, catching everyone off guard, “How thoughtful of you to see if his wife is okay! Wow, I wonder who could have talked you into this,” he looks at Rhaenyra with a sneer shaking his head when he finds her cocking her to the side.
“We broke up—” “No, nephew, come on,” Daemon tsks, feigning disappointment, “Everyone was there! Your dad just forgot how your wife left you, right, Viserys?” “Yes, yes,” Viserys agrees absentmindedly, not even paying attention to the rest of the conversation.
“I’m glad she left, at least someone dared to leave this family,” Daeron mutters, earning a flare from Otto who has been eyeing everyone tonight, “What? Am I wrong?”
“Can we please just… eat something? It’s a birthday for god’s sake,” Alicent says quietly, clearly defeated, “Don’t do this tonight, please.” You sigh, squeezing Helaena’s hand while you desperately wish it was Aemond’s hand to hold on to, to tell him and reassure him that these people are just like that. Unfortunately, you can’t, but the stealing glances you share is enough for now. You will show and tell him about your feelings later tonight.
“I wonder though…” Jace starts, sounding unsure and a bit nervous, “Luke said he saw you kissing someone, Aemond. Why would you hide her from us?” This time, you choke on your food, coughing and trying your best to even your breathing, but it seems with all the eyes on Aemond and his eye on you, your little secret is spilled all over the table. “I’m not hiding anyone—” “After a failed almost marriage, don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious to get into a relationship this quickly?” Rhaenyra adds, looking at Alicent, “Were you aware of this? Because we just got the rumors to cool down, we do not need more of them flying around, butchering the reputation our father has worked so hard for.”
“As if sleeping with multiple men in a ‘loving’ marriage isn’t doing more damage to your precious reputation,” you mutter, anger bubbling inside you like a failed potion, stabbing your steak with the knife in your hand. You have no idea where this courage came from; one second you were choking on your food and terrified of people finding out, the next second you are defending your not-so-secret boyfriend as if your life depended on it.
“Atta girl,” Aegon whispers, but when you look up, it is Aemond who catches your breath away — maybe no one has ever stood up for him so fiercely and that is precisely why he is reluctant to show affection in front of his family to you. 
“My, this girl has a tongue on her,” Rhaenyra doesn’t say anything more than a simple sentence and continues to sip on her drink. “Who is the girl if you are so confident that he is in a relationship?” This is the first time Otto says something, and with how his steel eyes stare back at Daemon, you realize it is a matter of seconds for you to be exposed.
“It’s her,” Lucerys points at you, “I saw them kissing yesterday on top of a horse.”
“How romantic,” Daemon smirks at you before he looks at Aemond, and that is when chaos fucking ensures, “You seem to have a type, nephew; poor, older, beautiful, a runaway bride—” Aemond presses his lips into a tight line, his fist clenching and unclenching as he keeps his gaze locked on Daemon, not even sparing a glance your way.
“Hey,” Helaena whispers to you, grabbing your hands into hers, “You’re not those things, babe.”
“Is it true, Aemond?” Gwayne asks, a small smile on his lips, ignoring his seething father next to him, “Because we will be happy that you have moved on and found joy again.” “Come on, that’s bullshit,” Daemon starts, leaning on the back of his chair, “Does anyone look happy to you here? His ‘girlfriend’ is on the verge of tears, his mother looks like she might die and him? Does he look happy to have his relationship announced? If anything he’s ashamed he’s been caught dating another woman who will eventually leave him—”
Aemond bangs his fists on the table as he stands up, making everyone jump from their seats, but that is it. He doesn’t say a word, just a silent glare that he shoots everyone — even you — before he straightens his back and pushes away his chair, leaving the room wordlessly.
You follow him after a few seconds, gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands before running the path he took outside, finding him entering the field around the lake.
“Aemond, wait!”
He doesn’t listen to you and keeps walking to the edge of the lake,  bringing a hand to his face before he turns around and watches you run as fast as you can with your heels.
“What the fuck do you want?” “Aemond—” you scoff, laughing breathlessly, “What do I want? Maybe I want to talk to my boyfriend who just stormed out.” “Righ, right,” he chuckles but the humor is lost in it, “Or maybe you want to confront me about Alys again, how does that sound?”
“It sounds fucking ridiculous, Aemond—“
“You know what is ridiculous? Us!” He shouts, his voice cracking slightly, “Because however fucked up those words were, they were the truth.”
“You mean when they were insulting me, yeah? When they called me a gold digger?” You tear up a little as you look at him, trying to find a glimpse of your Aemond, “Do you think I will leave you?”
“No, darling,” he shakes his head, and you notice a tear falling on his cheek, “I know you will leave! Because that’s what everyone does! My father left, my brother left for years, my fucking fiancé who I would die for left! Why do you think you’re so special and different from them? You will leave as soon as you are bored of me!”
“Have I neglected you so much that you believe I will just walk away from you? Aemond, we’ve been together for so little time and that still won’t change the fact that I would set this entire place on fucking fire!”
“That means nothing!” He yells at you, walking away with his fingers threading through his hair, “Alys said all those things she still fucking left me! She said she loved me, she showed she cared, even if all of those moments were fake, I still believed her! Why do you think we will make it through this mess without you leaving me?”
“Because I was honest with you from the beginning, I was there for you when no one wanted to be! Your grandpa was fucking with your head about not getting into a relationship with anyone but I stuck with you through all the shit you went through because you mean the world to me!” You sob, trying to make sense out of whatever chaos his family has bestowed upon you
“No,” he shakes his head, walking away from you, “I’m not going to be the one who’s left alone at the end. I’m gonna do the leaving now before you get the chance to do it.”
“Aemond, no, please— I’m sorry!”
But your plea falls silent as you watch him leave you alone with a heavy heart, both of you hurting with each step he takes on the opposite direction.
“Please, Little nerd…”
356 notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 1 year ago
Text
Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
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It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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etherealxwitch · 2 years ago
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Tangerines
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie can’t get enough of how good the reader tastes.
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), oral (f receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling, use of pet names, overstimulation, squirting
WC: 923
(just a longish eddie blurb that i wrote last night, enjoy!)
Remember to reblog and support the author!
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The slurping sounds of Eddie sucking your swollen clit between his plump lips echoed off his bedroom walls. For hours he has been eating you out, making you cum over and over again. He was like a starved man needing to satisfy his hunger. 
You were overstimulated, sore, and a sweaty mess, but god, that didn’t stop you from craving more. Your makeup is a mess, mascara running down your face, and your lipstick smeared. 
“E-Eddie- oh!” You placed a hand on the wall above you, trying to sturdy yourself as Eddie had you sit on his face. Your shaky thighs were pressed against his head, leaving him nowhere to go, though he didn’t mind at all. 
“Right there,” your other hand grabbed his hair, “right fucking there.” 
Eddie gripped the supple skin of your ass, trying to push his face deeper into your pussy. Your taste flooded his tongue, his face soaked with your past orgasms. He was savoring every moment he had you like this. 
“I can’t get enough,” his voice was muffled. He was practically suffocating himself in your pussy. “I want more- need more of you.”
You felt his tongue slide inside you, reaching deeper than you knew a tongue could. Instinctively, you rocked your hips back and forth, riding his thick tongue. “Oh my god- Eddie! Feels so fucking good.” 
Eddie moaned against you, the taste of you enough to have his cock twitching in his pants. He was leaking precum could, he could feel the wet spot form in his pants, but he didn’t care at all. His main focus was you, tasting you. 
He was painfully hard, and needed to cum, but not until he was satisfied that you had enough, not until you had cum so many times on his tongue that you couldn’t anymore. 
His nose nudged at your clit while his tongue expertly swirled inside you. You saw stars behind your eyelids, and your skin felt as if it was on fire from how close cumming to again.
Eddie swatted your ass, feeling it jiggle under his rough hand. You let out a choked gasp from the pleasurable sting and pulled on his hair harder. He groaned against you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body.
“Fuck!” You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I’m so close, please…”
He pulled away for a moment, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “You sure you can handle another one, sweetheart?” His thumb swiped over your clit, and you jumped at the touch. “I know I want more, but what about you?” 
You nodded repeatedly, trying to find the words to tell him just how badly you needed it. 
Before you knew it, Eddie had the two of you flipped over. You were now on your back, your legs bent towards your chest. 
“I need your words.”
You spread your legs further apart for him, a silent beg for him to keep going. “Yes, just- please! I need more! I’ll take whatever you give to give to me. You know I will.” 
Gently, he kissed up your thighs, stopping to blow cold air against your exposed pussy. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”
His eyes were dark, but glazed over from being so drunk on your pussy, his lips swollen, and his chin glistening from how sopping wet you were as you watched him plan what to do next. Your heart was thumping in your chest, and your face became red under his gaze. 
“I wanna hear you say you’re mine,” his thumb circled your clit, barely making any contact. 
“I-I’m yours, Eddie.” You bit at your lip, watching him drink every bit of your body in. “All yours.”
Your words soaked into Eddie as he licked a stripe over your slit, slowly spreading your lips with your thumbs. He spits on your pussy before he went back to devouring it.
“Shit!” Your back arched off the bed, and you looked down, making eye contact with him as his tongue dove back into you. “You’re so fucking good to me.” 
Eddie shook his head back and forth, making sure his nose was still nudging at your clit in time with the thrusts of his tongue. 
Your chest started to heaven with each breath you took, and you knew you were about to cum. You could feel it in the curl of your toes and the hairs standing up all over your body. 
Eddie knew it was coming too, he could feel it in the way you clenched around his tongue. 
He pulled out his tongue and replaced that empty feeling with his fingers, curling them up. “C’mon, baby, just one more.” 
You could hear yourself gush around the three fingers that were inside you. “Yes, yes, yes!” You couldn’t manage to say anything else, words suddenly escaping you.” 
“That’s fucking it, sweetheart. Keep coming for me.” Eddie took his other hand and rubbed harsh and fast circles against your clit. 
Your orgasm felt never-ending, dripping out of you and making the mattress more of a mess than it was before. You couldn’t take it anymore. 
Eddie noticed just how spent you were, pulling his dripping fingers out of you. 
You whined at the sudden feeling of being emptied and not touched. 
Your eyes focused on Eddie as  he brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean and moaning when your taste hit his tongue for what might be the millionth time tonight. “Mmm, juicy and sweet. Just like tangerines.”
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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 2 months ago
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Cupid doesn’t gamble
Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?
Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.
Word Count: 6,620
A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.
[II] [III]
“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey
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Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.
But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.
Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.
Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.
He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.
And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.
You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.
"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.
“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.
A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.
He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.
"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.
“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.
Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.
"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.
He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.
"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.
You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.
The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.
Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.
"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.
Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.
Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.
He loved it.
"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."
He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.
You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?
Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”
Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.
He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."
Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*
He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.
“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”
He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.
He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."
You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.
Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.
"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?
You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.
He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.
“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.
"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.
In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.
You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.
As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.
"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."
“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.
“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.
He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.
You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”
Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.
He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.
"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.
“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”
Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.
"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.
“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.
It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.
He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.
“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.
He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.
He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.
"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."
The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.
He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.
The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.
"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.
Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.
Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.
“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.
As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?
"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.
Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.
But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.
“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”
He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.
"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.
"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.
Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”
“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.
“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.
Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.
"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.
As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”
Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”
Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.
"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"
He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”
Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”
Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.
With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.
“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.
"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.
As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.
Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.
“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.
“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.
"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.
"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.
“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”
“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.
You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.
Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.
As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.
You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.
“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.
As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.
You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.
“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?
Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.
"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.
Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.
He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.
Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.
"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.
He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.
“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”
But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.
Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.
His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.
"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."
Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.
“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.
He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"
He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”
“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.
Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."
He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.
As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.
"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.
The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.
A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.
He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.
No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.
You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.
He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.
You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.
“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.
Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.
He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."
Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.
But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.
“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.
His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.
But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.
You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.
His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.
But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.
You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.
Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.
He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.
You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”
“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.
He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.
"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."
Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.
“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”
The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.
Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.
But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”
You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?
You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“
He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.
“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”
“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”
“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”
He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”
You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.
When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.
“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.
296 notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 5 months ago
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minted (m) (snippet) | myg
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title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, both versions of yoongi have their own red warning labels smut warnings: to be dropped on drop day but lmfaoooo est. drop date: july 2024! teaser word count: 486 total word count: projecting 15-20k✌️
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With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 
Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back home by now, freshly showered and curling up on your worn bed. 
But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 
Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching diced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 
At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 
Ambiance. 
Wait. 
You can’t pull your eyes away from the group walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun on their clothes and in their eyes. 
But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 
…Yoongi? 
As he gets closer, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do. 
But from the slight confusion pinching his forehead, he didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 
Hold on, what—
“What are you—”
A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 
All of them waste no time rushing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending in with gritty paint and smoke. 
And just like that, your reunion is over. 
Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—
A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 
Shit. 
Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 
Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 
Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.
Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 
Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here?
With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 
Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase.
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tbc :)))
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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist
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a/n: LETS GOOOO WHO IS HYPED BCCC..
718 notes · View notes
aekatty · 6 months ago
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𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓮 ᯓᡣ𐭩
kiss below the line…
a/n: i hate him but at the same i ain’t mind letting him tap 😋 also using colored panels for now cause it’s cuter tee hee
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
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─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
18+ !! MINORS DNI
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
cw: p in v sex, oral sex, afab!reader, reader lowk a top here but sanji gets a tad bit of confidence towards the end, sanji know how to eat that kitty 🙏, reader a FREAK, call this man sanji freaksmoke ong 💀🙏, reader wears a bikini, no set arc, risky public sex, they fuck in a secluded area but still open to public, porn WITH plot
tags ✮⋆˙ smut, afab!reader x sanji, beach date, p in v bby, no set arc - no spoilers
now playing: dive - victoria monét
After a long strenuous journey of hopping from island to island, you suggested the crew stop at a tropical resort for a few days to rest and gather supplies for the Sunny. Liberating islands from tyrannical rule and going against from oppressive government is tiring…Well guess what? It’s time the Strawhats get a well deserved break!
“Hmm, yea sure,” your rubber captain shrugged.
“Wow, you didn’t really think that through did ya, Luffy?”
“No, you’re right. After a long battle, I’m pretty beat plus…”
“Plus?”
“A seafood boil sounds nice,” he laughed as he rubbed his rumbling belly.
Robin chuckled at Luffy’s expression, “Well, since us devil fruit power users can’t swim in the water, I wouldn’t mind indulging in a nice seafood feast cooked by our skillful chef.”
You suddenly see the pervy chef’s nose start to heave heavily, a few drops of blood trickling down his chin, “OF COURSE, ANYTHING FOR THE BEAUTIFUL LADIES OF OUR SHIP!”
His stance takes a 180 as he faces the men of the crew, “The men have to hunt for their own food.”
Zoro looks at him with annoyance, “Hey! Can I at least get some sake?!”
Luffy pouts, “No fair! I want to relax like the girls too!”
“Well, real men hunt for their own food!”
You sighed, “Sanji, relax, the guys worked hard at the last island. Cut ‘em some slack will ya?”
His demeanor changed as soon as you spoke, “OH MY DEAR, [NAME], YOU ARE SO RIGHT.”
“Alright, fine, since we’re going to have a seafood boil, I gotta gather some ingredients.”
“A spectacular feast created by our lovely cook, my mouth is watering just thinking about it, if I had any saliva…YOHOHOHO!”
“Then, it’s settled! Nami, set course for [insert cool island here]!”
“Right away, captain!” The beautiful tangerine-haired girl yelled back.
————
The summer sun shone upon the golden sand, the crystal blue water crashing upon the shore as the coconut trees swayed to the calming wind. The resort is occupied by many beach goers as children ran along the hot sand with beach balls, men clinked their beers, and ladies were served fancy mojitos. The smell of grilled meat lingered the air as barbecue parties took place nearby.
You reveled in the moment until hearing your captain’s booming voice destroy your peace of mind.
“WOOHOO!”
“LUFFY, DON’T GO IN THE WATER, YOU CAN’T-”
The rubber boy struggled to keep afloat in the water has he gargled for help, “HELP! HELP!”
“swim…” You facepalmed.
“I got it…” The green haired swordsman immediately dived into the water before rescuing your struggling captain.
“Captain, be more careful, will ya?”
He coughed up seawater, “Bleghhh, Zoro, I might throw up on you…”
“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!”
You decided to sit with the girls when the blonde cook approached all of you. He sported black swimtrunks, along with a half-opened tropical shirt while holding a tray full of orange cocktails, “Well, ladies, can I interest ya’ll in some ‘Sex on the Beach’ drinks to quench your thirst?”
The black-haired vixen smiled, “Thanks, Sanji. You really know how to read our minds.”
“Wow, these look refreshing, as expected from our cook!” Nami took a sip of the alcoholic drink.
“No kidding, I was starting to feel a bit parched myself,” you smiled.
Sanji covered his nose to prevent a nose bleed from coming out, “Ladies, Ladies, no need to thank me. Just doing my job.” He smiled to himself as he replayed the compliments in his head.
You looked at him with concern, “Hey, Sanji. How’s ingredient gathering going for ya?”
“Huh? Oh, I’ve been trying to catch some fish and crab for the last 30 minutes but I think the amount of people here are scaring them away.”
“Hmm, hey! I can help you look for a secluded spot for fishing!” You cheerfully suggested to him.
“Oh, I can’t let a lovely lady like you get up and help me out like this!”
You chuckled, “No worries, I’d rather walk around then sit down doing nothing.”
“Well…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have extra help.”
————
You sealed the bucket full of prawns before setting it aside and sitting down on the dampening sand, “Wow, we caught a lot today! We’re gonna be eating tonight, aren’t we?” You looked at the remaining gold rays of light slowly disappear in beyond the horizon.
He laughed at your amusement, “I should start cooking soon if we’re gonna serve this on time for the crew to start feasting.”
You attempted to carry the heavy bucket of freshly caught prawns, but it proved to be difficult with the sandy environment preventing better movement in your legs.
He noticed your struggle with the filled container, “Need any help?” He walked towards your sinking figure in the moist sand, lantern in hand to illuminate the darkened atmosphere.
“Ah, no, no! It’s ok!”
“Come on, [Name]. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“No, really, I can manage-”
“I’ll just grab this part-”
“Sanji! It’s gonna-“
Splash
“…fall,” your once dried figures now soaked with sea water as both of you guys fell backwards into the incoming waves — his trembling body loomed over yours, salty droplets falling onto your face.
The sound of your increasing heart beat pounding in your ears from the closed distances between your bodies. Your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his toned abs up close to your face, despite the evening darkness sweeping in to mask the dimming sunset.
You were embarrassed to admit it, but you always had a slight interest in the blonde cook. Sure, you were a little annoyed by his flirtatious attempts and his slightly pervy behavior — yet, in his times of seriousness that complimented his cool, stoic character, it was…quite attractive.
The amount of times you caught yourself staring at him as he cooked the crew’s meals with rolled-up sleeves, or chilling on the ship while lighting the butt of his cigarette. You had to resist the urge to bite your lip then and there.
But, seeing him on top of you while half naked and wet took the final slice of the cake.
“O-oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should’ve listened to you-” The blood rushed to his cheeks and ears to form an embarrassed blush before lifting himself off you.
“Hot damn….” You muttered to yourself.
“Uh…what?”
“Um- Uh, nothing,” you shot him a sheepish smile before lifting yourself up. “It’s all good, I should’ve just accepted your help,” you laugh awkwardly as you drag the fallen bucket.
“Ahem, that would’ve been awkward if anyone in the crew saw us,” he brushed his hand through his blonde locks before searching his pockets for his cigarette box.
You suddenly halt your process of dragging the prawn bucket, an invisible lightbulb lighting upon your head. You turn to the chef before smirking at him,“I wouldn’t mind giving them a show.”
You could practically see his eyes bulging out of his sockets at your flirtatious manner. Who knew the pervy cook would get nervous by one of the only girls in the Strawhats? You wanted to take advantage of this sudden burst of confidence…
You walked up to him, his face producing a red hue on his cheeks as he watched your figure close the proximity between you two. His heartbeat increased at the sight of your practically bikini-clad body swaying in the moonlight. He clutched the cigarette between his teeth…
You look up at his flustered face before stealing the lit cigarette from his lips, a seductive tone poisoned your words, “Can we stay here for a bit?”
The nervous cook gulped, “U-Uh um…why?”
He watched as you took a drag out of his own cigarette before putting it out — He never found anything so sexy in his life; not even when he saw a naked Nami back in Alabasta before.
You harshly pushed his toned figure onto the dry sand before noticing the now obvious bulge in his pants. You were quite pleased by the outcome of this situation as you watched the cook fall to his knees for you — he relished in the sight of you using him. It was kind of different from the way you seen him with other girls. Slowly, you hovered over his body; his eyes glued onto your bikini-covered chest as he felt his mouth become dry.
“I think you know the answer, Sanji…”
————
A needy moan escaped from the cook’s mouth as you caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongue ravaging with his as you grinded your clothed heat on his crotch. His body had become so turned-on from your sudden dominant nature, your touches like a tempting devil.
“[Name]…fuck,” his hands moved to your hips as you continued dry humping his erection.
You caught his lower lip between your teeth, “You’re so fucking sexy when you say my name like that, wanna scream it more for me?” You watched his body shutter as you exchanged the movement of your hips with your rubbing over his hardened bulge.
“A-ah shit, mon chérie, quit teasing me…”
You bit your lip as you continued your edge on his clothed cock, ignoring his pleas for your pussy. You relished in the sight of the blonde begging for your attention. You rubbed his erection in a faster pace, grabbing the outline of his size — he groaned at your intense touch.
A sly smirk creeped onto your face as you guided his hand under your skimpy bikini top, his hand instinctively squeezing the soft mound of flesh, brushing over your now hardened nipple. A soft moan left your mouth as you felt his rough hand roll the pearl between his fingers. You slapped his hand away with a smirk on your face.
You slowly shoved two fingers into his mouth, feeling the warmth of his tongue sucking and licking them, “Wanna show me what that mouth can do?”
You remove your bikini bottom, revealing the transparent slick trail of your arousal connecting from your pussy to the dampened cloth. You toss it to the side before hovering your crotch over his flustered face.
You harshly grabbed his face, “Make me cum and maybe I’ll give ya a reward.”
“…Yes, ma’am…”
You cautiously lowered your hips onto his face before you felt strong hands hastily grab your hips and slam you down. A yelp came out of you at the sudden pressure of your crotch rubbing on his face.
The warmness of his tongue desperately overlapping over your needy hole as you bit your lip to conceal the sounds of your impending pleasure. The sound of the crashing salt water colliding with the sand had become quieter as the sun died down and the moonlight became brighter.
The sound of sloppy wetness overtaking your hearing as he fucked his tongue inside you. You face twisting from the overbearing sensation of pleasure took over your body as you grinded your cunt further into his face, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit, the smell of your arousal radiating off your warm body.
He lapped his tongue over your erected bud as sucked you off like a starved man. He groaned as he pulled your hips harder onto his face with need, his grip tightening around you. — He became obsessed with the taste of you and he was wanting more.
He slid his hands over the fleshy mounds of your ass before spreading them apart for better access. The speed of his tongue fastening had jolted the nerves of your body, your back arching from the overstimulation on your abused clit.
“S-Sanji! Oh god, keep going!” You cried out in pleasure. The moist sounds of his mouth connected with your saliva-coated cunt.
“Mmm’ Mon chérie, cum on my face,” he groaned as he swiped his tongue over your pulsating hole.
Your core tightened as you felt your approaching climax form into a pit in your stomach, “Then, you better savor it while you can, Blondie.”
He swore he could’ve felt his cock twitch in his swim trunks at the sound of his nickname slipping from your lips. God, the things you do to him…
You swayed your hips to the movement of his hungry tongue as the muscles of your increasingly tightening before you felt the imaginary coil unravel and relax. Your milky liquid leaking out your pulsating hole, smothering over the cook’s face.
He released the suction of mouth over your erected bud with the sound of a pop. His chin had been covered in his own saliva and your arousal. He huffed and puffed as he caught his breath. The taste of your cum lingered as on his lips as he licked them without shame.
“Good boy, I think it’s time I give you your reward,”you shifted your body off his face, the feeling of the cold grainy sand resting below your knees as you lowered your face over his crotch.
A surprised moan escaped the cook’s tainted lips as you pressed light kissed over his erection, the taste of ocean salt overtaking your taste buds. You could practically feel his wanting cock straining along the restraints of his wet as it ached for your touch.
You grabbed the hem of his trunks, peeling the fabric to reveal his touch-starved cock — it had a slight curve to it, the circumcised tip supporting a swollen redness as it leaked precum, his shaft with a few veins trailing down to his nicely-groomed happy trail of blonde hair surrounding it, his balls desperately awaiting to be emptied from all the edging you did to him.
“Nice cock, dude.”
“Haha, very funny, [Name],” he sarcastically rolled his eyes.
“I’m being serious, Sanji,” you swipe your index finger over the dripping slit of his tip.
A grunt escaped his lips as you flicked his sensitive cock in a teasing manner; Your hand running down his shaft before slowly fisting his cock in your hand. That fucking smug smirk painted on your face that drove him insane the entire time.
Your hand moved up and down faster as you watched his face twist from pleasure, his body jerking from the sudden jolts of electricity running in his body from your touch — You swiped your tongue over the flushed head, savoring the taste of the transparent liquid as you continued your pace on his shaft. A sharp hiss escaped through his teeth as you rubbed and squeezed his sensitive balls in the process; god, he was about to burst then and there.
He gripped the sand below him as you brought him to the edge of his orgasm, you enjoyed the amount of overstimulation you brought to his cute face as his curly brows scrunched together in pleasure. You bit your lip as you felt his cock twitch in your hand before-
“Sanjiiiii! [Name]! Where are you?? I’m hungry!!” You hear Luffy’s voice in the distance.
The cook looked back at you in horror, in fear that both of you guys were about to get caught by your captain. Luckily, you were out of sight from your rubber captain due to the steep rock wall that separated you and Sanji from him. You shot him a devious look as you continued your movement on his needy cock, “Gonna answer?”
Oh, fuck you.
“W-We’re still busy fishing so g-go away!” He yelled back with nervousness.
He bit the inside of his cheek as you engorged his cock into your mouth, the salty taste of his precum filling your taste buds as you slobbered over the tip and shaft.
“Well, hurry up already!!” the hurried tone of your captain’s voice echoing in the distance.
The cook groaned in annoyance, “SH- SHUT UP AND BE PATIENT OR ELSE ITS VEGETARIAN FROM NOW O-ON!!!”
“AGHH FINEEEE…”
A small snort escaped through your nose as you heard their short banter. Sanji was such a cutie patootie when he got mad at the crew you thought to yourself.
That’s probably why you enjoy seeing the cook moaned and whimpered as he submitted to your touch, wanting more of your attention from you. <3
He felt as if he could cum to the vibrations of your gagging alone as you struggled to swallow his cock whole, hitting the gag reflex that sat in the back of your throat. What didn’t help was when you caressed his swollen balls, squeezing them as if they were putty in your hands. They tensed at your touch as they added onto the ongoing stimulation on his messy cock.
He bit his lip while grabbing tufts of your hair as he felt the euphoric climax slowly creep towards his tip as you continued sucking him like a summertime popsicle.
Just when he was about to release his seed, you halted your action; releasing his cock with a pop as it bounced towards his abdomen. His cock twitched with impatience as it awaited more of your stimulation. The tip redder than before as it begged to release its seed.
He huffed, “Mon chérie…wha… what are you doing?”
You hovered over him before whispering in his ear, “I’m gonna ride you, that’s what i’m gonna do.” You bit his ear before aligning yourself over his cock.
You slammed on his cock, causing both of ya’ll to gasp in pleasure as you felt the gumminess of your walls swallow his size. He grabbed the fat of your ass as you bucked your hips up and down.
“Oh god! Oh yes!” You cried out as you felt him match his hip movements with yours.
Your pussy was practically a perfect mold for him as you sought to reach that euphoric feeling of edging to your arrival. You became obsessed with the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix as each thrust became deeper and rougher. You swore you saw a tear well up in his ducts as you watched his face become a moaning mess.
“Hah, oh fuck! K-Keep going at this speed, I might cum inside you…” He squeezed your ass harder as he kissed and sucked the skin on your collar bone.
“S-Sanji- hah!” You felt his lips lick the soft flesh of your chest as he moved his hands towards the underside of the fabric triangles, pushing them upwards to reveal the dark pearls of your cherries.
“Sanji!” You screamed his name as you felt the warm sensation of his tongue lap over your erected nipples. Now you’re the one being a victim to overstimulation.
He groaned as he made out with your right nipple while pinching your left one, the friction leaving you speechless as you were left in a moaning mess. He clenched your the soft mound as he felt your moist walls squeeze around his cock.
“You’ve been teasing me this whole time, I couldn’t help but retaliate…” He left your right boob with purple marks around your now tender nipples. He shifted his attention towards your left boob as he sucked and bit your dark pearl, enough to send electricity towards your pussy.
“Mmm’ you taste so divine, Mon chérie…This is way better than some seafood boil.” He loved the way you clenched on his cock as he sucked your sensitive nipple.
No amount of crashing ocean waves nor the sound of seagulls squawking under the illuminated night sky could muffle out the sounds of sloppy slaps and moans of the heated moment you both shared. You cried out his name in hiccups as he continued the movement of his hips guiding his cock towards your cervix, increasing his speed.
“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji…i’m gonna cum!” You were going dizzy at his hypnotizing movements.
“Fuck, me too…Can I cum on that pretty face of yours, Mon chérie?”
You nodded as you felt that familiar tightening feeling in your abdomen of your impending orgasm had . The thought of releasing on his cock was racing in your mind as you wanted to savor the sensation the next time you had the “urge.”
You gripped his shoulders as you arched your back to the ripping feeling of your toe-curling release, a cry for pleasure escaped your lips as you felt your abused walls clench around him. — thick, white…it poured from your used hole as it coated on his twitching member, waiting to come as well.
He groaned at the sight of his cock being covered in your slick, like a used sex toy. He fisted his cock, your cum serving as lubrication to relieve himself.
He chanted your name in mutters as he took in the sight of your fucked-out face, sporting a tomato red and a trail of saliva dripping down your chin as you huffed and puffed for air. His hand instinctively stroked faster as the aftermath of your face around him even more. He let out a groan as he felt the nerves in his shaft jolt as ropes of hot cum spurt from his reddened tip.
You smirked as you watched the white fluid land on your face along with your hickey-covered chest. You didn’t want to lie when you felt surprised by how much spilled out of him—embarrassing amount continued to drip onto the sand from his now sensitive cock.
You bit your lip, “Didn’t tell me you had that much in ya.”
His face became flushed, “It’s not my fault, I was pent up from how much you edged me today!”
“You’re really hot when you’re hard at work, I couldn’t help seeing you in such a submissive state,” you stuck your tongue at him.
His heart skipped a beat at your embarrassing words, “MY LOVE, I’LL LET YOU DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY.”
And…he’s back to his usual self.
The chef’s ears perk up as he hears rustling from the nearby coconut trees. You noticed his reaction before your attention redirected towards the origin of the sound.
“What the hell, where am I?
The mosshead looked towards your direction as he noticed the two figures in the distance, immediately recognizing the both of you.
Both you and Sanjj’s mouth dropped open before you guys scrambled on the sandy floor, readjusting your swimsuits and jumping in the cold salty waters to wash off the evidence. In the back of your mind, you wanted to cry of embarrassment; the thrill of almost getting caught was exhilarating itself. However, getting caught a a different story.
“Go away, moss head! We’re trying to fish in peace over here!” The blonde cook yelled at the swordsman.
Zoro smirked, “You sure this is fishing, cause last time I checked, you’re supposed to have your clothes on.”
Both you and Sanji looked at each other with an embarrassed blush on your face before quickly diverting your faces knowing the opposite direction.
“Zoro, you can’t tell anyone…” You softly pleaded.
The swordsman yawned, “I don’t really care, I was tryna find curly brow since Luffy was getting antsy about the food.”
“Oh and I was wondering where you kept the sake.”
The cook facepalmed himself, “You fucking drunk…it’s in the wine cabinet now go away.”
The swordsman yawned again, “Wow, thanks I guess. I’ll let yall do your thing but hurry up cause the captain looks like he’s about to munch on our emergency food (chopper).”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll get started once [Name] and I bring our shellfish catch back to the ship.”
You sighed in annoyance, “Let’s just get out of here.”
As the three of you walked back, the little devil on your shoulder caused you to land a nice smack on Sanji’s ass. He turned around with surprised look on his face while rubbing the impacted area. You shot a smug smirk at the cook before doing the “p in v” gesture with your fingers.
He smirked before giving you a wink. You quietly giggled before whispering in his ear, “Let’s do this again, but more private.
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