#This was the first thing that came into my mind right after going home from the theatre | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamitv · 4 months ago

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▷ What You Need

Sypnosis . In which your dad, who’s worked closely with jujutsu sorcerers his entire life, finally allows you to meet his best friend— who’s half-curse, half-human, and 100% your type. / Pairing . dbf!Choso x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, age gap (reader is 20 & Choso is like 150 lol), jjk au, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, etc), dry humping, teasing, reader’s pretty blunt, dirty talk, Choso is so soft with the reader, heavy tension, filth, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie, semi-soft sex, semi-rough sex, overstim, etc . / wc . 10k (heh..)

A/N: I can’t even explain where this idea came from. Just know I was listening to ‘What You Need’ by The Weeknd & then my mind went from there. If you have Daddy issues, you’re welcome. [MDNI]

You wanted to fuck him.

Plain and simple, straight to the point, your first impression of your father’s best friend was that you wanted to have sex with him. Unfortunately for you, the problem with such fantasies was that you had a boyfriend at the time.

A really really shitty one but, still. You were in a relationship when you first met Choso. And you remember meeting the man so clearly too— partially because you ran right into him, and also because one conversation with him had you forgetting your sorry excuse of a boyfriend’s name.

——

You were yawning as you glided down the flight of stairs of your home with your phone in your hand, the smell of coffee simmering into your nose, and a deep unfamiliar voice heard coming from your kitchen.

And to think you nearly regret coming home to your father’s estate for the summer. You’d left all your friends in the city just to come out to the countryside and spend time with your parents. More specifically, your father.

The first week home you were bored out of your mind. The most exciting part of your day would be a lengthy phone call with your best friend about whatever drama you’d missed out on while you were out of town.

Your mother was out on a business trip and your father spent most days holed up in his office despite pleading for you to spend the summer home. The days dragged on and the hours felt endless.

Up until a rather particular Friday morning.

Time and time again over the years, your father had always mentioned one name when it came to his friends; Choso Kamo, his best friend. For whatever work-related reason, your dad always told you that you weren’t allowed to meet the guy. And yet, something had changed— apparently, the man needed a place to stay for a few months.

And yeah, sometime throughout Thursday night you briefly remember talking to your father about meeting the mysterious ‘Choso Kamo’ the next day but, you didn’t expect to run into the guy first thing that following morning.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen as you’d carelessly waltzed in, large hands latching onto your waist from the initial contact of your forehead meeting his chest, and husky deep tone hitting your ears with a sexy, “Woah,” The man uttered, causing your body to tense up from head to toe, “Careful, sweetheart.”

His voice was heavy in such a low purr, prompting a chill to slip down your spine before you angled your head up to look at the source of such a tone. An immediate lump was caught in your throat and you think you forgot how to speak properly because you’re blurting out a startled little curse before you even realize it.

“Sorry I-, damn.” You breathe out in reaction to the man in front of you.

His hands, which you’re only just now realizing are at your sides, are steady to leave you after assuring you’re not going to fall forward. The deepest set of dewy brown eyes settle on your face and you think you’re in love. Dark bags from lack of sleep weigh sexily beneath his low-lidded eyes, a jet black shade of ink is printed across the bridge of his nose, not a single blemish in sight, and a sweet yet masculine scent rushes into your nose all at once.

It was as though God decided to deliver an angel directly to you in the form of a very very attractive man— only thoughts of sin clouding your mind as he tips his head to the side and studies your face carefully, the messy strands of hair at his forehead swaying slightly with his little movement.

And then this man, whose skin noticeably has a deep red undertone, has the nerve to smirk at you. Pretty plump rose-tinted lips curve so suavely that you’re staring way harder than you meant to and watching his mouth move as he says something to you once more.

Although, you don’t hear a thing he says. You’re in a daze, stuck staring so rudely at his lips and how perfect they appear until your name is said.

You flinch and lift your gaze to meet his, “H-Huh?” You stammer, getting flustered all over again by the intense eye contact.

He lets out the softest little chuckle and you can feel your heart swooning, “I asked if you were alright,” The brunette repeats for you, studying your eyes closely, “You walked right into me so…”

“I-I’m fine,” You stutter before clearing your throat and taking a slight step back to gather yourself. That rich scent of cologne oozing off of his body was making you dizzy with desire, “Sorry for walking into you.”

That smile on his face only seems to grow softer, “It’s alright,” He says, soon extending a hand out to you, “I’m sure your father wanted to introduce us to one another but, this works too. I’m Choso-“

“Kamo,” You finish for him as you meet his hand with your own, shaking it firmly, “I-, wait,” You can finally feel the thumping of your heart settling down— meaning you can return to a proper reaction to that information, “You’re my dad’s best friend?”

Choso gives you a little nod, “I am,” He hums before eyeing you up and down, “And you’re…” His eyes freeze somewhere for a split second but then he’s snapping them back up to your face, “A lot older than I thought.”

Your brows pinch together, “I’m sorry? How old did my dad say I was?”

“That’s the thing, he didn’t say at all. I just assumed you were a little girl,” He admits, finally retracting his hand from yours after becoming overly aware of the way your thumb was slipping across his knuckles while you shook his hand. “And as we can see,” He lets off a little scoff, “You’re far from that.”

The way your eyes widen at that has him rushing to correct himself.

“Well, n-not that that’s a bad thing, I just-, I mean, you’re a grown woman and I wasn’t expecting that,” Choso manages out quickly.

Then you’re chuckling and it’s like a sweet melody to his ears, his entire facial expression simmering to a look of ease. “It’s okay, I know what you meant,” You tell him, flashing the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever set his eyes on, “After all, I was expecting an old wrinkly man but no, Dad brings home some 6ft sex symbol with tatts.”

His brows meet for a second as he bats his lashes at you as if to see if you were gonna realize what you just said. Little did he know, you’re aware of what you said and you meant every syllable— boldly making your attraction to him known from the very beginning.

And maybe that was where it all started. Maybe that was the calm before the storm of whatever it is you’d call the things you and Choso experience over the remainder of the summer.

Because after that little encounter, you and Choso get along a little too well.

——

The first day was a breeze. After getting friendly with one another in the kitchen, you were sure to skip over to your father’s office and inform him of having already met his best friend so he wouldn’t try to awkwardly introduce you two later.

Your dad made sure to ask you how you felt about his best friend staying there for a few months— to which you explained that you didn’t care too much, you’d be leaving back to the city for school again in like a month and a half so who cares?

That, and why on earth would you complain about that sexy curse living just down the hall from you?? Which was another thing in itself, you were aware of what he was, your dad briefly explained it to you before which is all the more reason why you expected some old wrinkly person.

As such, you needed to express your infatuation to someone as soon as possible. And what better victim than your best friend back in the city?

Now laying on your stomach across your old bed, your legs swing back and forth in the air as you thoughtlessly chat it up with your friend, “No, you don’t get it. He’s sooo hot,” You exclaim for like the millionth time since the call connected.

She chuckles from the other end, “Girl, this is your sixth time reminding me within the past thirty minutes, I think I get it.”

“But you don’t,” You whine dramatically, “His eyes, they’re so pretty, the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen-, ugh,” Your face drops down into one of your pillows for a second as you smile to yourself and recall the countless times you and Choso have made eye contact, “And the way he smells— like fuckin’… roses or something, but roses in the middle of a dark rainforest with-“

“Okay, okay,” Your friend laughs, “We get it. He smells good. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me about how you want this guy, who’s probably in his forties, to fuck you on the nearest surface as soon as possible-“

“Yes,” You huff, “Yes, I do. I want him to fuckin’ ruin me.”

The sound of your friend scoffing can be heard, “Uh, I think you’re forgetting something.”

Your face scrunches up, “What?”

“You have a boyfriend,” She scarcely reminds you, her tone light and gentle with you.

To which you roll your eyes, “Oh whatever. You mean the same ‘boyfriend’ who cheated on me two months ago? The same asshole who I’ve given chance after chance even though he treats me like shit? The ‘boyfriend’ who took like two hours to make me cum that one time? The guy I literally told you I’m gonna break up with soon??”

“W-Well,” She lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah… that asshole. I know you’re leaving him soon but please don’t go fucking your dad’s best friend before you break things off with him-“

“I’m not stooping down to his level, don’t worry,” You hum softly as you flip over to lay on your back, “Though… I did consider it.”

“Seriously?” She scoffs in surprise.

You nibble on your lower lip and smirk, “You don’t get how hot Choso is.”

Your best friend chuckles, “Girl.”

“I’m jus’ saying! I can’t even think of any other guy when he’s around. He’s so…” As you continue your ramble about the small crush you’ve developed for your father’s best friend— you’re completely clueless about the man having heard almost everything.

Choso wasn’t spying on you or anything, he was simply walking down the hall and happened to hear a thing or two since your door was left cracked open. And sure, he took the slightest peak inside to spot you resting atop your bed but he was about to walk away until he heard you describing him.

Of course he was inclined to stop and listen to you ramble about his appearance— he thought it was cute. He’d seen how you’ve been looking at him anyway, he’s not dumb.

The problem is that you’re his best friend’s daughter. The last thing he should be doing is taking any kind of romantic or sexual interest in you. You were off-limits in his mind.

Or at least, you’re supposed to be.

——

But God do you make things difficult.

You and Choso share your small interactions in the morning usually, asking each other how you slept and whatnot, basically making casual small talk every morning. You learn more and more about the man, asking him questions about what it’s like being half-curse and half-human, questions about his cursed technique and the things he can do.

Most of which he waters down for you since, even though your father’s a part of the jujutsu sorcery world, you aren’t. You know a few basic things like how cursed energy works but that’s about it so Choso keeps his answers to you very simple.

That aside, you are a goddamn enigma to Choso. He’s always caught between wanting to stare at you for hours on end and knowing he shouldn’t have his eyes on you for longer than five minutes because then his mind’s drifting elsewhere.

But again, you make it so fucking difficult.

One hot Tuesday morning, Choso notices he hadn’t run into you in the spacey kitchen of your father’s estate yet. He was busy making the same coffee he prepares daily, wondering what time you were gonna make your way downstairs. He can’t lie to himself, he has grown quite attached to your little morning talks with him.

Tapping his fingers across the counter as he watches his coffee brew, his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a splash. Lifting his attention, Choso glances back over his shoulder to the direction of which the sound came from— looking out the large sliding glass door that leads out to the pool and wondering if your father was out there or something.

To his everloving surprise, the source of that sound is anything but your dad. It’s actually you, swimming around peacefully until you’re floating toward the edge of the pool, right in Choso’s line of vision as you lift yourself up.

Everything moves in slow motion like some cliche film, Choso’s eyes widening at the water rolling down your body and the goddamn bikini you have on. Holding yourself up on the edge of the pool, not yet exiting the small body of water yet, Choso finds himself studying every inch of you (that’s visible at least).

And then, as you finally push up, there’s that natural arch in your back that has Choso swallowing-, no, gulping down something thick in his throat. His lips are parting and he’s letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was keeping in as he watches those small droplets of water glide down along your glistening wet skin.

And fuck when you’re out of the water and you lift your arms into the air to stretch, your body on full display to the man— slick with water, exposed skin sparkling beneath the morning sunlight, and that bikini leaving hardly anything to the imagination.

Choso has to physically fight himself to rip his eyes off of you, turning back to the coffee in front of him and clearing his throat. The image of you in that bathing suit is doing wonders for these wandering thoughts he’d been trying to avoid. You were so wet— literally soaked before his very greedy eyes, your entire body dripping in sex appeal, and the sight of you like that steadily rushing heat down to his c-

The sound of the sliding door opening makes Choso flinch like crazy. He lets out a little huff and glances back to see you with a towel now wrapped around your waist.

Your tits were sitting so prettily in that bright red bikini top-

“Morning’ Mr. Kamo,” You greet sweetly as you enter the kitchen.

Choso gulps down his nerves, “Mornin’ princess,” He says casually whilst moving to grab his mug of coffee.

That little pet name he’d randomly picked up for you somewhere along the line makes your heart warm every time you hear it. A smile forms on your face as you approach his side and glance around his little setup for coffee making, “Aw, you didn’t make me one this time?” You say with a little pout on your face as you glance at him.

He shrugs, “Didn’t know you were up yet.” Then Choso avoids looking in your direction at all costs by turning to the other counter to grab a spoon, “What made you go for a swim this early?”

“I dunno but,” You hum, following right behind him and approaching his side once more as you watch him stir nothing into his coffee, “You should join me next time.”

He swears his entire body heats up as you say that. Just the thought of being in the pool with you, hardly clothed, swimming together, and wetting each other up makes his mind spin. “Dunno if that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” Choso says casually, as if he wasn’t having thoughts of pressing you against one of those poolsides and-

“Hm?” You bat your lashes up at him and he glances at your face for a split second before ripping his eyes off you, “Why not?”

“What would your dad think?” Choso sighs, continuing to stir nothing into his coffee as if that’ll help him forget about you standing half-naked beside him.

You scoff, “Nothing? It’s just you and me swimming together.”

Choso rolls his eyes at your innocence, “Alone,” He adds on, “Me and you swimming alone together.”

“Are we supposed to have an audience?” You tease, leaning closer to him and entering his peripheral line of vision, “Or, are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”

He freezes, slowly turning his head to look down at you, “Not at all,” Choso quickly tells you, “Being alone with you like that is just…”

Your eyes widen slightly in anticipation and he can feel his body warming again. Then, you glance off to the side innocently, “…Tempting?” You offer.

To which he answers without thinking, “Exactly.”

You part your lips to say something snarky in response but he’s moving away from you yet again. Cursing himself mentally for letting that slip. He didn’t want you to realize he was growing just as interested in you as you were him.

Then, with perfect timing, your father comes from around the corner with his mouth wide open as he lets out a hefty yawn.

“Mornin’ you two,” Your dad grumps as he shuffles his feet toward the fridge.

Choso had somehow made his way to the island in the middle of the kitchen already, now sitting comfortably on one of the three bar stools, his eyes low on his phone screen as he lifted his cup to his lips, “Good morning.”

Your eyes are directly on the man as you replay his response to you moments ago over and over in your brain. The nerve he had to go and sit down casually as if he didn’t just he didn’t just imply something very-

“Daughter,” Your dad sighs out, to which you snap out of your daze and glance at him.

“Father,” You hum in response.

He looks at you, sending you a kind and tired little smile, “I’ll be gone for a few days for business, you okay with that?” He asks, subtly nodding his head back at Choso and silently asking if you’re comfortable being alone for a few days with the man.

Of course, you have to physically contain your excitement— being alone with Choso means no more interruptions like what had just happened, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.” You say with a little shrug.

Your father nods at that and then tends back to the fridge to prepare himself something. You smile to yourself before tiptoeing your eyes back over to Choso, only to find his eyes already on you.

All of you, drinking in the sight of you in that damn bikini top before he boldly and directly cracks a lazy smirk and lifts his gaze to your face. You can feel a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he tilts his head and sends you a little wink from across the kitchen— bluntly letting you know that he’s thinking the same thing you are and your excitement is mutual.

——

Day one alone with Choso was actually really fun. The two of you spent time together in your father’s massive basement, lounging around together and even indulging in a friendly game of pool.

It was nice, comforting even, to have Choso around. He was very respectful and kind with you, subtle with flirting with you because he didn’t want the true levels of his desire to be known, and so gentle with you that it made your heart turn to mush every single time.

Day two was even better. You both finally went on that swim you offered— to which you nearly drooled when he first stripped himself of his shirt, eyeing his washboard abs that were decorated with such pretty scars from previous fights he’s had.

The two of you just swam and talked, you’d splash him a bit every now and then and he’d splash you back whenever you uttered something way too flirtatious.

At some point you felt like that was his way of turning you down. Sure, he was interested in you but, Choso had his way of silently telling you it wasn’t gonna happen. Or at least, it shouldn’t happen.

Day three was when things changed. Well, night three specifically.

Choso was in the kitchen, where the two of you always seem to run into each other, sitting on his favorite bar stool while working on something on his laptop until he heard you coming downstairs. His ears twitched and he glanced up to see if you were coming into the kitchen a few times, noticing your steps sounded oddly determined.

When you do enter the kitchen, the enter mood shifts. Choso opens his mouth to greet you since it’s past midnight and he hadn’t seen you in a few hours but he freezes when he sees the look on your face.

Flushed and fuming with emotion, your breathing unsteady and ragged as if you’d been crying, and your hands shaky as you make way for one of the wine cabinets. He almost doesn’t move. Choso sits there in shock for a minute, watching you rush to grab a glass and a bottle of alcohol at random, slamming it down on the kitchen island and moving to find something to open the bottle with.

It’s then that Choso’s standing to his feet and walking toward you, “Hey, hey,” He coos, seeing the frustration in your face as you jerk a drawer open with an upset pout on your face, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” Choso asks as he nears your side.

You don’t even look at him, pulling your lower lip into your mouth and biting back tears. “I-Isn’t it obvious?” You snap back in an annoyed tone, responding to his first question and first question alone as you swipe up a corkscrew out the drawer and push it shut with your hip.

Then you shuffle back over to the island where your unopened bottle and wine glass are sitting. Your hands are shaking due to the rush of adrenaline throughout your body and Choso follows your every move, standing to your left as he leans against the counter and tilts his head at you.

He carefully moves to slide the bottle of alcohol away from you, which earns him an angry glare from you. Choso only grins kindly at your expression, “Aren’t you a little too young to be drinking?” He teases.

You scoff, in no mood for his teasing right now, “Oh fuck off, I’m twenty years old.”

“I know,” He says calmly, his tone as soft and sweet as ever, “But the legal age for drinking is twenty-one, no?”

“Depends on where you live,” You huff, reaching for the bottle once more only to receive his hand being placed over yours.

You freeze and Choso tilts his head a little more, “Talk to me, pretty,” He hushes out, inching closer to your ear and furthering the softness of his deep rich voice, “What happened?”

You can feel yourself melting at the warmth his body brings as he gets closer to you, your breath hitching slightly due to his attentive curiosity, “My… My boyfriend jus’ broke up with me,” You grit out.

He can tell you’re more upset than you are saddened but either way, he wants to help you, “The asshole you told me about?”

“Uhuh,” You nod, making a small attempt to pull that bottle toward you again.

Choso smirks and his fingers weave through yours slightly before pulling your hand away and pinning it to the counter, “So talk to me about it, princess,” He hushes out, “The last thing you need is alcohol right now.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds before you sniffle, relaxing under his small touch, “Well… I just, I hate feeling like this.”

“Like what?” He whispers, carefully rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand.

“I was gonna break up with him but he fucking beat me to it and now I just-, I dunno, I feel like shit,” You huff out before you slowly turn your head to look at him again.

Your eyes are all glossy and your lashes are noticeably wet, a small tear slipping down your cheek. Choso moves without thinking.

Taking his hand off of yours and bringing his palm to cup your cheek, watching you lean into his touch as he thumbs that tear of yours away, “You feel like shit?” He repeats.

Nodding against his hand, you mumble a little response, “M-Mhm.”

“I’d love to say you shouldn’t but,” His gaze kindly flicks back and forth between your left and right eyes, “I understand. Break-ups are hard.”

You pout, “They shouldn’t be. He was fucking terrible to me. I was supposed to break things off, not him. H-He doesn’t get to just do that. It’s not fair.” Your voice comes out in a slight whine at the end and he can see your eyes glossing over again.

“I know, I know,” Choso coos, bringing his other hand to your vacant cheek and cupping your face in his big hands.

“Do you?” You unintentionally huff out to him, “Have you ever even-“

He scoffs playfully, “Yes, princess. I’ve had multiple relationships in my lifetime.”

You snort, “‘In my lifetime’, you make yourself sound old as hell,” A slight grin forms on your face amist your sorrows and it makes his heart churn.

Choso’s gaze rakes over your face in his hands, “Baby, how old do you think I am?”

“I dunno,” You shrug, “You look like you’re not even a day over twenty five.”

He smirks, “Do I?”

“Mhm. How old are you?”

“A hundred ‘n fifty.”

You choke, “Holy shit, seriously??” You gape as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah…” Choso trails off for a moment, tipping his head to the side, “Does that scare you?”

You almost laugh at that, “What? No, I love older men,” As you say that, there’s almost a look of bliss on your face.

To which sparks Choso’s interest as if he hadn’t picked up on that fact a long time ago, “Oh?”

“I-I mean-, wait,” You stammer, looking away from him, “N-No-, actually, yeah… I meant that.”

“Careful,” Choso says simply, “You’re gonna make me think the wrong thing if you speak like that.”

Slowly, your eyes trail back over to him and he removes his hands from your face, “Would that be so bad?” You murmur, leaning closer to him ever so slightly.

His eyes bore directly into yours, “Yes. You’re my best friend’s child.”

Your face twists up, “Yeah but I’m not literally a child.”

“I know-“

“So don’t treat me like one,” You cut off, gazing intently up into his mesmerizing brown eyes.

His look softens, “I’m sorry if I have.”

“Don’t see me as one either,” You continue, earning a light scoff from his lips.

Choso shrugs, “I don’t.”

“You don’t?” Your eyes widen slightly and the room feels so unbelievably warm right now.

“Never have,” Choso admits, licking his lips for a moment before continuing, “Even though I should be.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?”

He flashes a small smile, “I’m literally seven times your age.”

“So?”

“So this-,” He gestures between the two of you, “Whatever ‘this’ may even refer to, is horribly wrong in so many ways.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “But ‘this’ isn’t anything yet.”

“Yet?” Choso echoes.

“Oh c’mon, Mr. Kamo,” You purr, “The only reason we haven’t given in to what we both want is because I had a boyfriend.”

“Choso,” He corrects, “I’ve told you to call me Choso.”

Your gaze becomes noticeably sultry as you lower your eyelids and soften your voice, “I know, sorry sir.”

“Stop that,” He huffs, glancing off to the side.

You lean toward the direction he’s looking off to and fein innocence, “Stop what, sir?”

“That.” Choso rasps, clearing his throat seconds later to collect himself.

“Why?” You urge, inching closer and boldly speaking your mind, “Does it turn you on?”

He scoffs but you see his lips twitching into a smirk, “No.”

Growing curious, your brows pinch together, “Wait, does anything turn you on?”

“Huh?” Choso breathes before looking at you.

“Like, since you’re half-curse… does that affect your bodily functions or anything? Can you even get aroused-“

He lets out a chuckle in reaction to your ignorance, “Yes, yes I can.”

“Really?” Sparkles seem to light up in your eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m more human than I am curse.” He states simply.

You smirk, “Everywhere?”

“Yes, everywhere.”

“Like… even your c-“

“Yes.” He cuts off, “Now stop it.”

Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth, “Stop what?”

“Trying to get me to have a sexual conversation with you,” Choso says in a commanding tone before taking a respectful slight step back.

“I want a lot more than just a conversation,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Choso becomes cold with you in an instant, “And I don't care, it’s not happening.”

At that, there are several twinges in your heart. You grit your teeth and turn for that not-so-forgotten bottle of alcohol, quickly popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. Then, before Choso can even react, you’re gulping it down and he’s sighing in defeat.

After which, you send him an annoyed glare and he frowns softly at you, “Princess-“

“Don’t call me that.” You cut off curtly, licking the bit of liquid intoxication that rests on your lips.

His eyes flicker down for a split second, “Why? ‘Cause I won’t fuck you like you want me to?” Choso asks boldly.

“I-, yeah…” You utter, “Y-Yeah. That’s exactly why I don’t want you to call me that.”

He shakes his head softly and moves to push the bottle away from you again, “I told you alcohol isn’t what you needed.”

“What I ‘need’ won’t let me have him,” You say, pouting yet again.

Choso sighs as he returns his eyes to your face, grinning at your expression as he lifts a hand to your chin, “You don’t ‘need’ me.”

You lean into his touch instantly, “I do-“

“You want me,” Choso corrects, his gaze narrowing on your mouth as his thumb wipes up a small slip of alcohol that missed your lips.

“No” You huff, tipping your head toward his thumb and pushing your lips against the pad of it, “I need you.”

The man can feel his resistance thinning, “You need me?” He echoes lowly, his voice dropping suddenly.

“Yes, I-“

“Need me to what, exactly?” Choso’s thumb applies slight pressure to your lips before he’s parting them and feeling against your lower lip. Then, before you can even answer, he’s looking into your eyes and leaning close to you, “Hm? Need me to fuckin’ ‘ruin’ you?” He quotes.

You were too caught up in experiencing his teasing to realize he gave away the fact that he heard one of your previous phone calls, “Please?”

“Say it,” Choso whispers as his free hand slips over to your waist.

“I need-“

“Want.” He scolds, weighing your bottom lip down a bit.

You whine, “But-“

“Speak properly to me ��nd I might give you what you want,” Choso says.

You perk up at that, “I want you to ruin me, Choso.”

He takes a deep breath and leans in, “I shouldn’t.” The man whispers to you.

Your eyes are lowering to his lips, “But you want it to,” You point out, yearning for the soon connection of his lips to yours, “I know you do.”

“You don’t know anything,” He argues.

“Choso, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from the moment you first set them on me.” You refute in a low whisper

“I…” He trails off— refusing to deny or agree with that.

The way your arms unfold and you slowly bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning in and tilting your head, has him in a trance, “Just take me.”

He chokes, “I won’t.”

You scoff, “Then I’m turning back to my drink…”

“No. Instead,” Choso swallows thickly and retracts his hand from your face. “We can do something else.”

You miss his touch already, “Like what?”

“Watch a movie.”

“We both know exactly what that’s going to lead to.”

It’s then that he seems to finally give in, “Let it lead there then since you want it so bad.”

——

And that’s why you don’t regret coming home for the summer. Because how else would you have ended up like this?

Yeah, you and Choso watched some random movie together to get your mind off things but, just like you’d said— you both knew what it’d lead to and it did. After the movie, you find yourself asleep, all your emotions and adrenaline having caught up on you.

The thing is, you fell asleep on Choso. He was right there with you, deep in his slumber just as you were for a while. So perhaps that’s how you ended up the way you are now.

Both of you had woken up to your body right in front of Choso’s. He was laid out against the stretch of the couch, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the armrest of the couch. You both woke up at the same time and you were lying on your side.

He had an arm around your waist and his crotch was flush with your ass. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him and he met your gaze intimately. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow, leaning in toward you, moving a hand to angle your head up some more, his thumb gently rubbing against your chin.

“Choso,” You whispered, earning a groggy little hum from him.

His eyes lower on your lips. So soft, they look so fucking soft. He’s always thought that but the closeness right now and the dim lighting coming from the TV was killing him, “What?” Choso whispers, “Y’still want it?”

You shake your head, “Not ‘it’ Choso, you.”

He gulps and begins to inch his face closer to yours, his breath carefully hitting your lips as he whispers to you, “You sure? Once we start… I won’t hold back.”

“Don’t want you to,” You utter, trying to lean up to him some more.

He smirks at that, “Alright…” Then his lips are practically on yours, “Jus’ remember you asked for this.”

That’s the last thing said before he’s kissing you, lightly too. Choso’s always so gentle with you as if he fears you’ll break.

And hell, maybe after tonight you will have been broken. Because what starts out as a slow testing taste of lips, soon turns hot and needy. His tongue glides past your moist lips, eager to taste you, to feel you, to make you feel good.

Then his hand is sliding down your body, ghosting your chest before he pulls away for a second to whisper, “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah…” You utter, trying desperately to place your lips back on his.

He smirks, “Where?”

“Everywhere, Cho. M’all yours,” You claim.

Choso groans as his lips press into yours again, his hand sliding down just to slip under your shirt and grab a very firm hold of your breast. His touch is gentle for a second but then he’s squeezing the fat of your boob in his hand, his lips slipping over yours eagerly.

He’d only pull away for air for a split second before he’s sucking on your bottom lip again, intertwining his tongue with yours, and shifting his hand under your bra to wrap his fingers around your perky nipple. He gives the sensitive bud a small little pinch to test the waters and grins at the way you whine.

“Like that?” He whispers gingerly into your mouth.

You nod and the rest of your body is simply squirming against his, his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants at the way your ass rubs against him just right. Choso rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, pressing his erection against you and nibbling on your lower lip hungrily.

Your mouth was so damn sweet— he just couldn’t get enough. Touching all over your breasts, pinching and lightly tugging at your nipples just to feel you moan against him. Then his hands, which are just so big, simply knead your breast within his palm as his mouth slides off of yours and he begins kissing your neck.

“You’re so tense, sweetheart,” Choso whispers into your skin, his warm breath tickling your neck, “Relax f’me.”

You let out a small sigh, “I’m tryin’…”

He smiles against you, “You nervous?” Choso asks as his hand slides out of your bra and rests against your stomach.

“No,” You huff.

Then, Choso’s moving to sit up and you move with him. He slips back against the armrest of the chair, his hands going to your hips to pull you on top of his lap with your back still facing him.

Choso’s hand trails to your stomach once more as his lips near your ear, “Lean back f’me, baby.” He guides, feeling the way you do just that and rest yourself against his chest, “There you go,” God his voice had you soaked, “Lemme take care of you, princess.”

You gulp loudly at that, your breathing beyond unsteady as you comfort yourself in his lap. His chest is so firm against your back, the feeling of his heart pounding within his ribcage so vividly felt behind you— he was just as anxious and nervous as you were. Cute.

His lips meet the space just behind your ear and his hands slither around your body. Choso carefully positions his fingertips at your inner thighs, “Do I have to guide you through everything, hm?” He hums playfully.

“N-No but,” Your eyes are glued to his big veiny hands playing with the skin of your legs, “I like the way you talk me through it.”

“Yeah?” He hushes out, “Alright then, go ‘head ‘nd spread your legs for me, pretty girl.”

You’re so horny you can hardly think straight. The air feels heavy and every touch from the older man has your skin tingling and your pussy pooling. As your thighs part, Choso’s quick to move his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you by running his fingertips under it.

“Tha’s it,” He purrs, “So good f’me.”

Your hips lift involuntarily as if to force his fingertips where you want them but he moves to grip onto you.

Choso snickers at your eagerness, “Patience, baby. I’m tryin’ to take my time with ya’,” He admits, pressing his lips into the crown of your ear, “Wanna show you what sex is supposed to feel like.”

“H-Huh?” You gape in a breathy tone, “Choso, y’know m’not a virgin, right?”

He grins, “Mhm, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow for a bit,” He explains lowly, steadily pulling your shorts down as you help him with small wiggles of your hips, “Plus,” His middle and ring finger inch toward your panties, lips curving into a smile at the noticeably damp red fabric, “I gotta prep you anyway.”

You scoff, “For what? Is your dick that big?”

He shrugs, running the pad of his middle finger over your clothed center lightly, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Choso promises.

Then, he’s tugging your panties to the side, biting his lip as your cunt is exposed to him. Choso’s such a tease, caressing your soaked hole but not yet pushing his fingers in, kissing the side of your neck as he taunts you until you’re whining for him.

“Cho-“

“Two hours, right?” He suddenly asks. Your brows furrow and he senses your confusion, smirking slightly, “Your ex, he took two hours to make you cum one time, no?”

“I-,” Your jaw drops slightly as Choso easily draws his finger up to your clit, tracing soft circles around it, “H-How do you know about that?”

“Heard you talkin’ about him a few weeks back,” He whispers to you, “S’kinda sad, y’know. Two hours?” As he casually converses with you, his finger is providing you with slow stimulation.

You rest your head back against his shoulder, “Uhuh… he couldn’t figure anything out.” You explain as a pout pulls at your lips.

For whatever reason, that seems to boost Choso’s ego a bit. As such, his fingers dip back down and finally start pushing into you, “Oh yeah? Bet I can make you cum in two minutes.”

A brief chuckle leaves your lips, “He said the same thing…” You huff.

To which Choso scoffs, delving his fingers deep past your folds and groaning at that slick squelch that enters the air. “He’s not me, princess. Listen to how wet this pussy is f’me already,” The man taunts as he works a careful pace inside you, “So tight too… shit.”

The first moan you let out makes his cock twitch against your ass. Your lips part and you let out heavy breaths as Choso fingers you skillfully, talking you through his every movement.

“Tell me somethin’ baby,” Choso says, pushing another finger into you and curling his fingertips upward against your gummy walls, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

You pant, “Hah… U-Uh, I dunno…”

“Oh c’mon, don’t lie t’me,” He scoffs. He can’t help but watch the way his fingers disappear inside your cunt, your slick coating his skin and making the most obscene noises imaginable.

“Maybe last week,” You eventually utter in response to him, words coming out all in one short breath.

His cock is felt throbbing against your ass, hips rolling up slightly for the slightest bit of friction, “Yeah? Who’d you think about when you touched yourself? Hm?” The curse asks.

“Y-You, Choso,” You admit honestly, recalling the week prior when you had the man in mind as you relieved yourself.

He lets out a throaty grunt. The thought of you touching yourself to him was making his tip drip excessively within his boxers. “Mmh. Thought about me?” Choso huffs, fingering you a bit faster now as he searches for a particular spot.

When he finds it, you moan, “Yeah.”

“Fuck…” Choso groans against your ear, “Thought about me doin’ what? This?” He emphasizes his words with a firm rub of his fingertips against your sweet spot and watching your sloppy pussy drip off of his knuckles.

“Yes Choso,” You gasp with your back arching off of him.

He bites his lip, “Anything else?”

His two thick fingers pick up in pace, pumping deeply in and out of you and earning pretty moans from your moist lips. You were losing your mind. Choso’s fingers were so damn skillful and deep inside you, dragging his touch all along your walls, and digging into your g-spot over and over again.

“I-, ah… I thought about you-,” You mumble in between your moans, “Mmgh, f-fuckin’ me.”

“Where?” He purrs, his fingers swiveling inside you and making you gasp loudly, “How? Gimme details, pretty.”

“E-Everywhere-, fuck, right there… ‘Specially the kitchen, wanted you to bend me over the counter so many times…” You whine, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.

He places a small kiss on your cheek and whispers, “Shoulda’ said somethin’.”

“You wouldn’t have done it,” You argue through slightly gritted teeth.

As you do so, your hips are lifting to meet his fingers while they thrust inside you. Your moans become more constant, more confident even, as he explores your pussy with his two fingers.

“I might after today,” Choso hushes out before pulling his fingers out of you for a split second just to deliver your cunt with a messy little slap that has you spasming.

“Please,” You mewl, your legs threatening to close on him as he rubs his fingers over your cunt in a sloppy manner, smearing your sappy slick all over the same place and making even more of a mess of you.

“Hey, keep these thighs open,” Choso huffs, landing yet another light smack onto your pussy and watching the way you quiver and clench around nothing, “M’not done, c’mon.”

Then he’s stuffing you full of his fingers again. In and out and in and out— so melodically pressing against your g-spot and then spreading his two fingers apart inside you, invoking a gasp from your throat, “Feels so g-good Choso.”

“So keep feelin’ it then,” He smiles, “Stop runnin’ from it, baby, give it t’me.” Choso requests.

And he knows you’re getting close, he can tell by the way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers back in every time he tugs them out, the way you’re moving a hand to cling onto his arm, and then there’s your legs struggling to remain open for him.

Not that he minded anyway. Choso had no problem with forcing your legs to stay open for him, it was cute watching the way you squirmed and the constant rutt of your ass against his achingly hard dick was what made things better for him as well.

“Cho,” You whimper as your back arches off of him yet again, your toes curling when he hits this particularly sweet and juicy spot inside you.

“Gonna fuck you real good after this,” He speaks right into your ear with that deep husky tone of his, his words making your pussy clench even tighter around his digits, “Ruin ya’ jus’ like you want me to.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, “Please.”

“Look at me,” Choso directs, earning a steady turn of your head. As your eyes meet his, his fingers curl against you, “There she is, such a pretty girl.” The man whispers, watching your jaw drop and listening to the moan you breathe out in response.

“S-Stop that,” You pout, batting your lashes at him.

He chuckles, “Stop what?”

“Bein’ gentle with me.”

Choso almost scoffs, his fingers digging into you, “Why? It turns you on.”

You can’t even think straight enough to respond properly— your legs trying to shut on him again and your reply coming out in a lazy, “Nuh uh…”

“You’re so cute,” The way he’s talking to you, holding you, looking at you, it made you want to just melt away.

Your body was so damn hot, you could feel a coil in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm neared. Shit, he knew how to hit every spot inside you with ease. So much so that even his palm was pressing against your clit and providing you with even more stimulation to the point where your eyes were lulling back.

“Shut-, ah, mgh-, fuck. S-Shut up,” You blurt out in between breathy moans.

Choso’s eyes lower on your expression, “You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”

All you can do is nod, “Uhuh..”

Then you’re losing it again, seeing stars as he moves his free hand to roll a finger over your clit raw. Choso’s voice is rough with you, “Gonna cum f’me?” He asks, and you’re nodding desperately before he lets out a lower rasp of, “Say it.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands mindlessly move in an attempt to push his away so you could fucking breathe for a moment, “Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine.

“For who? Say my name, baby.” Choso orders with his fingers moving in and out of your cunt faster and faster, the sounds only getting wetter and wetter.

“For you, Choso,” Your voice is hardly even there but it’s loud enough to satisfy him, “Gonna cum f’you…”

He leans in a bit and looks you dead in your eyes, slamming his fingertips deeper and deeper, “C’mon then, give it to me. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. It felt so abrupt too, as if he hadn’t been coaxing you to that point anyway. Choso’s fingers are digging in and out and in and out, his pants hitting your lips as he softly rubs his hard cock against your ass. Your legs tried to close on him but his arms wrapped around you prevented you from doing so, both of his hands firmly stroking you through it.

Then there was the eye contact, intense gaze pouring into yours as you came around his fingers with a whiny cry of his name. “Good girl,” Choso praises, “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me— makin’ a pretty mess ‘round me like that. Think you can gimme another?”

“Choso,” You puff out, shaking your head no in response.

He just grins at you, “Jus’ one more baby, one more. Promise.”

——

That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. ‘One more’, yeah, and then he’s asking for another, and then another, and then another.

At some point, you could hardly move because of how intense your orgasms were, making the filthiest mess around his fingers and on his hands, and grinding against his hard cock as you cried out his name for what felt like hours. Choso had you geeked, high off of your own arousal because even though you were whimpering about it being ‘too much’ your pussy was singing an entirely different song.

Literally. The sloppy squelches from your cunt made Choso so unbelievably hard. He couldn’t wait to have you on his cock, whispering in your ear about how deep inside you he’s about to be, telling you to just give him one more so he can have his way with you, and rubbing himself against you so he doesn’t lose his damn mind.

He swears he almost came in his pants from just fingering you alone, especially when he brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth and fucking tasted you. The groan he let out came straight from deep within his stomach, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach.

Followed by that was him sucking your juices off his skin and then moving to your ear, “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Choso practically moaned before moving his fingers to your lips, “I don’t wanna be selfish with it either so, here, taste y’self f’me.”

You gradually take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them tentatively with Choso’s eyes all over your face. And you suck on his fingers so skillfully, sliding your tongue in between them, taking them deeper into your mouth and almost into your throat, and even gagging against them.

“Fuck,” Choso breathes, his cock on the verge of nearly exploding in his pants. “B-Baby…” He pants.

With his fingers still in your mouth, drool slipping down your chin, “Hm?” You hum innocently.

“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’m gonna embarrass myself.” That was his final warning to you before he was snatching his fingers from your mouth and quickly moving his hands to your hips. Choso pushes you forward slightly and he suppresses a whine, soon placing a hand on your back, “Do me a favor ‘nd bend over f’me.” He requests.

You don’t hesitate to do just that, lifting yourself off of him and then leaning your upper half down against the couch, arching your back, and parting your legs for the man. Choso felt like he could cum from the sight alone. Your pussy was on full display for him, your thighs wet with your own cum and sweat, red panties still tugged to the side, and legs spread just for him.

Then Choso moves to his knees, positioning himself behind you as he rushes his sweats and boxers down— bulging cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen. He had precum dripping from his fat tip, his veins twitching, and his entire cock hot with an aching need.

You barely look back at him for a second, only for your face to be pushed back down to the couch as he presses his leaking tip against you. Your pussy lips twitch around his thick cockhead, feeling him rub against you as Choso groans.

“Too long,” Choso whispers, “We waited too long for this.” He starts rutting his hips forward ever so slightly, teasing his tip in and out of you as he tests your tight ring of resistance. “S’gonna be a big stretch, baby,” He warns, trying his hardest not to just ram himself inside you all in one go, “Need you to relax f’me, alright?”

If anything, you wiggle your hips back against him and force more than his tip inside you, moaning against the couch cushion your face is still being pushed into. “I can take it, Cho,” You whisper, “Jus’ give it t’me, please. Fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to start pushing himself inside you, immediately tossing his head back at your pussy gripping onto him, and tugging him deeper inside your warm entrance so damn welcomingly. He tries to go slow as he hears you hissing at the sheer stretch his big cock causes, your fingers curling against the couch and your back arching even further.

But the way your cunt just swallows and sucks him in has him letting out the prettiest groan you’ve ever heard from a man. There’s a tinge of a whine laced within that groan of his, feeling your saturated walls squeezing around his hefty shaft has Choso panting as he pushes into you. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early so it doesn’t take much for him to just snap his hips forward.

Ripping a moan of his name from your throat, you feel all of him poking just everywhere. Choso’s cock is so damn big and thick, curving into that syrupy spot his fingers were teasing moments before. He reaches the hilt of your cunt with ease and watches the way your legs quiver.

“Choso,” You’re practically drooling into the couch whilst he reels his hips back and eases them forward again.

He lets out a loud huff that fans over you as he leans forward a little, pressing his hands into the cushion beside your sides, “So fuckin’ tight, mgh.” He grunts from behind you, “Been holdin’ out on me, huh?” Choso suddenly comments as he tilts his head and peers down at the sexy curve of your arched back.

You shake your head stupidly, “N-Ngh.. n-no,” You murmur softly, “Been tryin’ to… mgh, give it to you…”

“Yeah?” Choso smiles while slamming his hips forward a little harder than before, “You’ve been tryin’ to give this pussy t’me?” He huffs out with a heavy thrust.

Your jaw falls open, “Uhuh, but you k-know that, Choso.”

His smile widens a bit when he recalls the countless times he rejected your advances, “Hah, maybe…” As his worlds trail off a bit, his focus goes to your ass and the sexy recoil that’s caused every time his toned pelvis meets your ass.

Everything about you was so sexy, his hand instinctively lifting to land a harsh slap on your ass. Cock plunging in harder-, deeper, you found your legs quaking with every thrust and your eyes glossing over completely.

“Ah, oh fuck-,” You choke out as his achingly hard tip narrows in on your g-spot, hammering into you mercilessly.

Choso lets out a heavy breath of air and grabs a handful of your ass, glancing down to your sloppy folds, taking his glistening cock so well over and over. Inch by bruising inch, your cunt swallowed him gratefully every time he fed it to you.

“M’not gonna last long, baby,” He soon admits to you while his eyes roll back at the way you’re clenching around him simply because of his voice alone.

You throb at that, “H-Hngh.. you gonna cum s-soon?”

Choso nods almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, been holdin’ it in.” He explains to you before grabbing a firm hold of your hips and pinpointing his hips, sharpening his thrusts, and thrashing his throbbing cockhead against your dripping pussy.

He was addicted. He didn’t even have to finish yet to know he was never going to get enough of this— enough of you. All he can do is think back on all those times he could’ve flirted with you, and could’ve brought you to this very moment sooner.

Like that morning when you came out of the pool, Choso knows he could’ve found a moment alone with you. He could’ve seduced you just as you did him, found any worthy surface to hoist you up against, and then fuck you to tears in that slutty bikini of yours.

Thinking back on it now, the bikini you wore then resembles the lace red panties that are hanging off of you by a thread right now, messy tugged to the side, and soaked with your earlier orgasms and wetness.

Choso’s so lost in his head, he doesn’t realize he’s drilling his cock into you, fucking you down into the couch and nearly making you lose the arch in your back.

You let out a broken cry of his name, “Ch-Choso-, oh.. fuuck, m’gonna cum, Cho.”

His brows tense and he settles both of his hands on your hips, tugging your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Again, princess? Gonna make a mess on my cock? Hm?”

“Mhm,” You mumble, practically clawing at the couch to hold yourself stable as he pounds into you.

Then he’s reaching for your hair and a moan is ripped from your throat as he tugs your head back, furthering your arch and making your legs go numb with the way you could feel his heavy girth in every corner of your sappy pussy.

Lips parted, eyes rolling back again, and legs shaking, you let out a cry of pleasure as you come undone before it even registers to you.

Choso’s in your ear all of a sudden, “You feel so good,” He grunts, gifting your cunt with another hard thrust, “So fuckin’ good.”

His other arm wraps around you and sneaks down to your clit, causing your entire body to spasm against him. “C-Choso-, s’too much, hahh… p-please,” You’re whimpering, feeling an entirely new sensation build up whilst he rubs his fingers over your clit.

Then he’s jamming in harder, breathing hot against your ear, pulling your hair firmly, and even giving your cunt light smacks as you suck him in just as he’d secretly always imagined you would.

Grunting against the shell of your ear, Choso’s fingers pick up the pace on your clit and he grinds his fat tip against the spot that has you seeing stars, “Feel that?” He whispers, “Feel me in there, pretty girl?”

“Choso,” You squeak, “I-I’m… mmgh, f-feels different, Cho.”

“I know baby, I know,” He hushes out so softly despite the complete contract of his mean cock fucking you full beyond belief. “Want you to squirt f’me,” Choso coos, “Think you can do that? Hm?”

You’re shaking your head no, your body feeling as though it were on fire with how hot and overwhelmed you were by pleasure. To which Choso simply chuckles, his dick aching for release.

“Please?” He begs quietly, “I need it, princess.” He sounds so sweet and soft but it’s completely opposite to the way his cockhead is stretching you open from the inside out.

“Want,” You correct breathily as if to mock him from earlier.

He flashes a fucked-out little smile, “Uhuh, want it so bad,” Choso admits, his thrusts growing desperate and frantic, “Wanna feel it, wet my cock up, sweetheart. C’mon, squirt f’me.”

Your legs are attempting you shudder shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as your eyes cross, “C-Cho-, s’too much, I-I can’t-“

“Yes you can,” He kisses the space below your ear softly, “Jus’ let go for me. Stop runnin’ from it,” The sound of his voice is all you can pay attention to aside from his desperate jabs at your insides, leaving you pooling around his shaft and slicking up every delicate vein that trails along his cock, “You wanna cum, so do it. Cum for me, princess.” Choso groans heavily against your ear.

You are. And then so is he. Both of you reach an entirely different level of orgasm— your body trembles as you make a filthy mess of the couch when you squirt just as he’s requested and he makes a mess of your insides by releasing thick gloopy ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking in every drop with a loud whine of your name rolling off his tongue.

So much so that you’re both collapsing against the couch as your highs die down. His body weight rests on top of yours but you’re shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm too much to care. Choso softly humps his dick in and out of you just to keep his cum from dribbling out of your puffy folds, letting out soft breaths against your skin.

The two of you simply lay there for a while, unable to move for a vast many reasons.

Choso soon whispers a calm, “You okay?” And you hum softly. “Need a verbal response, pretty girl.”

“Yeah,” You practically mouth the word instead of saying it but that’s just enough for him.

Then, after a few more minutes of relishing in what had just occurred— the fact that you slept with your dad’s best friend finally weighed in on you.

Though, you guess you’ll deal with any guilt later. Even though the sound of the house’s front door clicking open from just down the hall moments later was rather concerning…

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readwritealldayallnight · 2 months ago

Text

“And you ladies are goin’ to be alright?”

“Oh yeah, cabbie’s on his way for us. You go ahead and get this one home.” Your friends giggle as they take their turns hugging you goodbye, the process taking nearly ten minutes thanks to the never ending drinks you’ve all had tonight.

It was a rare night out for you, celebrating a friends birthday at a bar with your girl gang. With your busy schedules, it was difficult to find time to get together as often, and when you did, your friends went hard. Shot after shot, drink after drink, you’d definitely been beyond tipsy for a while now.

Simon, who had come to pick you up at the end of the night, was thoroughly entertained by the sight of his intoxicated little sweetheart, all giggly and rosy cheeked. Making sure your friends has their own safe way of getting home, he slipped an arm around your waist, wanting to prevent your stumbling legs from landing you face first on the bar floor, and led you towards the exit.

“Oh my gosh.” You giggle, your own arm trying to wind behind his large muscular back. “Simon I’m so happy you’re heeeeeeere! I missed you so much.”

“S’that right?” He humours you, holding the door open with his side as he manages to steer you out of the building and out to the car park. “You an’ the girls have only been out for a few hours, lovie.”

“Well it was a flew, no a few! It was a few hours too long!” You drunkenly mumbled, making Simon’s smile widen, his mind already going over the different painkillers in your bathroom cabinet he could give you in the morning for the hangover you were sure to get. “A few hours too many, away from my Si guy! I don’t like not being with youuuuuu.”

“I know, lovie, I don’t like being apart either. But you’re allowed to have fun with the girls every once in a while.” He attempted to reason with you, fishing a hand into his jacket pocket in search of the keys. “You had fun, right?”

“Yeeesssss… but I like you! So much!”

“I like you too.” He chuckled at you. “If ya had fun s’all that matters. And I’m here now aren’t I? Said I’d come get ya.” He adds, tightening his grip around you in emphasis, not wanting to shake you too much, unsure as to exactly how many drinks you had.

“Oh my gosh that’s so nice to say…” you began drawling on before your feet came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Simon to stumble forward himself as he stopped alongside you. “Wait…” you mumbled, eyes glancing ahead at the familiar sight of Simon’s truck. “Are you driving me?”

He can’t help but to softly chuckle to himself again, completely endeared by the way drunken you has your face scrunched up in consideration, apparently having forgotten that between the two of you, Simon would in fact be the one behind the wheel.

“I am.” He replies simply, watching you process his words.

“Okay, well, I just need to call Soap first.” You mumble, trying to pull your phone out of your back pocket with great effort.

“What’ya need to call that tosser for?” Simon asked, now the one feeling confused.

“I’ve just never actually written a will, and if you’re driving then I think I should probab- ahh!” You squeal as Simon scoops you up over his shoulder, swatting a large hand against the plump of your behind, covering the short distance to the passenger side.

“Yeah yeah, very funny, cheeky girl.” He says, opening the door and helping you into the seat before buckling you in, a smile on his face the entire time. He comes around to his side and hops in the drivers seat, starting up the engine. As he starts to pull out of the parking and back onto the main road, Simon glances towards your figure huddled up in the passenger seat, already singing along to the first thing that came up on the radio, and wonders to himself just how much you’ll remember in the morning.

The last time he’d drank with you, you were completely out of business the next day, saying that you could hardly remember a thing from the night prior, and even then he wasn’t sure you were as intoxicated as you were currently. Deciding to have a bit of fun and take a chance Simon asks you:

“Hey lovie?”

“Mhm?”

“When I ask ya to marry me, what do ya think you’ll say?”

“Uh, I will say YES! Duh!” You reply, the answer obvious to you no matter what state you’re in. However, because you are in fact drunk, you then add “and then I’m gonna get down on my knees too Si, and I’m gonna give you the best bestest head in the whole world actually is what I will do.”

“Hm, okay.” He answers casually, keeping the urge to laugh contained for a bit longer, wanting to keep teasing you. “And uh, how many kids do you think you’re gonna want us to have?”

“Simon,” you playfully sing song to him, angling yourself to face towards him and reaching a finger out to try and poke his cheek, landing more towards his shoulder. “Do you have feelings for me or something?”

“Or somethin’” he says quickly, “Come on lovie, how many babies am I puttin’ in ya, hm?”

“Mmm, at least two I think. So that at Halloween, Simon oh my gosh, at Halloween! We can do a family costume and all be ghostbuste-”

“We’re not gonna be ghostbust-”

“We will be ghostbusters.” You nod to yourself, glancing away from him as his opinion is no longer valid, before changing your mind and looking at him with all the love you can muster at that moment. “Simon, it sounds like you liiiiiiiike meeeee.” You attempt to tease. “You wanna get married? And have babies?”

“‘Course I do, lovie.”

“You think about that?”

“Every day.”

“Every day?”

“Mhm.” He confirms, sending you his own loving look.

“Well you better get me my ring then mister, cause I like yoooouuu too.” You giggle, before gasping as the song changes and starting to sing along.

He watches you in the passenger seat, a content smile upon his face as he listens to you singing without a care in the world, unaware that Simon has had your ring picked out and purchased since your first kiss. He’s just been waiting for the right time to ask you. And now that you’ve unknowingly given him your own blessing, he’s not so sure he can wait much longer.

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sunnami · 3 months ago

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the 5 times you did (not) love each other and the 1 time you did.

summary. as the title suggests. this one was a request! i hope you enjoyed my version of this anon.

pairing/s. poly!marauders + lily / reader.

wc. 4.1k

tags. hurt/comfort, angst, peter pettigrew mention, not proofread, like seriously, fluff, happy ending.

cws: brief mention of violence and blood.

note: i am alive?? crazy. i began this fic, whilst sick, around august, nursing the worst headache ever. i wrote the middle of this fic, sick. and i think it's only fitting that i finished this fic. sick... honestly, i did not proofread any of this, i just know i lowkey love it. after the first one-thousand words, i just spiral and become delirious, so i don't even know what happened here. my first request finished! yippee! and thank you all for 2k :< i love you all so much.

SIRIUS BLACK did not love you—not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

After Peter Pettigrew’s slight against his family, Sirius would never hold warmth or pity for the skittish mouse ever again. He was played for a fool. And, he did not know which betrayal had hurt more. Peter’s—or yours. (Had you known all along of your adoptive brother’s plans? Did you not think for one second that Sirius would, without a sliver of hesitation, put himself in the way of a killing curse to keep you safe? He’d have died before ever letting the fire in your eyes wither to ashes. Clearly, you did not share the same sentiment.)

He wanted nothing to do with you. Ever. And if the rat-bastard dared to show his face, not even Death would know where to put Peter’s body to rest. Sirius would keep him alive until he begged for death—until the idea of living frightened him more than dying. And for you—beholder of his heart, captor of his soul, and co-possessor of his mind—he could only hope that you stayed far away. You had wrecked him—all of them.

He wanted—

He did not know what he wanted.

For when it came to you, Sirius Black was reduced to a man wandering the deserts—mistaking clouds for water, and the sands for grass blades. You had ravaged every fiber of his being; consumed his every thought and word. The most ironic part of all was that if you had been the one standing there—Sirius would have let you Avada him. Dumbledore could scold him in the afterlife—Sirius could care less. He’d have snapped his wand in half and asked someone else to fight you because Sirius had vowed from the moment he met you that he would never harm a hair on your head. He would never be the reason that tears stained your pretty cheeks.

Well, apparently, trust and promises were not worth a damn thing nowadays.

No, he did not love you—even as you stood on the steps of Grimmauld, your hair ruined by the downpour of rain. Your lips bruised and bitten from a nervous habit Sirius had yet to break out of you.

“I didn’t know, Sirius,” you whispered—your voice the only sound falling on his ears amidst all the thunder and lightning. He only saw you. “Y-You have to believe me. If I knew—Gods, I would have told Dumbledore in a heartbeat. Fuck. I thought you knew me better than that.”

He thought so, too.

“Did you know?” Sirius began, taking a step forward and into the storm, a demeaning sneer on his lips. “That when Voldemort stood in our home, your portrait was right behind him? That was all I could look at. If I had died—you would have been the last thing I saw.”

You had not replied.

Sirius grit his teeth. “Go,” he said, voice hoarse.

“Go!” he yelled, grateful for the rain as it masked his own tears as you flinched from the sound of his voice. Not the thunderclap, the lightning strike—but it was him who scared you.

(But you had done so first.)

When you apparated away, Sirius crumbled to the ground and pounded his fists against the asphalts where you were moments ago, screaming and cursing until he saw blood flowing with the rainwater.

It was laughable, really. The way he did not love you.

It was not love that drove him to madness, pummeling Gideon Prewett into a bloody pulp for mentioning your name during a meeting with the Order. He had presumed you to be a Death Eater alongside your brother—Sirius instantly saw nothing but red. (He condemned Bellatrix, his own cousin, for becoming a madwoman. Yet, here he was, unraveled by the very thought of you. The very whisper of your name.)

But whatever it was that had turned him into a fool and a hypocrite all at once, it was not love.

ii.

JAMES POTTER had no love for you—make no mistake about that. He loved love, and he did so fiercely and truthfully. But you and Peter had broken his trust—defiled his loyalty from the moment your brother had brought Voldemort to his doorstep. (Did you know that as he begged and screamed for Lily to hide with their son, Harry—he thought of you? For a fleeting moment, he saw your face, marked by fear and tear-rimmed eyes. And James knew straight away that he would spit on Tom Riddle’s bare feet if only to keep his family safe. If only to see you once more. Alive and well. But, you must not have thought the same—if you had conspired with Peter to sell him and Lily out to the Devil reborn.)

The thought of you breathing was enough to keep James alive.

But, that was not love. It was a mockery of it.

No, he did not feel so much as a twinge of emotion for you. Not even as Mad-Eye Moody brought your limp body back to Grimmauld. It was not love that threatened the magic in his being—that simmered in his blood until the painted walls saw an indent of his fist. (“Poor thing,” McGonagall cooed as she pressed her palm over your forehead. Despite some of the members’ growing distrust for you, you still took an Unforgivable in their stead. “We can only wait. . . Four Cruciatus curses. . .”)

What more did James need to want to rip Peter apart limb by limb?

It was not love that rooted his feet by your side. Sitting hunched on a chair too small for his height, bags beneath his eyes, and the pale of his lips becoming noticeable to everyone who spoke to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you lovelessly—hands desperately clutching your own. Sirius stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, dagger-like eyes waiting for so much as a twitch of your finger. “I’m sorry.”

It was a plea this time.

He only hoped you did not ask him to love you. For James could give you the world, hand-pick the stars, and burrow his body deep beneath the ground if you had asked for it—but he could not love you.

Everyone had told him not to hope that you would wake up. That your pretty eyes would not flutter open, and you would no longer look at him as you had before. But James was stubborn. He was selfish as he was stubborn. He did not love you—but he needed to hear the sound of your voice. And James would take it any way that he could. The soft cadence of a whisper, or a rough utterance of a single word. Molly Weasley told him to accept reality for what it was. (“You need sleep, dear,” the matriarch fussed. “There’s nothing we can do. Look at the Longbottoms. . . We can do no more for this one as we had done for them.”)

In the still of the night, he left his reveries on the cold of your skin. “Wake up,” he demanded.

“Wake up or else you’re the traitor everyone thinks you are,” James hissed.

But his words held no heat—and his heart held no love for you.

Make no mistake about that.

Then, when you finally woke up, disoriented and throat parched—a hazy recollection of the weeks before—James made sure that no more than four people could enter the room. He did not care if a hurricane, or if Voldemort himself—James had faced him once already, after all—threatened to break the door down. You were theirs to protect.

(But not to love.)

“We need to begin the questioning, James, you know that,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt, almost exasperatedly; weary lines written across his face. James would not allow even a toe beyond the doorway. An interrogation meant you had something to do with the attempted murder of James and his family. Whether or not you were innocent, James did not care—he just wanted you safe.

(And a small part of him already knew that you were not your brother’s keeper. Just as they had absolved Sirius of his family’s sins. It would be unfair to not show you the same grace. But before his mind knew that, James’s heart and soul had known the truth all along.)

He found Sirius gently tending to your every need, and already James knew that was Padfoot’s way of begging for forgiveness. The ebony-haired man hung onto your every word. He winced when you flinched, and pressed his apologies to your forehead, rasping for a kindness he did not deserve. Not after what he did. How he turned you away and cursed your name. How they betrayed you.

James did not love you.

But what else could he call the manacles that bound his hands and forced him to his knees when it came to you?

Not. Love.

iii.

REMUS LUPIN could not bring himself to love you. But, he could not love Sirius, Lily, and James either. He was undeserving of such a privilege. But he was not allowed to love you; Remus could only hope that you saw even a shred of worth in him—to wrest each word from his lips and every breath from his lungs. But, he did not love you. No.

Because loving you meant he was to tell you of your brother’s crimes. And Remus could not hurt you like that.

“P-Peter?” you had asked, wearing the eyes of a fretful sibling. Remus lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair gone astray behind your ear. Bellatrix had done a number on you—just as she had done to Alice and Frank. Remus was fairly certain that Sirius was off on a hunt for his cousin, his mind toyed with by the barbarity of war. What they could not do for the Longbottoms, they’d wring themselves dry to do for you. After the Lestranges’ attack, you suffered damage to your throat and memories. Remus could not bear to see you in such pain.

He could not give you love, but Remus would offer up to you his every limb, and the weary skin upon his bones.

“They. . .” Remus grimaced. How could he act as the bearer of bad news? He’d rather dive headfirst into shark-infested waters. Be anywhere else but here. In fact, Remus would rather snatch you away from the funereal walls, and hold you in his arms in the quietude of dawn, than be the one to bring anguish to your eyes. “They’re looking for him at the moment, love.”

One question lingered in your eyes: Why?

Luckily, Sirius was always the better one at sharpening a blunt knife. “He was a traitor,” he spat like acid. “A traitor to the Order. A traitor to us. He’s no friend of ours. Not anymore.”

But Sirius knew—better than anyone else—how difficult it can be to truly hate little brothers, especially once they’ve gone.

“No. . .” You trembled, almost retching as you sobbed into your palms.

Remus held you then, the front of his shirt soaked in your tears, eyes firmly shut as you trembled and heaved in his arms. The sound of your guttural screams bounced off the four walls, and Remus had to bury his nose in your hair. You were alive. Safe. Breathing. But you felt cold as ice; an empty husk stripped bare for grief to take over. And Remus could do nothing but hold you. (He just hoped that wherever Peter Pettigrew was, Remus would not be the first one to find him. Otherwise, they would not be able to recover even a fingernail from his remains.)

“Hush, love,” Remus whispered into your ear as you cried yourself sick. Mourning the loss of your brother, reeling from the betrayal of a bond that was supposed to be stronger than blood. Remus would make him pay, he vowed as much to you. No, Remus and the wolf in him did not know how to love. But he knew how to hurt. And, that, he’d gladly do for you. His body was for you to use as a shield, his soul for you to strip bare, and his heart for you to thieve and never return.

“Don’t cry,” said James, a shadow cast over his frames. “Not for Peter. Never. Fucking bastard will get what’s coming to him.” He laid on the vacant space of the bed, gently untangling your hands that were pressed over your heart. “I’ll make sure of it.”

They all would.

But not because they loved you.

It was not out of love, Remus had to remind himself in the coming days, when he stayed diligently by your side as you recovered. Daily sessions with the best healer St. Mungo’s could offer—as if James would allow anything else. There were days your eyes would glaze over, your words rough and sluggish, and Remus would try his damndest to make you smile.

It was the least he could do.

For failing to protect you.

But that was not love.

(It was hope. Wretched, disastrous hope as he fell to his knees, and your name in between his teeth.)

iv.

LILY EVANS was a fighter in all the ways that mattered.

And from the very first moment she held Harry in her arms, eyes raking over his wrinkly, bloodied skin; all ten fingers and toes, her soft cries over his loud screaming—Lily knew she would trade her life for his in a heartbeat. Little, lovely eyes that would soon see the world in his own time. Lily adored him. Cherished every tear, snore, and giggle. She knew then, that a mother’s love was entirely different from any emotion she’d ever felt before.

This was proven the first time Harry had gotten seriously ill. A few weeks after the attempted murder on the Potters, Harry was ceaselessly crying—screaming, even, every night—red-faced as he fussed every breakfast and dinner. Lily found herself at wit’s end. Her protectiveness had gone up a hundred measures; wouldn’t let anyone besides family or Madam Pomfrey see Harry. Yet, even with all the draughts and silly-flavoured syrups, Harry wasn’t getting better.

“Lily dear, you cannot actually be thinking about this,” worried Molly Weasley as Lily stood in front of your door, holed away in the room where you had been recovering for the last few days. It would be the first time she saw you since the incident. More than anything she was afraid. Frightened that you would look at her differently. Whether or not that fear stemmed from love, Lily was not concerned. “We can call for another Healer from Mungo’s to have a look at Harry. . . Who knows what might. . .”

Lily held Harry closer to her, lips firmly pressed, attempting to ignore the way his temperature was unnaturally high. “Might what, Mrs. Weasley?” She knew Molly was only talking out of concern, from a mother’s perspective at least. But she knew you better than anyone else. You would never hurt her, or Harry, that much she was certain of. And if you were the traitor everyone else was afraid of accusing you of, a sentence delivered by association to Peter—then let the guillotine fall, Lily would carry your crimes for you.

She remembered ever-so clearly in her sixth-year, you with dreams glistening in your eyes. (“I’m going to be a Healer, Lils! Minnie said I’d be a great one. . . I want to protect those I love. . . I know I can do it. . . Oh, I can’t wait to tell Peter that I’ve gotten recommendations already to work at Mungo’s after graduation.”)

And Lily recalled at that moment, she had felt a different kind of emotion that she had never experienced before. It was not love, of course. Tuney said she was too young and too stupid to know what real love was. But, at sixteen, what else could describe the way her heart fluttered and the way her lips threatened to break out into a smile whenever you lit up talking about your future? (It was just a crush, young Lily told herself.)

Only to be crushed and cast aside in the face of the war, where fighters took their place at the forefront of the lines, mothers and children hid; healers stretching themselves thin to be here, there, everywhere; where traitors walked in plain sight.

“There is no one else I trust more with my life,” replied Lily.

And that was that.

Lily skirted around Molly and opened the door to your room, where Sirius, James, and Remus all stood at attention at the sight of her and Harry. She ignored them, and headed straight to your side.

“Hello, love,” she greeted with all the gentleness she was made of, a smile creeping up to her eyes as Lily watched you turn your head at the sound of her voice. Truth be told, she did not know what her end-goal was in coming here. But being by your side had always made life a little more bearable, like all the illnesses in the world could not bring her down. And so, her magic had instinctively summoned her person to you. She, at least, was relieved to see colour returning to your cheeks, though the red in your eyes had dulled the hues she adored so much.

“Is that. . .?” you croaked.

Lily nodded. “Harry, meet—”

One of the loves of my life, the most loyal and pure witch anyone ever has the privilege of meeting, someone I want to stay in my life forever.

Lily’s smile wilted. “A friend.”

Later, she would place Harry in your arms—her little hope embraced by her dream—and Lily would wonder if it was by pure magic that Harry calmed in your presence.

For if love could hurt and destroy, could it mend and heal the broken as well?

But what a shame, for not one in that room carried an ounce of love for you.

(She would die for Harry, yes—but she would live for you.)

YOU did not love them, either.

The very idea, thought—insinuation—was absurd. (Why, they deserved much better than you, after all.) With hands that failed to protect them, were you even allowed to hold them anymore? Did your heart have the right to breathe for them? You had failed as a sister and a friend—how much more would you have failed as their lover? Well, you’d never know.

Because you did not love them.

Merely wished them happiness and for the world to extend them kindness. For the sun to look brightly down on them, and for time to heal their scars and wounds. For if they were in pain, the earth would stop spinning. But such a request was not borne from love.

Surely not.

Because, then, that would have meant that it was love that teared you apart when Sirius cursed your name, when James turned you away, when Remus could not look you in the eyes, or when Lily—for all your history together—called you a friend.

The whole of you was made by the parts of them. Each memory welded into the crevices of your soul. From the moment you had all found each other in the same train compartment, same common room—there was a shift in the fates that bound all five of you together. (The ties were red, but the thread was not of love.) You did not believe in Professor Trelawney’s talks of providence and destiny.

Because if you did, then why was the universe so cruel?

Falling—not in love—for four people who could very much do without you in their lives. Lacking severely as a sister to the point you had not noticed your brother fading and fading away into the shadows.

Was love that unkind? That merciless?

Then, you did not want to love at all.

Oh, but magic or not, every creature on this earth selfish.

You were no different.

You wanted.

Oh, how you yearned.

“I LOVE YOU.”

You barely had enough time to react before Sirius pressed his lips to the side of your head, arm covertly sneaking around your waist. The sound of the train whistling as parents yelled their goodbyes filled the station. You stood in the midst of the crowd, eyes never leaving one window in particular as you waved at Harry, now eleven-years-old and now off to Hogwarts.

“Quite a random thing to say, husband,” you murmured, leaning into his warmth. “What for?”

“Just because,” he replied in turn with a fiendish grin. “Well, perhaps for choosing us, for choosing me despite all my fuck-ups. For existing. For being the beautiful, wonderful, kind, precious you. I could keep on going, my darling. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

You wrinkled your nose, eyes rolling from fondness. “I love you too, quite unfortunately.”

He only laughed and pulled you closer to him. “Let’s go home.”

–

“I love you.”

In the house built by new memories, warded by stronger protection charms, and filled with warmth and love—James said this to you each morning before he left for the Ministry, promoted after the war as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Not one foot out of the door until he had showered you in kisses and the symphonies of his heart. James had always been loud, even in his time at Hogwarts. The war had not taken this part of him, and you figured James was too loud to let it be taken from him. He was unapologetically and unabashedly him.

And you had loved him fiercely for that.

“I’ll be home early tonight,” he said, a quiet intimacy washing over the both of you. The early birds of the cottage. “Wait for me?”

“Of course,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, delicately chasing after his lips. “I love you. Be safe.”

“I love you.”

“Are you saying that to me or are you reading from the book?” you teased from where you laid on Remus’s chest, hours after James left for work, the afternoon bringing you two together in the living room. Lily was in the gardens, and Sirius was in the shed working on his motorbike. It was perfect. You felt the rise and fall of Remus’s chest beneath you, his heartbeat close to your ear. He was perfect. It was a miracle you had not fallen asleep to the tender lull of his voice.

“Both,” he responded, hand coming up to trace the bare of your skin—a miracle you did not crumble or burn instantly from his touch.

You hummed. “Then, I love you, too.” Then, you grinned, lifting your head to stare up at him. “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”

And, oh, how photographs could not capture the beauty in Remus’s smile as his eyes regarded you with such fire.

“My heart, my light, my desire,” Remus began, one finger ever-so softly tracing the curve of your cheek. “In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

–

“I love you.”

Said Lily as she lied in your shared bed, red-nosed and her cheeks pale, sluggish. The Christmas holiday was generous enough to gift her with an unfortunate cold that had been going around the wizarding world. “But, please, go,” she commanded weakly, gesturing for you to join Harry who was stood by the door. “It’s a lovely day outside for making snowmen with carrots as noses and snow angels. Not for taking care of poor old me.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat by her side, swiftly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I love you, which is why I would rather much be here, taking care of the prettiest snow angel to ever exist,” you countered, bringing a spoonful of broth to her lips. “Besides, Harry here has something to tell you. He’s made friends at school. One of them is Molly’s little one.”

“Oh, you did?” Lily cooed, before sniffling weakly. “That’s lovely, darling. Tell me all about them.”

“That’s not all, Lily mine,” you began mischievously as Harry’s eyes narrowed at you through his glasses. “This friendship apparently formed after fighting a troll.”

“You what?” Lily croaked, emerald eyes shimmering with concern and near-dread.

“Did you really, Harry?” James popped his head in the doorway, clapping his son on the shoulder before ushering him inside the room. A spitting image side-by-side as they took the empty space by the foot of the bed. “Good boy. Father approves.”

“Of course you would,” Lily shot at him weakly, melting when Sirius then entered the room and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. “And where are you all coming from?”

“Outside,” announced Remus, tugging his tie from his neck. “Sirius and I took a quick trip to Diagon Alley to get some things that’ll make you feel better, Lily love.”

And as the snow fell outside, lazy winds against the window, your little family gathered in one room, there was one thing you knew for certain.

You loved them.

And they loved you.

a/n: i wrote all 4k words while sick. crazy. but anyway, i wanted to believe in love again so here i am. thank you all so much for being patient with me. i promise to do even better in the next fics!

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mayullla · 26 days ago

Text

Title: His Dream Wife

Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)

Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)

Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!

Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.

That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.

Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him.

Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome.

And her own manager was ripe for the picking.

She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.

Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.

Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.

He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.

Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.

He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.

Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.

That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller.

Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.

"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.

"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots.

Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.”

“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.

“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”

After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.

"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"

"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms.

Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.

This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.

Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"

He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"

He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.

It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.

The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.

He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.

The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."

[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]

[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]

[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]

[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]

From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”

"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."

He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.

A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.

It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.

She was stunning.

He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride.

After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.

But he didn't want to leave either way.

Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.

You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.

Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.

The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.

How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.

The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.

When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.

He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.

You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.

You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them.

You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.

There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.

Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much.

He could not help but crumble and fall.

He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.

But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.

"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."

Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?

Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.

It made him livid.

Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone.

His wife and your husband.

You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.

That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.

Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.

If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.

If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.

But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.

Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.

Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.

"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."

He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.

His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.

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kooqitas · 1 month ago

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#pairing: jungkook x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1800

#synopsis: crying on jungkook's shoulder might not have been the smartest idea in the world since now he's fucking you while your ex is calling.

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.), namjoon ex bf, rough sex. jk has a bick dick. maybe phone sex?

★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

it was friday when jungkook texted you asking if you were gonna the college party, and of course your answer was 'no'. breaking up with namjoon was one thing, but seeing him at a party where he would probably kiss several girls in front of you was a bit too much

"you can't stay home while the biggest party of the semester is going on"

'"yes i can, and i will!"

"god, why are you so complicated? at least come over to my house, i won't leave you suffering alone'

"i'm not suffering, jungkook!'

that's a lie. you were. a lot.

you ended up accepting jungkook's invitation, at first feeling bad for ruining the party for him, but jungkook was always the person who made you comfortable, usually when you went to parties with namjoon, he was the one who always stayed by your side while namjoon got drunk with his friends, he was the one who took you and namjoon home, the reality is that jungkook spent much more time by your side than your, now ex, boyfriend.

jungkook was excited, he came over and offered you wine and before you knew it you were on the couch, with your legs over his while he tried to convince you that it was namjoon who had lost you, not the other way around.

"he fuck so good, jungkook," you admitted, clearly overcome by the drink (added to your fertile period that made your panties damp at that very moment). "that pisses me off. he's arrogant, stupid, i hate him... but damn, the sex was so good"

jungkook laughed, as affected by the alcohol as you were, it's not like he'd never heard namjoon talk about sex with you, how wild and rough you two were.

it wasn't like jungkook had never heard you two...

but in that situation, knowing that you weren't together anymore, it was a little different...

"he pulled my hair, hit me, called me a whore, damn, it was so good, i can complain about him in many ways, except for this one, the son of a bitch made me cum like no one else"

"jesus!" jungkook said, taking a sip of his drink.

okay, things need to be pointed out, yes, jungkook was gorgeous, damn, he was hot, but you had never thought of him as a 'man' he was just your boyfriend's best friend, who always hung out with you at parties, who danced with you on the dance floor, who complimented your clothes and makeup, who complimented your smell, your lip gloss...

"i hope one day i can find someone who fucks me like him," you blurted out.

and jungkook took a deep breath, motivated a little by the drink, but deep down he knew that if it wasn't right then he might never have another chance. i mean, it was crazy, of course it was, who in their right mind would try to have sex with their best friend's ex-girlfriend when it hasn't even been a month since they broke up...

but jungkook wasn't the sanest person at the moment, in fact he never was when it came to you, not when he jerked off in the bathroom of namjoon's parents' beach house last month after seeing you parading around the pool in a red bikini.

"i can fuck you like him, in fact... i can fuck you even better"

"what?" you choked on your own saliva when you heard that.

jungkook took advantage of the fact that your legs were on top of his and started to leave a mischievous caress on your knee

"i told you i can fuck you better than him"

"jungkook..." you scolded him, but deep down that idea excited you.

"hi, love"

"fuck, that's not right"

"why not, why the hell are you so scared to do that?

"it's not for me, it's for you"

"well, i don't care... i've wanted to fuck you for a while now"

you choked again, but before you could say anything, jungkook took the glass from your hand and laid down with his body on top of yours.

you were going to ask again what the hell was that, what the hell was he doing, but jungkook kissed you, and there, fuck any lucid thought you could have.

the taste of wine in his mouth, his hot tongue entering your mouth with voracity, fuck any conscious shit, you needed to fuck with jungkook at that moment.

it was a blur until you were only in your panties underneath him while he sucked your tits, using his hand to play with the free nipple in a somewhat abrupt way, he seemed desperate, in reality, he was desperate, jungkook had been thinking about fucking you for so long that it seemed like a joke from the universe.

he finally took off his shirt and you smiled with his chest exposed, and jungkook just grunted, going back to kissing you while the tie of his shorts hit your waist. you knew he would be big, but nothing expected you for what you saw when he pulled down his shorts with his underwear all at once.

jungkook's cock was big, thick, full of veins and the purple head was already leaking precum. you couldn't hide your scared face when you saw it, making jungkook laugh.

'what's wrong?'

'fuck, that won't fit...'

'yes, it will, love, i'm gonna suck you and open you up for me, you're gonna take every inch of it and be a good girl on my cock!'

you gasped, agreeing, and jungkook laughed again, trailing kisses down your belly until he reached your panties... you quickly lifted your hips, a silent request for him to remove the fabric right away, and he obeyed.

the first thing jungkook did was smell your wet panties, the scene almost made you cum.

"if you taste as good as you smell, fuck, kitten..."

and jungkook sucked your clit, you moaned loudly, holding his hair. it was a mix of desperation and pleasure that you only felt when you had sex while stoned with your ex, and there was jungkook, ok, not 100% sober, but wanting you so fucking much...

you didn't even see when he inserted a finger, but at a certain point you were grabbing the couch's upholstery because he had three fingers inside you while he sucked your clit, your hips lifting desperately seeking more contact, at the same time trying to pull away, jungkook's long hair tickling your belly nicely, the way he put his fingers deeper and deeper...

you saw the ceiling of the room spin, and the next second jungkook had only his mouth on you.

sucking every drop.

you had never been sucked so well, but you were far from satisfied, so you were just grateful when without any prior warning jungkook entered you.

fuck, it burned, he was so fucking big. jungkook laughed, trying to contain his own arousal while you got used to his size. he ran his hand over your nipples, squeezing the tip, rubbing his fingertips on your belly, on your thigh... all while looking at you as if he wanted to devour you... and he did.

"jungkook..."

just his name was enough for him to understand, and then he thrust, his balls hitting you full on made you see stars. and the rhythm only increased, along with the brutality.

"i've wanted you like this for so long, fuck, imagining my cock destroying that tiny pussy"

you grabbed his shoulder, immersed in your own feeling and the noises you were making.

but something took you out of orbit.

ir rather, someone.

the shrill ring of the phone with the name 'namjoon' on the screen. you ignored the first call, the second, but on the third jungkook got irritated, he swiped right and simply accepted the call. your eyes widened, mumbling a 'what?'

but all jungkook said back was an 'answer', stopping his thrusting into you.

you obeyed.

damn the time you obeyed.

"where the fuck are you? why didn't you come to the party?"

"i... hm?"

"i'm asking why you didn't come to this fucking party, i got all dressed up, i bought a fucking bouquet, i bought your favorite chocolate, where the fuck are you?" namjoon was irritated, visibly irritated.

"i..." you tried to answer, fuck, what would you say to him? "i jus-OH" you moaned loudly, when jungkook moved inside you again, a little less aggressive than before, still strong.

you whispered a 'stop' but jungkook ignored it, laughing when you put your hand over your mouth trying not to moan loudly.

"you what?" namjoon questioned from the other side.

"i... i'm not very- very well" you choked on your own moans, while jungkook laughed.

you looked at him desperately, but he just laughed, whispering for you to continue talking on the phone. and of course you could hang up and end it all, but that feeling was so good... you felt like a slut, but you had never felt so good.

jungkook slapped your breasts audibly, enough for namjoon to hear.

"what's going on there?"

"nothing... is just thFUCK, JUNGKOOK!" you screamed without thinking as jungkook thrust even harder, the couch scraping on the living room floor as his balls slammed violently against you.

"wait, what? you said WHAT?"

at this point in the game, fuck any shit, you just ignored your ex-boyfriend, moaning loudly as jungkook fucked you like an animal, you knew namjoon was listening, he was following the line, but fuck any shit, you needed to cum, and thanks to this disgusting situation you would cum soon.

"are you fucking with my best friend? what type of whore are you?"

"my whore." jungkook took the phone from your hand, still thrusting angrily. "i'm fucking her delicious pussy, the one you kept telling me was tight, that it was delicious, fuck, you were right, it's so fucking delicious!"

and jungkook hung up, still laughing at you.

namjoon returned the call, the phone vibrating in jungkook's hand as he laughed evilly.

jungkook pressed the phone to your clit, the vibration being enough to make you cum exactly 10 seconds later, but jungkook went further...

he accepted namjoon's call, only to turn it into a video call, and then show his (maybe now ex) best friend, a video with a perfect angle of him cumming inside you.

before namjoon could say anything, jungkook hung up, his heavy body falling on top of yours.

"fuck that..." you tried to say.

"shhhh, let's think about it later? i just lost my best friend"

"do you regret it?"

"it depends... will I be able to fuck you more often?"

you thought, and it was pretty clear that you wanted to again, so why lie?

"if you want..."

"then no, fuck, i only regret not trying before..."

"u are crazy..." you laughed.

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miserycanary · 9 months ago

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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you.

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night.

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind.

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not.

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well.

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle.

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt.

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him.

God, what has he done?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #light angst #ghost mw2 #ghost angst #ghost fic #simon ghost x you #canary’s melodies

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sweetshuga · 2 months ago

Text

Keep it on ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

fwb!matt! Your friend (with benefits) bought a new pair of glasses, a sight for sore eyes—and an even sorer aftermath.

Warnings! Smut!, obscene descriptions!, petname (pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this irl, this is just fiction, protect yourselves hoes<3), friends with benefits, size kink (kinda), dunno what more,

wc. 1.1k

note. English is not my first language! [Prologue]

You and Matt had decided on this weird arrangement after accidentally hooking up at a mutual friend’s party, both having drunk a little too much and zero fucks to give—you stumbled into a spare bedroom and woke up entangled in each other’s arms.

The compatibility was so good that the arrangement seemed logical. No strings attached, just feeling the bliss and having a friend to talk to that you knew wouldn’t judge you; almost too good to be true.

He was addictive.

Today was like any other day; with you knocking on his front door, ready to have the "much–needed" relief. As soon as Matt opened the door, you felt your breath hitch, he looked like a vision, the hair, the stubble, the clothes, the glasses– wait the glasses?

You blinked and stood there entranced, making Matt let out a small chuckle of amusement, "you gon’ stand there all day pretty?" You snapped out of your thoughts at his words, suddenly very nervous and fidgety, "yeah– no, uh... pardon my intrusion," your words came out more like a mumble as you slipped in through the door, your nervousness evident.

You cleared your throat and looked around briefly, "Nick and Chris aren’t home?" You asked, trying to distract yourself.

"Yeah, they were talking about going somewhere today, I’ve been alone all day, it’s a good thing you came, I was getting bored out of my mind," he chuckled as he saw the small fidgeting you were doing with the hem of your shirt, "you nervous or sum’?" Your eyes widened briefly, "whaaat? Me nervous? M’never nervous around you," you downplayed, laughing, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.

Matt chuckled again, "right, definitely not nervous, not at all," he said with playful sarcasm.

You couldn’t help a chuckle at his teasing words, even if it was at your expense. "You’re wearing glasses." You stated the obvious. "Yeah, does it look weird?" He asked, grinning while fixing his glasses, "no, not weird," you clarified, "it’s just that I’ve never seen you in glasses before, but I have to say, ’s not a bad look on you," smiling as you gave him a teasing nudge on his arm.

Matt smiled back at you, and took your hand, already leading you to his room. "Well, since my brothers aren’t home, might as well use it to our advantage, no?" You let out a small laugh, "yeah, not like we don’t use any moment of solitude to our advantage," you said as you let yourself practically get dragged into his room.

𓆩♡𓆪

After making out and having a slow sensual foreplay, you had become a needy mess. Your insides craved to be filled by him—the glasses perched on his nose didn’t help your ache, only worsened it. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, eliciting a hum of approval from Matt. He broke the kiss, leaning forward to get a condom out of the bedside drawer.

"Hold on pretty, lemme put on-" you stopped his hands from ripping the condom, "do it raw today, I wanna feel you." A soft groan left his lips as he threw the condom somewhere on the bed, "you’re gonna kill me someday, woman," he breathed out, lining himself at your entrance, prodding but not pushing inside. You bit the side of your bottom lip, rolling your hips as you tried to push him in yourself.

"Matt... c’mon." You whined in frustration, the ache too much to ignore– or go along with his teasing. "Mm... you want this big dick in you huh? Want me to stretch you— split you open with it?" His voice was strained, letting you know that he was just as affected as you were.

"Please Matt, yeah... Please, I need you so bad... c’mon," you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation and pure need. Your hands trailed down his chest towards his stomach, his muscles tensing under your fingertips as shuddering breaths left his lips. "You’re so pretty when you beg like that," he praised, making you look at him with pleading eyes, silently conveying your need.

"Please, Matt— I need it, I need you," he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. "I know pretty, I know," he murmured against your lips before claiming it in a searing kiss, slowly pushing his thick length in, stretching you deliciously. A soft moan of pure, unadulterated, relief and pleasure fell from your lips. Matt pulled back until only the tip of his dick was inside before slamming his hips flush against yours, bottoming out as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim made your back arch, sharp moans exited through the "O" shape etched on your lips. Your hands clutched desperately at the bedsheets, trying to ground yourself from the intense pleasure as he pounded into you. He snaked one arm under the arch of your back, holding you tightly as his other hand held your hip—with bruising strength.

The subtle hint of pain caused your pleasure to double.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt groaned in annoyance as his glasses kept slipping down his nose – due to the sweat-slicked skin – his hand on your hip reached for his glasses but you held his forearm, stopping any further movement. Matt’s pace faltered as he looked down at you, confused, "yeah? What’s up pretty? You okay? Am I being too rough-" You chuckled breathlessly at his concerns, "no, no, don’t worry, you’re not being too rough, I just..." You paused.

"You just?" He repeated, panting softly, slowly rolling his hips against yours. A breathy moan fell from your lips, "well, just keep it on alright... you uh... you look good in it, the glasses I mean." You said, still breathless, mumbling an add on, "delicious even," a slow smirk made its way onto his lips, now understanding why you were acting so flustered and fidgety earlier today.

Matt wiped the sweat that had been making his glasses slide, chuckling as he leaned down to your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. "Oh I’m gonna keep it on alright, the whole night even, m’gonna fuck this pretty little pussy so good—ruin you for anyone else," he whispered – a promise – before continuing his pounding, each one making your body rise up the bed.

Your tits bounced with each slam as he held you tightly, not letting you escape the intensity of it all. All you could do was cling to him and scream his name as he took what he wanted—what you wanted. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss and shut his eyes in slight pain and pleasure, his pace never faltering.

The ecstasy etched on his features, the glasses, the stubble, the hair, the earrings, the chain— a sight for sore eyes indeed– and an even sorer aftermath.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 1,146

Isa's notes. Yeah... Another smut? I'm so awkward when it comes to writing something like this 🫠 Also, something longer? Gee, I know, but the topic is too good not to write a longer fic to.

༝༚༝༚

#matt sturniolo #fanfiction #smut #blurb #matt x you #matt x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo blurb #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo smut #oneshot

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buckyalpine · 5 months ago

Text

Imagine feeling needy and sad when Bucky pays more attention to your very round, pregnant tummy instead of you. I mean he doesn't actually. You're his entire world and you come first no matter what but currently, you feel like the little super soldier you're carrying is getting much more love than you.

"How's my little plum" Bucky cooed, peppering kisses all over your tummy, snuggling against your skin after coming back from a mission. 2 weeks had never felt longer and you were craving your husband more than ever. As soon as you heard the rumble of the jet, you waddled from your room as best as you could, panting out of breath by the time you reached the living room.

You couldn't wait to have your Bucky safe in your arms again, giggling at the way he tossed his bag and jacket to the side haphazardly, running straight to you. You braced yourself for an attack and flurry of hugs and kisses he always greeted you with but it never came.

You squeaked as he picked you up and set you on the couch, lifting your shirt up to curl up with your belly, sighing contently as his scruffy cheek pressed against your warm skin. You brought your hand down to play with his soft cropped hair, longing to feel his arms hold you, his warm lips all over your face, his sweet words of how much he missed you and how happy he was to be back home with you again. Instead, the tiny soldier in your belly was hogging up all the time with his daddy.

Of course it was ridiculous. You knew Bucky loved you more than anything else in the world; he doted on you all the time, you were the most precious thing in this life. He adored you more than ever, worshipping your every being and ever since you'd told him he was going to be a father, he'd fallen in love with you more. You were giving him the family he dreamed of with his dream girl, you trusted him, you were carrying his little baby.

You will always be everything to him.

Yet you couldn't help but feel a little left out of the welcome party, your throat feeling tight, eyes starting to fill with tears. You missed him soo much and he was still busy nuzzling into your tummy, but not busy enough to miss the whimper that slipped past your lips.

"Baby?" Bucky's head shot up as soon as he heard what sounded like a cry but it couldn't be. His eyes filled with worry when he saw your sweet fallen face, indeed crying and poorly hiding it. "Why are you crying angel, what happened, is everything okay?"

His mind started to run a hundred miles a minute, ready to swoop you away to the med wing when shook your head, another wave of tears pooling when he reached out to wipe your cheeks.

"It's silly" You shrug with a sniffle but Bucky isn't having it.

"Tell me what's wrong baby" his baby blues pled with you, waiting to fix what was wrong because why was his perfect angel sad.

"I didn't get a hello kiss" You say with a pout and Bucky found himself stuck between wanting to cry and loving you more.

"I'm sorry, mama" Bucky coos, scooping you right up into his arms, cupping your cheek and placing a kiss onto your nose. Then your forehead. "M'sorry" He places a gently kiss to your still pouted lips, repeatedly peppering kisses till he hears you giggle. "You deserve all the hello kisses angel"

"I thought you didn't miss me" You whisper with your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent, all the anxiety you felt with him gone washing away in an instant.

"I missed you more than you know, baby" His lips move against your hair, "How could I not miss the pretty girl I fell so in love with, you're it for me"

He kept you in his arms, his hand slipping up your shirt to rub your back, the simple action nearly lulling you to sleep. He picks you up with ease, deciding to run a bath because he doesn't want to be away from your side for another minute and he keeps himself glued to you the entire time. Your back is against his chest, his hands coming up to massage your tense shoulders, kissing down your neck. He doesn't let go when it's time to rinse off, standing with both hands over your tummy as the hot water cascades over you both. He gets you dried off with a nice fluff towel before taking you to bed to sleep, frowning when you shuffled around in discomfort.

"I think your little plum misses you" You giggled between a squeak as baby Bucky kicked in your tummy, refusing to sleep until he heard his daddy's voice say goodnight. You gave him a pointed look as Bucky grinned, shimmying down the bed to rest between your legs at eyelevel with your belly. "Come talk to your son please"

"Quit kicking your ma" Bucky whispered, his metal hand patting the area where his baby boys tiny feet caused a ruckus, "time to let mommy rest, plum"

"Unbelievable" you huffed as the kicking stopped immediately, your little one settling contently while you also got comfortable against Bucky's chest. "So in love with his daddy"

"He gets it from you" Bucky smiled down at your content form, already half asleep, snug in his arms, "Pretty angel"

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starlightxsvt · 3 months ago

Text

Sibilance. | j.ww (M)

synopsis ➳ ❝ he is always getting in trouble and it is your job to get him out each time. the problem is, the more time you spend with him, the bigger trouble it becomes for your heart. in the end, who will get you out? ❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo

genre ➳ smut, slight angst, good girl bad boy trope ig

word count ➳ 4.9k + 800(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ mentions of fighting, injuries, bruises, reader wears glasses, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, degradation(he calls her a sl*t during seggs), unprotected intercourse, reader is lowkey down bad for him(aren't we all), male oral(reader's first time giving bj), slight nipple play, cream pie, rough sex, no aftercare, open ending ;D

A/N: yes this is a repost

You step out of the police station, the click of your heels echoing against the smooth, shiny floor leading down to some stairs. With your phone pressed to your ear by your shoulder, you shove the documents into your bag and try to zip it closed, all while listening to the Chairman, your richest client over the phone.

“Yes Chairman, I will get him home right away.”

The call disconnects as you manage to zip your bag, a sigh of relief falling from your lips. You allow yourself a moment to breathe, a moment to inhale a lungful of the cold night air. After how hectic the past hour has been, the only thing you need right now is a drink and a solid eight hours of sleep.

However, you will not be getting any of that.

You find Wonwoo standing a few feet ahead of you, his back facing you as he waits there with his hands in his pockets, kicking stones on the ground and looking around with boredom.

This man is the creator of the biggest chaos. He should come with a neon sign flashing on his forehead that reads “trouble.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to deal with him without losing your professionalism. “Mr. Jeon, let me drop you home.”

The tall man turns around as you approach him, and a wide, mischievous smirk graces his lips, “How many times have I told you not to call me that, Princess Lawful?”

Pushing your frames up your nose bridge, you narrow your eyes at him, not appreciating his hearty attitude.

“I don’t get paid enough for your bullshit, you know.” You comment under your breath, reaching into your pants pocket to search for your car keys.

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “You are like what— twenty seven? And you have a five figure income monthly.”

“Whatever,” you grunt, fishing deeper into your seemingly endless pocket before finally finding your key. Wonwoo comes closer to you and casually snakes an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body, his firm chest bumping against your arm as you stiffen up from the contact.

“Don’t worry, I will ask my father to give you a raise,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, making your breath stutter. Despite the cold weather, you can feel your face heat up, the dangerous proximity messing with your brain. It is all too much— his touch, his smell, his voice, a lethal combination that makes your knees weak.

You look at the taller man, in the back of your mind wondering how you ended up here. After graduation, you were lucky enough to get a job at one of the most reputable law firms right away.

Maybe not entirely luck, but through your hard work. You had sacrificed your youth, eyesight and skin for the job as you came out the top in your class. The plan was to work nine to five and within a year or two, end up with a fat paycheck every month. Things were going according to your plan until earlier this year when you made a huge breakthrough in a very important case that even your seniors were struggling with. That got the attention of your company president, Mr. Pi who immediately had you put in the legal team of the Jeon family as a junior advisor. He said there was an empty position and you would be the perfect fit. He promised that the workload would not be too much as you would primarily assist the senior lawyers in their tasks and the pay would be good.

It was a mistake to believe Mr. Pi.

The first time you saw Wonwoo was in the early morning on a Monday, one week after joining the Jeon family’s legal team. As you were sneaking sips of coffee from your tumbler in a meeting room full of old men discussing boring things, Chairman Jeon, Wonwoo’s father barged in followed by the trouble stirrer himself.

Wonwoo stole your breath the moment your eyes met him for the first time.

There was something magnetic about him. Other than his drop dead gorgeous looks, broad shoulders and tall build, there was something in his aura, something in the way he walked and carried himself that charged a room with tension and stole everyone’s attention. Once his eyes locked with yours, he stood in front of the door for seconds that felt too long, the look in his fox shaped eyes changing. They flickered with mischief and some amusement as he tilted his head to carefully scan you, a subtle hint of smirk growing at his lips.

For a moment you had forgotten where you were, letting yourself get carried away in his hypnotizing gaze and attractive smile, the little nicks and cuts on his face increasing his appeal by a hundred times.

He was trouble. You knew it right away. You saw it in his eyes, the mischief, the defiance, the chaos he could not wait to cause. He was your polar opposite in every sense and you knew he picked up on it right away. And you also knew you would not be able to get him off your back.

That was indeed, true.

Wonwoo’s first ever case that you handled was assigned that fateful morning. His father gathered everyone to brief about the situation that went down. Wonwoo had gotten in a fight at a bar the previous night, breaking a guy's arm and it was your job to compensate and cover the issue as smoothly as possible.

It has been quite a while since then and for whatever reason, Chairman Jeon always ordered you to handle his son’s cases. Of course, you could not say no to him so for the last ten months you have been working like a dog, cleaning up Wonwoo’s mess everytime he got in trouble, which was often.

It was during one such time, about three months ago, after you had gotten him out of the police station, that the mistake happened.

You slipped and caused trouble for yourself, committing something that altered your course of life.

You slept with Jeon Wonwoo.

Things have been messy since then. Not for him but for you. He definitely has more control over you now, crossing your professional boundaries whenever he pleases.

You are left in ruins, emotionally.

Wonwoo is an attractive, complicated man and you can’t help that you are attracted to him. There is obvious palpable tension between the two of you but ignoring that, you know very well the type of guy he is.

He is not boyfriend material. He is not good for your heart.

Yet now, as your body is pressed against his in the cold winter night, you cannot prevent your heart from dangerously thudding in your chest, a heated feeling rising in your belly.

“Take me home, Princess Lawful,” Wonwoo says, squeezing your shoulder. “I had a long day, you know?” There is an innocent whine in his tone and you can’t help but wonder at his duality.

“Fighting people?” You throw an annoyed look at him, freeing yourself from his grip and marching towards your car.

“Among other things,” he chuckles, his tone is light and playful as he jogs to catch up to you.

Thirty minutes later when you turn off your ignition in front of his house, you look beside to see him asleep in the passenger seat. No wonder it was so quiet in the car. He sits with the seat reclined, arms crossed over his chest as he faces the window in his side, the black locks of hair falling over his eyes.

In the dim light coming from a nearby street lamp, you admire the man next to you, your hands instinctively reaching to touch his face. Once again, your heartbeats quicken, a lump forming in your throat when you try to analyze this strange feeling in your chest. The tip of your index finger brushes his cheek, right below a cut and his lips form a knowing smile.

Your blood runs cold as you snatch your hand back.

This bastard was awake.

His eyes open, the piercing gaze making your breath stutter in your throat. “What dirty ideas were you having, hmm?” He smirks, leaning closer.

You immediately duck your head low, fiddling with your seatbelt in the dark to yank it open.

“I knew you were admiring me.” He easily snaps off his belt and resting his arm on the armrest between the two seats, he tilts his head lower to meet your bashful eyes. “Were you going to kiss me, Princess Lawful?”

You inhale a sharp breath before your hand moves on its own accord, ready to slap him. Wonwoo, however, catches it, his bony fingers wrapping around your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip as you lock eyes with him.

As always, he is calm and poised, a lazy smirk on his face, looking like he has the entire universe and beyond in his palm.

Wonwoo has this effect on you, this weird thing where words get stuck in your throat and your brain fumbles. Right now is one of those as your eyes remain locked with Wonwoo’s hypnotic gaze, leaving you unable to look away no matter how much you want to. Slowly, he pulls your hand towards him, his lips to be exact, as you watch with horror how his lips come in contact with your knuckles.

Suddenly, it is sweltering inside the car even though it is below zero outside. You are brought under a spell as you watch with parted lips how softly, sensually Wonwoo’s lips trace kisses over your knuckles and the top of your hand. The sensation shoots tingles throughout your entire body and at this moment, Wonwoo could ask you to bring him the moon and you would do it.

“Come inside.” His voice is feather light but you know he demands it.

Fuck, no, you cannot let this go on.

You snatch your hand back, shifting in your seat to be as far from him as possible in this confined space.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” you object, not meeting his gaze.

“Oh come on,” He almost whines. “I am injured, you know.”

You turn your head to look at him with skepticism. He watches you with a pout on his lips, his eyes shining as if he is a child waiting for candy. It is a complete whiplash from his previous attitude.

“Don’t believe me?” He sits up straight, determined to prove something as he turns on the overhead light. Then pulling up his windbreaker and his turtleneck, he shows you his lower back where, on the left side there is a big, purple mark blooming.

You gasp, immediately pulling the material of his clothes higher to get a better look. “My god, how did this happen?”

“The guy pushed me real hard. Hit my back against this table.” He explains casually, fixing his clothes. “Come on now, help me treat it.” He announces, not sparing a glance at you as he gets out of the car, his movements relaxed and confident as if he is sure you will follow him.

You do so silently, matching his pace as he approaches his house, the faint crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. He climbs the small steps leading to the front door, its polished surface gleaming in the soft glow of the single overhead porch light. The neighbourhood is very posh, with picture-perfect houses standing at equal distances, their elegant designs glowing softly under the street lamps. The chill in the air adds a crispness to the atmosphere, as the two of your footsteps break the silence where no one is stirring.

Wonwoo’s fingerprint unlocks the door with a beep and he immediately steps inside. The door remains open as you linger in the cold night air outside, hesitant.

“What’s wrong? Do you really enjoy standing out in the cold?” The man cranes his neck to look at you.

With a soft sigh, you step in.

The minute the door shuts closed behind you, Wonwoo’s mouth latches onto yours. He attacks you almost, passion overflowing from him as he presses you against the door in a frenzy.

You knew this would happen. Yet you came in.

There is no one at fault but you.

He shoves his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth like a starved man while his hands do a quick work to shake off your coat from your shoulders. The warmth from his body blankets you in an addictive sense of comfort, his hands moving to hold both of your wrists in a bruising hold against the door.

There is no escape.

Your body submits, relaxing against his as you let yourself feel every bit of the sensations. When Wonwoo pulls away, the space between the two of you charges with tension, the heat increasing with the way his dark eyes bore into yours.

“I have been wanting to do that for a while now.” He breathes, his voice gruff. He lets go of your hands and skims his fingers on your back, pulling down the zipper of your blouse.

Your lips are swollen, his bruising kiss lingering on your lips as you unconsciously lick them, trapped in the dark pools of his eyes.

You are so ruined.

Wonwoo takes a few steps back, his fingers working deftly to remove his windbreaker and his turtleneck. You see him wince due to the bruise when he moves his body and you stop him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Maybe we should get a look at that first.”

Wonwoo scoffs and you know he will not listen to you. You are about to force him when he takes off his trousers that leaves him in his boxers only and all thoughts fly out of your mind when you see the bulge forming in them.

Wonwoo sports that cocky, insufferable look on his face. “Stop drooling, Princess Lawful.”

You frown, ready to refute when he utters the next words that stun you into silence.

“On your knees.” The playful expression is gone from his face as he looks at you dead in the eyes, palming himself through his underwear.

You are a frozen statue, waiting for him to repeat himself because there is no way he just said that.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he grunts, yanking you closer to him by your arm. He looks down on you as you feel his breaths on your skin when he whispers. “Get on your knees. And take your top off. I want you to suck my cock. I want to see that nerdy face choking, messy with tears.”

Your throat is a dessert. Your eyes are wide with horror, your hands clenched into tight fists as you try to wrap your head around his dirty words. Wonwoo easily pushes you on your knees, your mind still trying to catch up with what is happening. He, in fact, removes your blouse for you, leaving you in your nude coloured bra as goosebumps break into your skin. His intimidating bulge stands in front of your face and you sense a rush of panic within you.

There is no way you can do this.

Fuck, this is your first time giving a blowjob to someone.

But you cannot let him know that. You would rather plunge yourself in the cold sea and get eaten by sharks. So, with the same determination that helped you finish law school with straight A’s, you set out to prove yourself. With trembling hands, you pull down his boxers and the image of his long, thick length is daunting, immediately making your throat hurt.

Wonwoo's hands snake around your neck, his fingers caressing the base of your low pony as he pushes your mouth closer to his dick.

Shy and unsure, you hold him using both hands, the hard, warm member a foreign sensation beneath your fingertips. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a kittenish link.

“Stop playing,” Wonwoo warns. “You know how to suck cock, right? Or do I need to teach you that?”

Offended, you push your glasses up and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking on his precum. The breathy sigh that parts from Wonwoo’s lips indicates that you are on the right path. You continue sucking, covering more of his length, adding an inch bit by bit to get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.

Wonwoo, however, does not have the patience and he extends an arm to the wall to support himself while using the other to hold your neck as an anchor as he starts to thrust in and out your mouth in shallow movements.

“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he pants, his eyes trained on your face, your swollen, spit coated lips wrapped around his length as you look up at him with doe eyes behind your steel frames. “This is my new favourite scene, Princess, you dressed for work and on your knees for me.” He grunts, increasing his pace, his thick length going deeper and making you choke.

The entire scene is so erotic, his filthy words paired with gurgling noises coming deep from your throat and tears that blur your vision. Between your legs, your pussy throbs with pain as an urge to touch yourself grows. You can not do that due to the layers of clothes still covering your lower half so you press your thighs together, focusing on getting him off.

You hollow your throat to the best of your capability and his length goes in deeper than before, prompting you to choke and pull back your mouth from him, bursts of cough coming from your lips.

In front of you, Wonwoo stands, panting harshly as he rubs his slick length, his dark eyes watching you wipe your tears and spit while trying to stop the coughs. “You look so hot right now.” He breathes, the dark depravity in his voice making you look at him.

“I want to come on your face so bad but more than that, I need to get my cock inside you. Fuck you so good you will feel me tomorrow morning when you are at your meeting.”

You can only blink as your pussy throbs at his promise. By now, you are sure that your underwear is a soaking mess.

“Stand up, Princess Lawful.” He orders with a smirk on his face. You immediately comply, standing on shaky legs. Wonwoo wastes no time to press your back flat against a nearby wall, his fingers rapidly working on taking off your belt. He unzips your dress pants and pulls them down halfway along with your underwear in record time. His eyes remain focused on your core and you shy away from his gaze, covering yourself with your hands. He immediately pushes them away and easily slips a finger inside your wet core.

“Oh god,” you moan, your eyes falling closed. Wonwoo scoffs, a cruel smile of lust kissing his lips as he whispers in your ear, “Fuck, look at you. You are dripping. Did sucking my cock turn on so much?”

You nod, an arm coming up to hold his shoulder, the firm muscles feeling so good under your touch.

“Say it,” he commands, using his free hand to grip your face in a firm hold, squishing your cheeks.

“Y-yes.” You whisper, chasing his fingers with your hips. You need him inside you so bad you are going insane.

“Good little slut.” He grins before lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting his entire length in one swift motion.

“Fuck!” The first thing you feel is pain, the entirety of his thick length shoving inside you so hard you swear you feel him in your belly.

Deep in the back of your mind, there is the sensible part of you who shakes her head at your desperation and carelessness. Even though you have an IUD, you still should have used a condom.

That is the issue, all common sense and logic fly out the window when you are near this man. That is why he is so bad for you, for your heart.

Wonwoo suddenly presses his lips to yours, breaking your train of thought. His tongue moves inside your mouth in tandem with his thrusts as your entire body jolts at the force. His fingers hold your ass and the back of your thighs in a bruising grip as he drives inside you mercilessly, each thrust harder than the last one.

You are going to come right away.

Wonwoo however decides to stop. His grip on you loosens as a harsh pant comes out of his mouth, his eyes scorching with animalistic lust.

Then, before you can question or protest, he roughly tugs on your arm, pulling you with him as you two cross the short distance to his bedroom. Standing in front of the bed, he unceremoniously pushes you on the soft mattress, murmuring. “Lie down.”

You do as told, shuffling back into the bed with confusion as Wonwoo fully takes off your trousers and your underwear.

“I can fuck you better like this, on the bed.” He grins as an explanation, making heat rush to your face. Not wasting time, he slides back inside you, a low groan of pleasure falling from his lips at your warmth. The sound makes your pussy clench around his length as a soft mewl falls from your lips when he hits that sensitive spot within you.

“Fuck, keep making sounds like that and I will come right now.”

You once again clench at the idea and a smirk graces Wonwoo’s lips. “You want that, no?” He increases his pace, his right hand tightly holding your waist while his left hand slips down a strap of bra from one of your shoulders, exposing your breast. He squeezes your breasts, pinching and tugging at your nipples which heightens your pleasure. You throw your head back, your fingers gripping onto his arms as you whine, “P-please, I want to come.”

“Such a good slut, begging so nicely.” He huffs, using both hands to grip your waist, his cock driving deeper inside you than ever before due to the angle. Your legs shake and your toes curl as you taste your orgasm coming.

Wonwoo leans on top of you, covering your body with his as he licks his way from your collarbone and below, all the while moving in and out of you. His lips wrap around your nipple as he sucks and bites and finally the coil in your belly snaps.

Your body spasms, a loud cry of pleasure falling from your lips as you are thrown over the edge and taken away by your release. Wonwoo spurts inside you at the same time, his low groans of pleasure and strings of curses sounding like honey to your ears.

For some time, you find yourself lost in your head, your senses fading into the background. Time slips away as you enter a trance-like state, the aftershocks of pleasure radiating through your body and paired with the day’s exhaustion, you feel like you are floating away on a cloud of bliss and ecstasy.

After a long while, when you are fully back in your senses, you see Wonwoo lying beside you, his eyes closed. Judging from the way he is breathing, he seems asleep.

The clock on the wall reads 10 pm.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you sit up on the bed, your joints feeling sore.

You can not shake the overwhelming pity you feel for yourself.

This is what happens when you cross the lines with a guy like Wonwoo.

Alone and exhausted, an emotional mess as you drown in self pity while the guy that has ruined you physically and emotionally sleeps away peacefully.

Even asleep, he radiates an exquisite beauty, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the lights that fill the room. As you gaze at him, you find yourself wondering what it might be like if this were love rather than lust—if you could stir his heart to race and flutter as yours does for him.

How silly. How pathetic.

With weary steps, you move through his house, first going to the bathroom to clean yourself before gathering your scattered clothes and putting them on. You are about to leave when you suddenly remember the bruise on his back.

With a sigh, you take an ice pack from the refrigerator and wrap it in a towel. Then you pull out the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet, slightly annoyed to find it untouched and brand new, just like you left it a few months ago. He has yet to use it no matter how many times you requested him to.

Shaking your head, you place the kit on the bedside table, taking out some compression bandage and a painkiller and placing them outside and within his view. Then, finding a sticky pad, you scribble some notes and stick them on the bottle of the pills, hoping he sees it and follows your instructions.

When you are done setting everything, the man is still fast asleep, his face squished against the mattress as he lies on his front. Gently, you tiptoe near him and peek at the bruise on his back.

He will be in pain later for sure.

Tentatively, you place the ice pack on his back before quickly stepping out of his bedroom. The towel will diffuse the chill so he will not wake up immediately, giving you enough time to leave.

As you drive your car through the quiet neighbourhood, you make a promise to yourself.

This was the last time you crossed boundaries with him.

You loathe this emptiness in your soul as you drive away from him late at night, feeling discarded after a quick fuck when all your heart desires is to lay in the warmth of his arms.

That is not your reality and you accepted it.

From tomorrow, there will be no you and Wonwoo beyond the professional responsibilities that tie you together.

—

NEXT MORNING, 10 AM

As soon as the meeting is over you head for your office and sink down on your chair, sagging into the leather with a deep sigh of relief. The delicious aroma of the coffee heals you as you take a sip, a soft groan falling from your lips.

Today is going to be a long day. You definitely should have prepared better for such a day because being sleep deprived along with a throbbing ache between your legs is definitely not the way to go about it.

You realize Wonwoo did keep his promise as you can still feel him between your legs, the memories and sensations of last night still too vivid.

Shaking your head at the unwelcome thoughts, you begin pulling out all the necessary files from your bag and spreading them on your desk when there is a knock at the door.

You look up and before you can tell the person to come in, the door opens.

Wonwoo steps in, making your heart shudder as if the mere thought of him has summoned his physical presence.

He looks dashing as ever, sporting his signature cocky smile as he closes the door behind him. “Good morning, Princess Lawful.” He chirps.

Frowning, you push up your glasses, not finding his presence amusing. You remember the events of last night and the promise you made to yourself. Now is the perfect time to honour it.

“What are you doing here?” You question, standing up from your seat.

He pouts, approaching you. “Am I so unwelcome? Had some business nearby. Thought I would drop by your office.”

“Do you have anything to consult with me?”

“Yes,” he hums, his gaze sultry. He comes closer to you and easily wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his body, his eyes fixed on your lips. Once again, you are overpowered by his touch, smell and everything he makes you feel.

This must stop.

Mustering all your strength, you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. The man stumbles back, looking at you with confusion. With a deep, calming breath, you take a step back and focus your gaze on him, your sharp eyes piercing through his.

“This is over.”

“What?”

“Whatever we were doing…messing around, it is over. I am done.”

“What?” His mouth is agape. He looks absolutely stunned as if your words make no sense to him.

“Mister Jeon Wonwoo, I do not owe you any explanation.” Your tone is sharp, matching your gaze. He frowns, his eyes going dark as he mirrors your gaze. “From now on, I will not be seeing you outside of work, is that clear?”

You see his jaw clench. He inhales a sharp breath, the soft sound cutting through the air fizzling with tension.

“Fine,” he spits with eyes filled with an accusatory intensity so heavy that you feel a physical weight. “Whatever you say. Let's not see each other again.”

You nod, stiff.

You know very well it is a lie. These words are a mere facade of an agreement, bound to be broken. You will see him again for you are two magnets with fierce, crackling attraction.

Nothing can keep you apart.

The air thickens with heavy tension, your sharp gazes locked with each other, cutting through the air and charging the atoms with an unending flare. If someone listened closely, they might even hear the hisses of sparks forming and spreading all over.

Sibilance, they call it.

want more of them? head over to my patreon and subscribe here to read their first meeting from wonwoo's pov!

A/N: before y'all think this is the end let me share my plan. so I will be turning this into a series which I will upload from time to time. they will be short episodes, kind of like a slice of life story which will mainly focus on the relationship of these two and their growth. so buckle up, because their journey is just beginning! as always, if you enjoyed reading this, please reblog and share your thoughts. i would love to hear what you guys have to say and what expectations you have from this couple!

on a side note, can we just talk about the overwhelming response of the teaser? like 1k notes in such a short time and also for just a teaser? y'all really love bad boy wonwoo huh. i was pleasantly surprised by the numbers it was doing, even better than a few of my full length fics. not complaining tho! ><

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