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carmenberzattosgf · 6 months ago

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NSFW alphabet : carmen berzatto

Content: fem reader, pure filth, size kink (easily skippable), daddy kink (easily skippable), dom/sub dynamics,

Word count: 5605

A/N: This is really filthy. I got a bit carried away as you can tell by the word count. Enjoy ! <<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He’s a clinger. Carmy gets needy and touchy after sex, so he’s not going to leave your side. After normal sex, he lays on top of you for awhile because he loves the closeness of the physical contact. He’s pressing kisses all over your neck and mumbling how much he loves you over and over again. When it’s finally time to get up, he’s bringing a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean up between your legs. He’s so sweet and tender in moments like this, diligent in cleaning up the cum from your thighs.

After a dom/sub type of scene, Carmy takes such good care of you. Beforehand he stashes everything he needs beside the bed so he doesn’t have to leave you afterwards. He stores the supplies in a wicker bin: pH balanced sensitive skin-safe wipes, a bottle of water, protein bars and other snacks (i.e chocolate), soothing ointment, your favorite t-shirt of his, hair ties, and even one of those instant ice packs if you need it.

If you’re in that floaty place, he narrates every single thing he’s doing. Even though you can’t speak, he still wants to make sure you’re aware of what he’s doing before he does it.

“Okay, baby I’mma put your hair up into a messy bun to get it off your neck.”

“It’s going to be a little bit cold at first but I’m using these wipes to clean up between your legs.”

“I’m going to roll you over so I can take care of your bottom, and put some ointment on for you. I’ve already got a pillow to support your stomach.”

Carmy is so gentle while he takes care of you. It’s his favorite part of a scene, not getting off, but tending to you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to try and sit up so you can take some sips of water. Can you do that for me?”

You’re stubborn and just wanna fall asleep in that floaty place so Carmen literally has to prop you up with pillows and force a straw between your lips.

“Three big sips—there we go. Atta girl, good job.”

The best part of aftercare is saved for last, cuddling. Carmy lays you on top of his chest so you’re not laying on your raw backside, and softly pets your hair until you fall asleep.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He likes his hands. They do everything for him in the kitchen. They’re skilled and precise. Carmy is not the type of guy to be really into parts of his body, but his hands are alright.

Now for you, he genuinely loves all of your body. Your face, your eyes, everything. However, he’s a major boob guy. He likes them in all sizes. He just loves tits (peep the mommy issues). One of his favorite parts of sex is getting to leave bite marks all over your chest. Send him a nude with your tits in it? Bye! He’s a goner.

Thighs come in close second. He grips your thighs so hard during sex that sometimes you can make out small finger sized bruises in the mirror afterwards. Much like your boobs, he loves to mark up your thighs with hickies. He knows that he’s the only one that gets to see those marks so he leaves a bunch.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s obsessed with cumming inside of you. The sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt for the first time permanently rewires his brain. He’s convinced there’s no better feeling that filling you up with his cum. He’s nasty about it too, pressing any that has dripped out of you back into your cunt with his fingers.

“Gotta keep you nice and filled up for me. I don’t want anything to go to waste. Here—“ He reaches for a pillow and lifts up your hips, placing it under your back. “There we go. Now it can’t spill out.”

If he can’t cum inside of you, he cums on your stomach. The thing about Carmy is that he cums a lot, like the volume is massive. When he cums on your stomach, you’re covered in him. He’ll be fisting his cock for a good twenty seconds before the spurts of cum finally slow down. It’s all over you, dripping off of your hips onto the sheets. The first thing Carmy does is reach over for his phone on the bedside table. He takes a picture of you from the neck down, completely painted with white. The picture immediately goes into his locked camera folder.

Finally, Carmy would rather cum in your mouth than on your face. He doesn’t want to get any in your eye. He’s truly a sweetheart (sometimes). Once, you stuck out your tongue full of cum for him, and his hard on came right back. His body was ready to go again after seeing his cum drip off of your tongue, down your neck, and into your cleavage. He’s a simple man at heart.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really wants to try shibari with you, like really bad. He’s been researching heavily into it, about all of the knots and the types of rope. He doesn’t want to get into serious stuff like suspension, but he wants to cover your body in pretty and elaborate knots. Carmy’s mainly focused on the types of shibari that restrains your arms behind your back, making your chest jut out. He wants to surround your breasts with intricate knots. He might mess around with some patterns on your hips and thighs, but he’d rather tie up your arms, not your legs.

He’s drawn to shibari because it’s almost mixing art intimacy ( because shibari doesn’t have to involve sex or pleasure). It’s a time that he can spend getting close to you while you’re letting go and trusting him completely. The tying up process isn’t short; it can take awhile. He thinks it would make your relationship stronger, and also let him be dominate in a way that’s different from just straight up sex.

It will take him a very very long time to ever bring it up to you, though. He doesn’t want to freak you out or make you uncomfortable. He understands how much control a person is giving up when someone restrains them.

In all seriousness, you probably ask him about it after you see a tab open on his laptop. He’s already left for work for the day and forgot to close out the tab. You grab his laptop, wanting to do the daily mini, and when you open it up, you’re met with an in depth rope tying tutorial.

You decide to tread carefully on the topic when he gets home from work that day, since it seems like he was keeping it a secret. Once he’s gotten a shower, Carmy curls up with you on the couch to watch a little tv before going to bed.

“I saw something interesting today, Carm.”

“Yeah? What might that be, baby?”

“Well, I was using your laptop to do the daily mini like I always do, and I saw a tab pulled up. Something to do with ropes?” Carmy instantly tenses up like he’s entered freeze mode.

“Oh—uh, uhm. Sorry you’re probably like—freaked out now and—“ Carmy says quickly, without taking a breath. He’s on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Baby, baby. Calm down. You’re all good. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” You start to comb through his hair with your fingers, massaging at his scalp in a way that relaxes him. “Why don’t you tell me all about it, yeah?”

He does just that, explaining shibari and all the research he’s done into it. Carmy’s a bit surprised when you agree to it without any hesitation.

“You know you don’t have do to this for me. I’m not going to be upset if you say no.”

“I trust you, Carmen. I love you and I know you’ll take care of me and keep me safe. If I don’t like it I’ll be honest with you.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

This one is going to heavily depend on when you get into a relationship with Carmy. When he’s newly in New York, trying to become the greatest chef of all time? He’s horribly inexperienced. He barely knows how to interact with the opposite sex without getting red in the face. However, he’s eager to learn! He might not know exactly what he’s doing in the moment with you, but he wants you to feel good. He’s determined to make you orgasm. He asks what feels good and what doesn’t feel good. Carmy’s not afraid to ask you questions during sex either.

Now if you meet him after he’s back in Chicago, he has more experience under his belt. New York and all of the places he traveled to during those years away from home gave him opportunities to become more confident with sex. Although, he still gets nervous about it, especially when he’s sleeping with someone for the first time. The awkwardness hasn’t gone away completely.

At this point in your relationship with Carmy, he knows what he’s doing. He pays attention to your body and the way you react to his touch. Carmy learns what you like before you even have the chance to tell him. Every touch of his hands is purposeful to bring you pleasure.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Missionary. No question about it. He wants to be able to look at you while he fucks you. He loves the closeness of the position, getting to feel your legs wrapped around his waist. It’s so intimate, and Carmy craves that intimacy. His favorite part of missionary is when you both are so close to the edge, with your foreheads resting against each other. He gets to look in your eyes and praise you. “You’re so pretty. So fucking gorgeous—fuck, baby.”

“Taking me so well— always take me so well.” “Love you, love you, love you so much.”

Oh, and his other favorite part about missionary is getting to kiss you. He fucking loves kissing you during sex. Sure, it’s messy, with teeth and lips clashing together half the time, but he cannot get enough of your mouth. That moment when you have to break the kiss to moan out because of how good he feels inside of you is what he loves about kissing you in missionary.

Carmy also enjoys anything that lets him see your face. With your legs over each of his shoulders, he’s found he can hit even deeper inside of you. Don’t worry, he puts a small pillow underneath the small of your back to make you comfortable. The angle makes your eyes roll back.

If he’s honest with himself he fucking loves the position where he practically forces your thighs to meet your chest. His cock his so fucking deep inside of you he just has to make comments about it. “That too deep? Yeah? Can you feel me in your stomach?” Oh, and when he starts pressing his hand on your lower stomach so you can feel him moving in and out of you? The sensation is almost too much.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

This is Carmen Berzatto here. He’s so serious about everything, and that applies to sex, too. He’s just not the type to joke around during sex. He craves the intimacy of sex and doesn’t want to make light of the connection. That doesn’t mean sex with Carmy is overly serious. More so that he would rather not incorporate humor into sex.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carmy is so neat and meticulous. He literally cuts pieces of tape with a knife so it has a clean edge. With all things considered, he keeps it neat downstairs. Definitely not bald, but he trims up frequently. He cannot stand it when it’s crazy down there.

For his partner? He does not give a fuck about the grooming of down there. Not one single bit. Do whatever you want and he will still be a happy man.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

So intimate. Genuinely, he’s so romantic. Carmy’s kissing all over your body, praising every inch of your skin. It’s honestly jarring at first how intimate and intense he can be in the bedroom. Carmy puts his all into sex, much like he puts his all into the kitchen. He holds you so close the entire time. If you’re riding him on the couch? Yeah, he’s got both arms wrapped around you so your chest is pressed to his. This lets him make eye contact if he wants, or lets him moan into the crook of your neck. Carmy literally wants as much of his skin touching yours as possible during sex. Even if he has you on your stomach, he’s not going to settle for just doggy style because there’s not enough contact. Instead he’s leaning over you holding you up so your back presses against his chest. He sloppily kisses your shoulders and the back of your neck from this position.

Let’s talk about eye contact—he’s staring right through you. He’s just so observant and doesn’t want to miss a single expression you make. God, the look in his eyes during sex practically puts you under a spell. He looks down at you through the bottom of his eyes with blown out pupils.

So yeah Carmy makes sex extremely intimate every time without fail.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Most of the time when Carmy jacks off it’s all about efficiency. He’s not trying to take time out of his day to get off. He’s the type to get off in the shower after work. It’s quick and rough, but he knows how to get himself off fast.

Now, when you first come into his life? His routine changes a bit. Before you two start dating, Carmy masturbates to the idea of you. He honestly hates himself a bit for it, but it happens on accident.

He hops out of the shower after work, puts on a pair of boxer briefs, and sits down on his couch. He didn’t touch himself in the shower, wanting to build up the tension a little bit.

When Carmy starts touching himself, his hands move slowly. Recently, he’s learned how much he likes teasing himself. So, he palms over his covered length, applying the right amount of pressure to make his hips twitch. Without even realizing it, Carmy’s mind wanders to you.

You’ve been plaguing his mind all week long in the kitchen. Sydney assigned your prep to be right next to his, and he hasn’t been able to keep his mind off of you. In the kitchen, he keeps getting distracted by your pretty smile, and by the little jokes you make during the lunch rush.

Gradually, the hand steadily pressing down on his hard length isn’t his own anymore. Instead he pictures your hand as the one working on him; that delicate, dainty hand of yours he’s watched prep food all week.

Carmy gives up on teasing himself once the images of you pop into his head. He hastily pushes down his boxers to his thighs. The tip of his cock leaks with precum, dripping onto his length. Carmy’s head falls back in a choked moan when he finally grips himself. His heart races as he gently strokes his cock. It’s much different from his usual fast pace, but he’s trying to picture how you would do it; on how your hands would be so delicate compared to his callused ones. Carmy wonders if you would tease him, or if you would be dead set on bringing him to orgasm quickly.

It’s a slippery slope when Carmen starts to picture you taking his cock into your mouth. His hand starts to pump faster as the image grows more vivid in his mind. He’s lost the gentleness of his movements, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is the vision of you on your knees in front of him. Your lips are swollen as they stretch around his cock. He thinks about the sounds you would make—how you would moan with his dick taking up your mouth. Spit would dribble from your lips onto your chin as you bob your head on his length. What brings him to the edge, though, is the idea of fucking your face. He would hold your head delicately in his hands, but thrust with his hips deep into your throat. Tears would slip from your eyes as he shoves you all the way down so your nose meets the skin above his dick.

Carmy cums hard all over his stomach, wishing it was your throat instead. He swears he blacks out for a second from the pleasure. When the post orgasm clarity hits, he hastily cleans himself up. Carmy tells himself he won’t do it again, picture you while he’s masturbating, but he knows that’s a load of bullshit.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding— Carmy and breeding go together like peanut butter and jelly. It’s why he’s always cumming inside of you. He wants to show everyone your his, and what’s a better way than knocking you up with his kid? He’s low key obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant.

Overstimulation— Carmy’s a soft dom. He wants to make you cum over and over and over again before he even thinks about orgasming. His goal is for your head to be spinning by the end of it.

Spanking— Carmy’s into spanking, okay? However, before he even thinks about doing it in the bedroom he talks to you about it multiple times at length. He clarifies a safe word with you and establishes your limits. You do the same thing with him because safe words and boundaries go both ways! Normally, he’s only going to spank you as a punishment for something. The way you whimper and moan in his lap as he spanks you makes him so hard. It honestly gives Carmy a rush to see you dripping from his hand coming down on your ass.

Size kink— It’s definitely arises from insecurities about his height, let’s be honest here. Regardless of your height though, Carmy just likes feeling that he’s bigger than you. It’s why he’s so ripped. No matter how tall you are he’s got enough muscle to hold you down in bed. Now, if you are shorter than him, even better.

The size kink appears in other ways other than just pure body size. For one, it drives him crazy how much smaller your hands are compared to his. Seeing your dainty hand wrapped around his cock drives Carmy up the wall. You can barely wrap your fingers all the way around his length.

He loves to watch as your cunt takes his fingers. They’re so much wider and longer than your own, so he goes slow.

Finally, his size kink comes into play most when he’s fucking you. He’s soothing you while he works his cock into your cunt. Once he’s all the way in, he can’t help but point out of the sight of him inside of you. “Look. You see that?” Carmy asks while drawing your attention to the small bulge in you stomach, right above your mound. It’s hard to see when he’s not moving, so he lightly thrusts in deeper so the bulge moves.

“F-fuck, yeah— I can see that,” you whine in response. Carmy’s hand moves over the bulge and he presses down, hard, before he starts rolling his hips into you at a quick pace.

“Such a good girl taking my cock like this. I’m surprised it even fit, baby. Taking me so fucking well.”

Praise— He loves giving praise and being praised. He’s calling you everything. His love, his good girl, his princess, his baby. He’s telling you how good you’re doing for him, and how perfect you are for him.

“Made for me. You know that? Fucking perfect.”

“You’re so pretty. My pretty girl.”

“I love you so much. Fuck—you feel so good, squeezing me like that—shit.”

And you offer praise back in return because goodness knows Carmy needs to hear it after all those years being insulted in the kitchen.

“You’re so pretty, too. You make me feel so good, Carmy.”

“Love these muscles,” you say while feeling his abs as he thrusts into you. “So hot how strong you are, baby.” Those types of comments from you make his brain short circuit.

Daddy kink— Okay, nothing turns him on more than being called daddy. It just, does something to his brain. A pretty girl like you? Calling him daddy? Begging him to fuck you? Yeah, he’s close to cumming in his pants from that. It’s just the soft dom thing he has going for him. He wants to take care of you in every way possible, make you feel good, and provide for you.

“Please daddy, need you,” you beg.

“I got you sweet girl. Daddy’s going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

L= Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers a good old mattress. It’s basic but it’s private and comfortable. Carmy also likes fucking on a couch, too. Mainly because if he’s started getting hot and heavy on a couch, he’d rather fuck you there than carry you to the bedroom. He’s all about efficiency!

Part of him enjoys fucking at the restaurant. Not all the time, though, but there’s something about fucking you in a locked office that really gets him going. He has to keep his palm clasped over your mouth to keep you quiet. Whenever he has sex with you at the restaurant, it’s always fast, rough, and passionate. Usually, it’s to release stress, but even if it’s not, you’re going to have trouble walking straight afterwards. Richie makes an all knowing face when you walk out of the office, and heat builds up in your cheeks as you get out of the front doors as fast as possible.

Oh, and Carmy loves to get on his knees and eat you out while you’re sitting on the kitchen counter at his apartment.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. Anything at all. When he’s into someone, he’s into them. Your touch alone can be enough to turn him on.

With that being said, there are some specific things that drive Carmy crazy. For one, you wearing his clothes.

One time you walked into the Bear before opening hours wearing one of his classic white t-shirts. He thought he was about to have a brain aneurysm seeing you in his clothes. The way the fabric draped over your body— yeah he had to take you back into the office as soon as you walked into the restaurant.

Speaking of clothes, dresses and skirts are his favorite articles of clothing on you. He thinks that you look so very pretty in them, and he also likes the easy access.

As mentioned in K, if you whisper anything in his ear involving the word “daddy”, he’s dragging you off somewhere immediately.

Thinking about this specifically at some kind of chefs’ gala. Carmen’s been in a circle of chefs from around the area talking for what feels like hours, now. All you want to do right now is go home. You make your way up to Carmy, and balance on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you going to be done soon, daddy? I’d rather go home and spend time with you.”

You can see the way Carmy’s hands tighten around the glass in his hand before he speaks to the people around him. “If you’ll excuse me, folks. My girl isn’t feeling well so I’m going to take her home. Glad to have gotten to talk to you all.”

Yeah, Carmy drives to the darkest part of the parking lot and tells you to get into the back seat. He can’t wait until he gets home to fuck your brains out.

N = No (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Anything that would actually hurt you. He limits stuff like spanking to just his hand. He refused to use anything else for impact play. He won’t do CNC ever. Like never ever.

Carmy also won’t be a full on sub himself. He loves control, and needs to be in control to have a good time. The idea of losing control and being tied up is enough to send him into a panic attack.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Carmy loves eating pussy. He wants to stay in between your legs all day long. He won’t shut up about how good you taste. “So good, baby. Wanna taste some?” He’ll say before pressing a soaking wet finger to your lips.

There’s so much to say about munch Carmen. He’s so fucking good at it, too. He alternates between licking and sucking at your clit in a way that makes your vision go blurry. He knows enough about your anatomy to pull back the hood with his thumb so he can suck right on the exposed bud. The first time he does it, you swear stars explode in your field of vision.

He just LOVES eating you out! He gets to look up at you with those big blue eyes as you writhe against his face in pleasure. It makes him feel useful and needed, if he’s being honest. He could probably cum just from eating you out. The feeling of your fingers tugging in his hair, the sounds of your cries in his ears, and the pressure of your thighs closing around his head makes Carmy moan into your cunt like a madman.

So yeah Carmy prefers to give head, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop you from blowing him. He tends to not last as long, though. Your warm mouth around him, sucking and licking at his tip. The way your take him all the way back in your throat. Fuck— the feeling of you gagging around him as his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s praising you the entire time, too.

“Look at you—fuck. Taking my cock in that pretty mouth of yours so well.”

“So good, baby. So fucking good with your mouth—holy shit.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

The answer is all of the above. Most of the time he prefers to take his time with you because he wants to savor the moment with you. Carmy’s favorite way to fuck you is slow and deep. He wants you to feel him all the way in your stomach. If he’s in a mood, however, he’s all for being fast and rough. Ultimately his pace is going to be whatever gets you off the best.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t his favorite thing ever, but he has them often. He hates how busy his work is purely because it prevents him from having sex with you as often and as long as he would like to. Quickies usually happen at the restaurant in his office. That’s where a fast and rough pace comes into play, because there’s one goal in mind; Get off, and get off fast before someone notices. If there’s just way too many people in the restaurant, he’s not opposed to taking you in the backseat of his car for a quick fuck.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Oh he’s for sure open to experimenting in the bedroom. He will try just about anything that you’re willing to try.

As for risks, he’s down to take calculated risks. However, once he fucked you in the restaurant bathroom while the place was still the beef because the office didn’t have a lock (He fixed that during the remodel). It was all going great until Fak started banging on the door shouting that he was about to piss himself. Real mood killer. Now, Carmy is more careful about the risks he takes.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Carmy can last for quite awhile. He has so much pent up energy that he can keep going and going. He won’t admit it, but he one hundred percent thinks about his time at Noma to keep himself from cumming. He only has to do it sometimes, though.

Additionally, Carmy is a two rounds max kind of a guy. There’s just only so many times that he can cum before he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. Remember, he did fall asleep on a prep table that one time.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Carmy doesn’t haven’t any toys for himself. His hand has always done the job, and he saw no reason to get something else.

With you, he’ll use a toy from time to time, but it’s rare. He’d much rather make you squirm with his own hand, or his mouth than with a toy. It gives him a sense of pride when he’s made you shake without using anything other than his own body.

Now, I can see him buying you a really expensive vibration to use while he’s away on trips. As long as you face time him when you use it so he can get off too, of course.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Carmen is such a fucking tease. He loves teasing you in and out of the bedroom with his words. When it comes to in the bedroom, half of the fun for him is teasing. He’s running the head of his cock through your folds mumbling stuff like:

“Want me to put it in, baby? I can feel how wet you are right now.”

“C’mon. You gotta say it with your words. I don’t know what you want unless you tell me, honey.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans a lot into your neck. Curses a bunch too, like strings of curse words. Carmen can get pretty loud if he’s feeling really good. When he’s close to cumming, Carmen’s voice degrades into a whine that makes you dig your nails into his back to hear it again. As it reaches that point, he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds. “N-need you to cum. Please cum for me, baby. Need to f-feel you cum around my cock.”

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

One word. Choking. Carmy loves choking. He’s on top of you and wraps his hand around your throat just enough to cut off the blood circulation for half a second. You go absolutely crazy when his hand wraps around your throat because the euphoria is so intense. It’s like you’re on cloud nine.

Sometimes when he’s fucking you from behind he wraps his bicep around your neck to have the same affect on you.

Alternatively, Carmen realizes that he also enjoys being choked, at least a little bit. It happens naturally when you're on top riding him. His head falls back and exposes his neck, so you just reach forward and squeeze a little. Carmy’s eyes pop wide open as he feels the blood rush to his head. It’s so blissful he’s just laying with his head thrown back and his mouth open as you release the pressure.

“Does that feel good for you, too?” you ask. Carmy can’t even speak, he just nods dumbly at your question. “That’s why I love it so much when you do it to me, Carm.” When you squeeze again, he’s spilling into you with a choked groan.

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

His cock is so fucking thick oh my god. It’s a bit longer than average length wise, but the girth is massive. You’re not even sure you can take it when he pulls his cock out for the first time. He has to fuck you so slow the first time you have sex because the stretch is just so much. He spends at least the first five minutes inside of you staying completely still to let you adjust to his size. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s down to have sex whenever and wherever (as long as it’s private). Carmy feels like he doesn’t fuck you enough as is, which is why you two are increasingly having quickies in his office as his time becomes more consumed by the Bear.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Carmy is very much awake up until the point he finishes your aftercare. Meanwhile the second you cum you’re fighting your eyelids begging Carmy to cuddle you to sleep. He has a job to do, though, he needs to clean you up, and carry you to the bathroom so you don’t get a UTI. Once he’s finished with after care he’s out like a light with you tucked in his arms, resting on his chest.

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starseungs · 5 months ago

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kim seungmin x gn!reader. fluff, humor, apartment neighbors au. 0.7k wc.

note: whipped this up for no reason other than i was feeling like writing something short before i write another entry in my college crush series !! tune in for whose entry is next 👀💌 (this drabble is for you @starlostseungmin have fun)

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[ 9:01 PM ] A pained groan spills out of your mouth, adding to the uncomfortable thumping you were unfortunately feeling. “You cannot be fucking serious.”

While nine in the evening wasn’t exactly that late into the night, it wasn’t objectively early either. For those who liked to sleep early, they would’ve already gone to bed at least half an hour ago—and even for those who slept late, one would expect that they would be trying to relax by now.

It wasn’t that you particularly kept a strict sleeping schedule where you had to be in dreamland by this hour, but the you right now really wanted for that to happen. Desperately wished for it, even. If sleeping early was the only way to get rid of the horrid migraine you were nursing, then so be it. And on a normal night, that wouldn’t have been a problem for you to achieve.

Except, apparently, this wasn’t any normal night.

Your next-door neighbor’s karaoke session echoed loudly throughout your own apartment, to the point that you’d think you were part of whatever celebration they had going on over there. The booming bass of the speakers rhythmically followed the pounding in your head, accompanied by the carefree voices that seemed to pierce through your eardrums. To put it simply: it was hell on Earth for you right now.

To give your neighbor (and his friends, you assume) some credit, they were actually really good at singing. You could’ve enjoyed their small-scale performance if only you didn’t have a raging headache that made you want to freeze all of them into ice and throw them into the pits of the Antarctic. To make matters even worse, you didn’t even know them.

That was a realization that suddenly came to mind right after you banged irritated knocks on the entrance door next to yours. Too bad for you; you couldn’t even get to contemplate whether this was the right choice to make or not as the door swung open not even five counts later.

“Uh, hello?” The guy before you starts sheepishly, making you suddenly aware of how the voices inside the room immediately ceased upon your knocks. “Are you my neighbor? Were we too loud? I’m so sorry; we’ll stop the singing now!”

See, you would have loved to sass him for it. To throw your frustration over your less-than-ideal state all out at him. Make him feel bad as much as you can. It was petty, but the little mutters inside your head were tempting you to do it—only for you to catch your tongue before all of it got spat out because, fuck.

You didn’t know you had such a hot neighbor.

His hair was dyed a burnt caramel color, falling down softly until right before it reached his eyes that you couldn’t help but stare at. The baggy white shirt he was wearing perfectly hung around his frame, enhancing the comfortable vibe he was exuding. To add salt to the wound, he looked exactly like your type.

“Are you alright?” His concerned question shook you out of your dazed state. “You just seem a little pale for your complexion.”

Now you were sure that all the gods had abandoned you because all you somehow managed to get out was a simple, “I’m sick.”

If you could only pinch yourself as a punishment for ruining your chance of having a decent interaction with this neighbor of yours that seemingly fell down from heaven, you already would’ve. You only felt way worse when you saw his eyes widen before sputtering out a frantic “Shit, I feel so bad now, uh—” He looks back into his apartment. “Do you want some soup? We have some soup. Leftovers—if you’re fine with that. It’s my birthday today, so we have some other stuff if you want some.”

He was rambling. Oh, that’s so cute. He’s so cute, you’re heating up—are you having a fever?

“Soup would be nice,” you mumbled quietly. At this point, you didn’t know if it was because you were completely lost in whatever sickness you were nursing or if it was just a side effect of being in the presence of the angel in front of you.

The guy nods immediately. “Sure,” he replies, stepping aside in an inviting manner. “You could come in while I heat it up for you. We won’t do anything, don’t worry. Call me Seungmin.”

Seungmin. Even his name sounds lovely.

It looks like stranger danger doesn’t apply now—you technically know him already. You could almost see your mother’s disapproving eyes, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Especially since you’ll be bringing home her son-in-law soon.

“I’m Y/N.”

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @lixxpix @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka

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enha-doodles · 5 months ago

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SLYTHERIN GUYS - MOST-TO-LEAST LIKELY TO FALL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT | ✧⁺。

Note : AHH I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONE , I got this as a request in my messages and loved it !! It's my first mtl so I hope y'all like it and if you guys do then I'll probably do more of these 🤭🤭 Also i ranked them first and the reasons are written down in the same order they are ranked :)

Pairing : (mattheo , Tom , theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Warnings : cursing , a bit toxicity ? mention of killing in one part

Most likely ↑

Lorenzo

Theodore

Draco

Mattheo

Tom

Least likely ↓

。　　　　✧　　REASONS　　⁺　　　。 .

1. Okay starting with Lorenzo I just feel like he's a very fluffy , very poetic , knowledgeable guy (my bros a nerd🤓-) . He really understands and observes people , sometimes it can be a bit stalkerish but eh doesn't matter because it's not like he's one with good intentions , he's in slytherin for crying out loud ? But in the process of this if he sees you and you are exactly his type which is exactly like him then BAM!! You're his new obsession . He thinks he's very smart but he's just gullible in my opinion.

2. Theodore nott . Guy who is just as romantic as he is monotonous . I just feel like because he wasn't loved that much by his "family" he seeks it out where and offcourse he likes pretty girls . So if you're caring , outgoing and basically just pretty he'll fall in love with you very quickly . I also kinda feel like he's a bit naive in those things - like he's the type to date a girl he liked at first sight and if she's not good / cheats on him / acts like she's his mother - then he'd break up and become a manwhore . Still very much up on the list to do it again .

3. Draco seems like a lovesick puppy to me solely because he's never recieved any love properly except for his mother which doesn't really count but whatever. He'll probably fall in love at first sight if you're badass but that doesn't mean he'll admit it ? He'll bully you to get close to you then somewhere between just admit due to too much pressure and teasings from his friends . Don't expect him to apologise tho , i know we're all wise enough for that . And please don't be in gryffindor and dream about a malfoy , like seriously please .

4. Mattheo in my opinion is just a born manwhore so he's not most likely to fall in love at first sight . I just see him hooking up alot but then again there's a chance he might if you're different to him than other girls. But I also feel like he'll mistake his love as a challenge and just blow the whole thing out 😭😭 Plus point if you're a slytherin and you're flirty , that could definately grab his attention and make him fall in love with you and GOD FORBID if you also smoke then you'll probably be married to him .

5. You are either on weeds or highly delusional to even think this man is capable of falling in love . Or you've just read too many fanfictions lmao . Tom is super hardworking and overall a very work oriented person so i don't think he interacts with girls much ? Only to connections that can help him , so yeah he's the least likely one . Forget about frst sight , even a love potion won't make him fall in love . Also I feel like even if he DOES fall in love which would be impossible , but if he does then he'd either ice out the poor girl , kill her or force her to marry him . There's no in between "trying out" bullshit here .

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath

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slttygeto · 1 year ago

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SOMETHING I’M MADE FOR

what was i made for? | think i forgot, how to be happy

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you owe suguru a lot. a heartfelt apology is one of them.

જ⁀➴ c.w: hurt/comfort, fem bodied! reader, very unrealistic timelines, i have never taken a 'break' while in a relationship so pls dont come for me, reader is mentioned to being depressed at one point, suguru is going through it, second chance sort of.

જ⁀➴ word count; 1,4k

જ⁀➴ note: idk how to feel abt this tbh

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

There was no need for you to feel this nervous, but given the amount of times you’ve wiped your hand on the fabric of your skirt that would sound a bit ridiculous. You were nervous, and rightfully so. You stand in front of the same door that you used to have the keys to, a very familiar red wooden door with the number of the apartment written in gold sitting at the very top, you raise your hand and your knuckles collider with the wood one, two and then three times before you’re taking two steps behind out of respect and privacy for your… well, you didn’t know what to refer to Suguru in this case.

You try not to overthink it, you came here with good intentions. Over the four weeks with almost contact with the man except for the occasional text messages here and there, you’ve come to realize a couple of things. First, you needed to apologize to him. Four weeks isn’t enough for you to heal completely from the damage caused from feeling so low in a long term relationship, but it was enough time to reflect on how you behaved that night with him. Some of his words might’ve hurt you, but you later on figured that it was because he was right, as bad as it sounds.

And second, you were ready to let go of him if staying with you was draining him. You knew that Suguru would never tell you something like that—he might’ve been blunt with strangers, but the man had such a soft spot and a sweet side with his loved ones. God knows how much he loves you, and how many times he said it. But you were too busy thinking that your problems were burdening him and thus, you didn’t deserve the man.

You hear shuffling from behind the door and when it swings open with and you’re greeted with a Suguru in a lazy attire, you feel your heart get stuck in your throat. You hadn’t told him you were going to show up, but you had texted Satoru earlier the same week to make sure that he was at home. To say that Satoru wanted to kill you was an understatement, the white haired male was very protective of his best friend no matter how dearly you meant to him.

Hey, is suguru gonna be home this week?

Satoru

yeah. he hasn’t been outside in a while. why?

Your heart drops when you read that. Suguru wasn’t the type to stay holed up in his place for too long.

um I thought id give him a visit

Satoru

yeah sure

he’ll appreciate that

You could feel the ice cold stare of his best friend through those messages. Maybe it was a little childish from his part, but after hearing that Suguru was acting unusual, you figured that maybe this time you would gladly take the heat.

You hoped that the person standing in front of you wasn’t any different from the person you abruptly left four weeks ago after a horrible fight, but one quick look at the messy hair and the sleep deprivation visible on his face was enough to make your chest burn with guilt. You’re unsure of what to say for a good few seconds, eyes darting behind him only to find the vacuum in the middle of the middle room and groceries on the counter. It seemed like he was trying to get life back together, did you really decide to pop at the wrong moment?

“Do you need something?” the way he breaks the silence is almost bone chilling and you find yourself smiling nervously at him before holding up bags of food to show him that you got him his favorite. But he doesn’t budge, emotionless eyes darting all over your face in what you assumed to be an attempt at making you feel small. And boy, it was working.

You feel stupid and drop the bags of food in front of him before taking a few steps back.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Suguru knows what you want to talk about.

“About u-“

“About us?” He cuts you off before you can even finish and raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to stop thinking about me for a while?” he continues. “It’s only been a month.”

“A month is more than enough,” you try to reason. “We were together for three years, of course-“

“Should’ve told yourself that when you left me.” Suguru retorts venomously and you start getting the clear picture. While being away from him made you realize how toxic you were behaving towards him, you being out of his life brought out his worst side. You knew this Suguru—he was spiteful, filled with hatred and didn’t hesitate to cut anyone with his words.

“Suguru,” you try again. “Let me come in.” You see him bite back another snarky response and he complies, letting you walk inside.

Once the bags of food are inside and you see him close the door, you hesitate on where to sit. The kitchen seemed to bring back bad memories, so you choose the couch that you both picked when you first moved in here and you watch as he sits on the other side, a little grunt leaving his lips as he leans back and stares at you.

“Seems like you’ve been doing well,” he points out. “I forgot what happy you looked like.”

You squirm a little under his intense gaze, the way his eyes travel from your bare legs up to your upper half then your face. You were used to Suguru’s loving stare, he always looked at you like you meant the entire world to him—but right now? You felt like he could eat you up and spit you out with his eyes.

“I’ve been, um…” You pause and place one leg on top of the other. “Reflecting on how I behaved in our relationship.” You admit and look around the place. He still managed to keep it neat.

“It was wrong of me to explode on you that night, and to keep so many things from you—it doesn’t undo the fact that I said what I said, but I just want to apologize.” Suguru’s eyes seem to soften for a split second when you shift again in your seat.

“For what?” he asks flatly but the way his body relaxes on the couch indicates that he means no harm. “For possibly being depressed when you were with me?”

“No,” you avoid looking at him. “It wasn’t because I was with you it’s because-“

“That’s not what you said that night,” he cuts you off. “I am so perfect and my life is so perfect that being with someone like me made you feel too guilty to tell me about your problems.” He continues before leaning forward, placing both of his elbows on his knees. “My face…apparently, that was also a reason for you not to tell me about your problems.”

“I was wrong,” you start growing a little nervous. “You weren’t the problem, and I’m here to tell you that I am deeply sorry for what happened that night, even if it was needed.”

Suguru is quiet for a few moments, he is in deep thought before he decides to speak up again.

“You know, a month isn’t enough to fall out of love with a person you pictured your future with,” he starts. “But it sure is enough time for you to resent them a little. You’re hurt and confused, everything was going well, or so you thought,”

“Suguru…”

“I thought that maybe I didn’t want to think about you too, that I was doing so much better without you but-�� the dry chuckle makes your heart squeeze. “As you can see, it’s clearly not the case.”

“We don’t have to get back together right now,” your voice is soft and the way you’re trying to make yourself look small on his couch tugs at Suguru’s heart strings.

“I don’t think it’s that easy either,” he admits. “After all, I still do resent you a little.” His honesty is both relieving and hurtful. A part of you knows that it’s a long and difficult process, but if there was any person actually worth fighting for in your life, it was Suguru. “But…” you raise your head when you hear him speak up.

“I think we could try.”

And through tearful eyes and shared hopeful smiles, you are finally able to breathe again.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto x y/n #getou suguru x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #geto angst #geto fluff

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rxzennia · 7 months ago

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nocturnality

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 irregular sleep patterns make for good nightmare consolation

aventurine wakes up in a cold sweat, throwing off the sheets as he sits up abruptly. 4am, his bedside clock reads, and he rubs his eyes. he can’t get the images of the thirty-four slaves he had killed out of his head; he watched the life drain from their eyes, and they were children like him. neither could he be rid of the feeling of blood on his hands, from those whom he stained himself with, and those who stained themselves upon him.

see, he isn't the type to seek anyone out in his moment of vulnerability

he doesn’t trust anyone to not take his fears and use them against him

but he thinks you might be safe

you did put up with him for 5 years and counting, after all

although he still can't really tell if you like working for him

you haven't left yet! and you seem to care about him!

it means something to him, even if you're not outright showering him with warmth

he would've loved it if you were more affectionate, but he finds himself liking the way you’re only ever soft for him

you’re a slab of ice to everyone else (even to him occasionally, if he doesn’t pester you enough to get you to open up)

anyways, he debates between texting, calling, or visiting you in person

your room is not too far away from his block – he might as well try his luck

(he has insanely good luck, so maybe you will be awake)

before that, he sends you a text just in case

it's not even a text, it's just a random sticker in his recents

your reply comes a few seconds later, and it's so characteristically you

one question mark. literally. just “?”

there he has it, you're still up and about. aventurine is used to your patterns by now, even if he can’t wrap his head around how you sleep so late and rise so early.

well, as long as you're well and doing your job properly, he's not going to question it

though he does wonder if you sleep at all

you’re his dutiful secretary during the day, sorting his documents, reminding him of his schedule and the like

you even follow him into meetings if he asks you to

sometimes he has to be ready by 5am

and guess what? you're awake and all dressed up by then, knocking at his door at 5am sharp

but you don't go to bed until 3am?

he only knows that because he had once tried to talk to you about a project idea he had at that time and you didn't pick up the phone

when you finally did pick up on his second call (in his defense, you usually weren’t asleep yet), you sounded groggy

and then you were like “mrrrrrh what is so important that you must wake me?”

he will never tell you how much he found your sleepy voice adorable

that was the earliest he's ever seen you sleep in all the days that he's known you

he really, really hopes you’ll renew your contract with him

you’re his absolute favorite out of all the secretaries he’s had

no one’s as soft with him as you are

no one’s ever tried to listen to him, or to understand him the way you do

out of everyone, you’re the only one who he feels some sort of genuine connection with

he’s seriously considering giving you a permanent position when your current contract ends

a familiar sequence of knocks sound at your door, and you know it's aventurine who's come to visit you. you've set up something like that with him because of the sheer frequency at which he bothers you outside of office hours, and you'd like to know which inconsiderate bastard it is who tries to visit your room past midnight.

affectionately, of course

it's not like he's causing you any inconvenience, so you don’t really care

you look at him, and wordlessly, you open your arms

you don’t need an explanation, or excuses, or an apology, or anything

his eyes are bloodshot, and you can see the cold sweat still on his forehead

he didn’t even bother tidying up before coming to see you

your heart aches, because it isn’t very often your boss comes to you in this state

he doesn’t even hesitate before he plops face first into your embrace

you’re lucky it’s the ungodly hours of no-one-is-awake, because you bringing your boss into your room is not a good look for you

especially when he’s holding onto you like you’re his secret lover or something

you don’t talk, and neither does he

you just hold him as he clings to you like you’re his lifeline

you lift him up easily; you're not about to stand in the doorway for the rest of the night

he likes how you don’t ask questions, how you comfort him without expecting anything in return

you don’t even know what exactly it is that plagues him, but you’re so tender with him all the same

you settle down in bed with him, though he can tell that you were working before he interrupted you

your monitors are still on, and you have a dozen of papers laid out side-by-side along with a pen that is now abandoned

he feels a little bad, but also he’s overwhelmed by how easily you do these things

like… setting your work aside because he’s looking for comfort

but you’re not even doing it consciously? you’re doing it so naturally like you’re doing it out of habit

he doesn’t think you intended to tuck him into your bed when you picked him up

he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t get you.

you could’ve held him in your lap while you worked and he wouldn’t have complained

to give him your undivided attention like this

are you trying to make him lower his guard?

he wants to draw the natural conclusion of your eventual betrayal once he lets you in, but he finds it so ridiculous that it’s impossible

you? who’s so gentle with him? who’s not even spoiling him consciously?

aventurine doesn’t feel safe with many people, if at all. the fact that he breathes so peacefully by your side is a surprise in and of itself. when your fingers brush against his hair, he shivers and holds onto your arm tighter.

“don’t go,” he says, as sleep slowly takes him again, “stay.”

you chuckle, a sound that he loves to hear, as you offer him your entire right side

and your scarf

you don’t know if he’d like it, but you flick the end on your right over to him anyway

he does like it. he snuggles into the fabric without hesitation

he vaguely remembers the fact that your scarf is your weapon, but it’s the least important thing on his mind right now

it’s soft. it smells like you. it’s comfortable.

you’re still trying to work, settling for reading through documents on your tablet

he cuddles up to you, shifting in your warmth until he finds himself a nice position to settle into

you let him sleep by your side, even if you’re unlikely to rest yourself

it’s okay, you can work through the night just fine with your tablet

you’ll be right next to him when he wakes

you glance at aventurine, who’s finally relaxed and getting the rest he deserves. he’s snoring softly all the while holding your arm in a death grip, and you feel yourself overcome with a surge of protectiveness.

you’ll watch over him. when he’s feeling better, you’ll see if he wants to talk about it. and whatever happens next… well, you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. you still have contracts and agreements to review, and there’s only so much time before more work ends up on your plate.

that said, aventurine’s day starts in three hours; maybe you could shuffle a few things around and let him sleep in?

#honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales #honkai star rail x reader

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madamechrissy · 16 days ago

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Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- oral sex (fem recieving) semi public sex, public play, a lap dance for the reader, basically them being cute and freaky lol

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap- 9.6k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 12 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Chapter 13

Satoru’s parents do not open the door, no it’s a snobbish looking butler, who looks at you with disdain, then looks at Gojo and rolls his eyes. Gojo snorts, pulling you against his side and shoving past him, walking into the insanely decadent manor. If you thought Gojo’s place was fancy, this was ridiculous, paintings worth more than your life everywhere, and sleek white marble everywhere.

Chandeliers hang above your head, you look up in awe, and Satoru is chuckling as he walks you through. “Pretentious as fuck, aren’t they?”

You giggle a bit, looking at your handsome fiancé , grinning at you with those pretty straight teeth of his, lowering his blue shades with a wink. “Indeed they are. You grew up here?”

“Nah, mostly boarding schools. Thank God.” You hold onto him then, realizing there was still so much more to learn about your soon to be husband, you open your mouth but soon his parents walk in. His snobby mom and snobby father look so prim and proper as they walk to you all, Gojo waves. “Hey, parental units.”

“Is that what you call us now?” His mom asks, and you shiver as she comes near you, assessing you up and down, as if searching for a flaw. You remember what she said, what she did, it makes you sick.

“Well could call you a fucking bitch if you want.”

“Satoru!” His dad hisses out.

Satoru rolls his eyes, then they narrow on his father, as Satoru lets you go, cracking his knuckles, and you tense, surely he wouldn’t-

“Since I don’t hit women, you get two for threatening my fiancé.” Satoru Gojo punches his dad then, right in the stomach, and his father gets furious, going to swing on his own son, for Satoru to duck, scowling and punching him in the face. Satoru’s mom is flipping her shit, screaming out.

“Satoru stop it!” She demands, as you watch on in shock and awe, mouth wide open as Satoru glares at his mom.

“Well I can’t hit you, mom, so he needed to take your hit. That second one is for slapping her pretty face.” He says, through gritted teeth, as the butler has ran up an ice pack for Satoru’s father.

“You’re such a little shit, you always have been.” His dad says then, only for Satoru to grin, shaking out a hand that already has blood on the knuckles, throwing his head back as he laughs.

“I guess I really am. So, let me properly introduce you to my fiancé.” He says your name, pulling you to him and kissing your hand, as Satoru’s dad sits in one of the fancy seats of the dining hall, where they clearly had prepared some sort of meal for you all. “Show em the ring, shnookums.”

“Oh… um, it’s beautiful.” You say softly, as his mom snatches your hand, looking at it, then at Satoru. “We’re getting married tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!? Satoru stop this, we already called the college, you have your job, and she has her position at the school-”

“We’re getting married regardless. Sorry, no invite for ya. Ooh, looks yummy!” Satoru starts popping the fancy macaroons and tarts in his mouth, moaning, as his mom assesses you. You hand her the envelope with the money then, she blinked in surprise. “Oh yeah, can’t buy her off. Plus that wasn’t shit for money, cheap asses.”

“Well we figured since she’s so poor-”

“I was poor. I am not anymore.” You correct, and his mom sighs, tossing back her silvery hair and gesturing for you to sit.

“We are… sorry that we…” His father can’t even finish his sentence, instead slamming back a whiskey. “Ow.”

Satoru snorts. “Can’t even finish your bullshit, huh father? Oooh yum.” Satoru now is stuffing cream puffs in his mouth, and yanks you onto his lap, causing his parents to scowl, affronted as you sit on a long leg. Satoru shoves a cream puff in your mouth, and you bite into the sweetness, moaning. “Fuck you’re hot.”

“Satoru, really?” His dad demands, and he just grins, licking whipped cream off his thumb, as you marvel at how fucking strong he is, how he gives just no fucks, your crazy Toru.

“Anyway, we’re getting married, and she will own part of the company with me, fuck I won’t do a pre nup even, because I know she’ll run you all into the ground even if she leaves me.” He chuckles deviously, sipping on some juice and pouring you a glass.

“I’ll never leave you, silly man.” You say softly, and Satoru exhales, kissing you right in front of his parents, earning his mother smacking the table.

“Enough of this! How much do you all need to not marry? A hundred thousand, two hundred thousand?”

You smile then, looking right at her. “No amount of money could make me not marry your son.”

“Thatta girl.” He pinches your hip with a charming smirk, and somehow even his parents’ cold manor is comfy, when Satoru has you. Satoru is your home .

You’re so lucky.

“A million?” His father asked, and you giggle now.

“No amount in the world. Despite you all being some of the worst parents I have ever seen, and that’s saying a lot from a foster kid, I absolutely adore the man he’s become, no thanks to you.”

“You insolent little bitch.” His father says, and Satoru grins psychotically, as he studies his dad and his swelling face.

“I’ll add two more hits for that.”

“You will not! Stop it.” Satoru’s mom scowls at her husband, and he grumbles, holding his glass out for another drink. “Let’s be rational. I fixed the situation, the one you both caused with recklessness!”

“The one you caused, putting money in pockets. You always have had a silver spoon in your mouth, but that’s going to change soon.” Satoru says, and his mom narrows her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Satoru grins “It means that when we marry, we’re going to own fifty one percent of this shit show, and guess what? You can’t buy me, you can’t bully me, and you can’t lie to me anymore. If you dare come near her again, I will make sure your reputation is ruined and I will have you fired from your own company. I have enough dirt on you both to do just that."

The silence in the room is deafening, and you look at Satoru curiously, sensing he has more up his sleeve, it’s as if he’s in full lawyer mode, and fuck if that isn’t always the most attractive thing. His hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other grabbing his cell phone, as he shoots you a little wink, and you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, to his parents dismay.

Satoru's mother's hand flutters to her chest, her eyes wide with shock, while his father's hand trembles as he holds onto his drink, trying to keep a firm grip. The air is thick with tension, and you can almost taste it on your tongue, you can sense their fear of their own son, who has become so strong away from them. What must it have been to have lived with them you shudder to think of it.

"What... what are you talking about?" His father finally stammers, playing dumb, but you know better. You've seen the way they've treated Satoru, heard the whispers, felt the coldness in their eyes every time they look at you, for them to suddenly put on some innocent air is hilarious.

Satoru's smile turns into a full-blown grin, a wicked glint in his eye. "Oh, come on, dad. You didn't think I'd just let you get away with this, did you? Either of you, oh and you’re both such whores and so easy to trail." He pulls out his phone, swipes through some messages, and holds it up for them to see.

“What on earth!” Satoru’s mom gasps as she looks at the image, and Satoru chuckles, showing you his father with what appears to be a… lady of the night?... your eyes bug out nearly, as his dad sputters.

“Well, that’s not me!”

“It sure looks like you!” His mom shoves at his father, and Satoru is wickedly smirking, wiggling his thin white brows, as you marvel silently.

"You see, I've been keeping tabs on your little... indiscretions. And I've got enough evidence to ruin your ‘Gojo’ reputation, oh and your marriage. But Mother , you’re also so slutty!"

“What, I never!” She glares, but Satoru’s shoulders are shaking with laughter as he pulls up another photo, and you flush as you see it’s his mother and a pool boy, before he shows them, and Satoru’s father stands angrily. “That’s not me!”

“That’s Antonio, the pool boy, and you , my god!” His dad shouts, and his mom stands then, slapping his dad in the same cheek Gojo punched.

“You’re cheating too!”

“You’re both horrible, but that pool boy seemed so nice when I spoke to him. He’s down to say all sorts of interesting things, as is your hooker, Father. So…”

“Satoru, please stop this! We’ll leave you alone.” His mom says then, sullenly, and you watch Lawyer Gojo just smash another case as he taps your thigh and you stand, holding his hand, which he kisses with a wink.

“We will… not bother her again.” His father grumbles, as you see them seething, wanting to kill each other, clearly.

“Yeah, keep Naoya the fuck away too, he’s a goddamn murderer, what is wrong with you two? Their money that good?”

His mother's face pales, and she opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out. You squeeze his hand, your heart racing. “Naoya is sentenced tomorrow, so likely he will be in prison for life.” His mom says, and Satoru looks down at you, as you smile up at him.

“Killed that case.” You whisper, and he purrs, kissing you, as his parents watch quietly.

"Now, I suggest we sit down and have a civilized conversation about this. Unless you'd rather I start making some calls and sharing your scandalous behavior? God what will the church say you two sinners!" He says, his dramatic, a hand to his chest, and you barely hold in your snort of laughter.

The room is a flurry of movement as they both scramble to sit back down, desperation etched on their faces. The power dynamics have shifted, and you can't help but feel like you're watching some damn snake charmer in action, like Satoru can control the vipers his parents are, and he’s pretty damn happy, you feel it radiating everywhere.

"Alright, let's talk," his mother says, her voice shaking slightly. "What do you want?"

Satoru leans back in his chair, pulling you back down to his lap, their lips terse as they watch you both, but they say nothing as you nuzzle him, so madly fucking in love with this man who gives no fucks. This man who will do anything for you, and you can’t believe just how lucky you are. Satoru Gojo has investigated his own parents to keep you safe, to be with you.

Satoru speaks now, as you brush back his silky hair, as you study this amazing man you’re to marry. "I want you to leave us alone. I want you to accept that we're getting married, and we're going to run this company together. And if you so much as breathe a word of disrespect towards my fiancé again, I'll make sure you never see the light of day in the corporate world, and are dirt fucking poor, ruined."

There is a quiet moment as they look at each other, then they sigh, literally at the same time. You watch Gojo preen like a peacock, so proud, and you’re proud of him too. "Fine," his father says, his voice gruff. "But we expect you to behave like the Gojos you are. No scandals, no drama."

"No worries, there. We're just going to live our lives, make some babies, and run our own law firm." He touches your tummy, and you can’t stop the heat from radiating from his touch, from his little wink as his blue eyes look at you under those shades.

A baby.

It sounds more and more like something you want the more he teases you, perhaps not yet, for you have to finish law school, but you see babies in your future, you see a few babies. Maybe a little boy with white hair like his dad, mischievous and smart, and a sweet little girl like you, a feisty smart cookie.

That idea makes you ache, do you have baby fever now!? Damn Satoru Gojo makes it hard not to. You try to focus. "Law firm?" His mother echoes, looking at you with renewed interest.

You nod, feeling a surge of courage. "Yeah, we're going to help people who can't help themselves. Make the world a better place, one case at a time, aren’t we Toru?" You ask him with a big grin, and he nods at you, grinning right back.

“Sure the fuck will. Gonna have little lawyer kids, family firm.”

“If they want to!” You say, and he kisses your neck, hands firm on your waist as he shamelessly nuzzles you.

“If they want to, we won’t push our kids to do what they don’t want.” He glare behind his shades is right back on his parents. Satoru's parents exchange a look that you can't quite read, but you suspect it's a mix of shock and disbelief. "So, we're clear, yeah? You'll stay out of our personal lives, and we'll run the company like the adults we are, fairly."

“We think we can do that. Could we at least plan a big wedding, you’re the heir of the Gojo family-”

“No, and you’re not invited. But, you can send her a generous gift.” Satoru says, as his mom’s face falls, you’d almost feel bad if you didn’t know how horrible of a woman she was, pretty as she was on the outside.

His father sighs. “Fine, we’ll send a gift.” He says.

"And one more thing.” Satoru says. "If you ever, and I mean ever, try to bribe, blackmail, or otherwise manipulate my fiance again, I will take you down."

“We got that, Jesus Satoru. You’re clearly infatuated.” His mom grumbles, sipping on a mimosa now, as you feel their defeat, and it makes you way too happy.

"We're going to be happy, you know. Me and your son.” You speak up finally, and they both look at you curiously. “I will be a good wife to him, and a good mother to any children we have, I will never abandon him, I will be by his side, whether I fit your ideal for a wife or not. Our happiness is not something you can control or take away."

Satoru's mom looks at you, her eyes narrowed, but you see a flicker of something in them, something that might just be a hint of respect. Or maybe it's fear of Satoru, but either way, you feel Satoru’s warmth under you, and see the emotion on his face, which he quickly controls. You know he can’t let others see him, especially his vulture parents.

“I think we have an understanding?” They nod. “Good deal, knew you two were smart… somewhat.”

They roll their eyes, but you smile.

“We have a lot to do, it’s a bachelor party tonight you know. Bachelor and bachelorette? I don’t know, we have a strip club to go to, oh and so much fucking to do, you know. Gonna make babies.” He chuckles as he stands, and picks you up bridal style, to his parents’ horrified looks. “Nice seeing you all again.”

Satoru walks you right out then, in his arms, through the extravagant halls of the Gojo mansion, and you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek over and over. Soon he has you in the back of the car, as his driver Ijichi smiles at you both, looking tired.

“How did it go, Mr. Gojo?” He asks, and Satoru grins, tapping his shoulder and tipping him hundreds. “Oh, that well?”

“So well. That’s to ignore her moans, she’s so loud.” Ijichi blushes as much as you do, as you’re dragged into the back of the limo, and he’s pulling you on his lap, grinning so pretty at you.

“Satoru Gojo, you’re amazing. Beyond amazing.”

"You were incredible," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin while he kisses it, firm lips pressing on delicate skin, and your hands shake as they cling to his shoulders. "So strong, so brave."

“Me brave, you! Fuck you did an investigation!” He chuckles, as his big hands grip your hips over your pretty blue dress he bought you this morning.

“I’m Satoru Gojo baby, what did you expect? Fuck them.”

“Do you ever think they’ll change?” You whisper, stroking his cheek, and he shakes his head.

“They’ve always been that way. I don’t have any hope they’ll change, my only hope is now they know they can’t touch you.” You blink back emotions, as tears threaten to spill, Satoru sighs as a couple escape. “God you’re pretty crying.”

“God you’re pretty all the time.” He smirks.

“That’s you baby girl.”

“We’re both pretty.” You murmur, leaning forward, as now you feel his excitement pressing between your thighs, and you heat up, tension pooling in your lower tummy, as you feel his breaths against your ear.

“I love you, baby girl. I need you, now, please.” He pleads so sexy, sliding your panties to the side and slipping two fingers in, making you moan, your head falling back for his hot kisses. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

“Need you, need you too.” You whisper back, and he loses it, hurriedly unsnapping his belt with a click, and you’re unzipping him, revealing his hard cock straining against his boxers, which you shove down, almost falling. He catches you with a nervous laugh, as he takes the sight of you in.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He says softly, then he’s sliding his length, stretching you out so much, so full, you gasp, wincing at that stretch, and he’s exhaling, his breath cool against your breasts, hands sliding to your hips. “Oh my god so tight.”

“You’re so thick… fuck…” You whimper, and he eats it up, with his hungry kisses, allowing you to adjust before he moves, and you’re riding Satoru Gojo’s cock in the back of a limo, soaking his length as you roll your hips, watching his pretty face contort in pleasure. His hands grab you everywhere, taking over your entire body, leaning back in his seat, watching you.

“God, you’re pretty.” He says softly, yanking your dress down, your breasts bouncing out for his hungry eyes. “Fuck.”

“Fuck!” You cry out a moment later, as he’s kissing around an areola, sucking it into his hot, wet mouth as you’re bouncing up and down, his hands on your ass, those swirling blue eyes looking up at you.

“Mmm, that’s it.” He whispers, little strings of saliva dripping from his lips as he sucks on your other nipple, hands gripping your ass as it shakes from your thrusts, as you hear your skin smacking his. “Ride me so fuckin good, pretty girl, don’t you?’

“Toru!” You’re a mess, thigh muscles struggling as you sit down on his cock so deep, his tip leaking and grinding on your cervix. “Can’t move.”

“You’re weak, little brat.” He teases, but you whine, nodding, as he starts moving you, lifting you up and down his length with ease, pistoning his hips so his cock is wrecking your pussy now. You feel him so deep, fucking in your stomach, deeper, as you feel yourself closer and closer. “That’s it, baby girl, cum for me.”

How can you not cum for Satoru Gojo, as his thick length is stretching you, as his eyes are locked on yours, as he’s urging you on. You fall apart, pussy throbbing around him, and he hisses at how good it feels, as you’re gushing wetness down his pants, all down to those fancy leather seats of the limo. You hear your squishing, how wet you are as he pounds up into you.

His brows are drawn together, his pale cheeks flushed with pink, his pouty lips parted as he gasps, and holds you up, leaning further back into the seat, as he pumps your pussy full, as you look down and see your slickness pooling around the white hair on his pelvis. You brace yourself on his hard chest, feeling his heart thudding against your palm, as you lean forward, and he captures your lips.

You drink in his moans, as he sips up your cries, and you’re holding yourself up as much as you can so he can fuck into you harder, your lips breaking apart, eyes rolling back as he’s kissing up your jaw. Satoru’s moaning in your ear is far too sexy, that husky deep sound as he slows, rolling his hips and pulling your hair.

“Miss Brat, your pussy is far too good, I’m gonna sue you for… misuse of… kegals.” You giggle breathless, as he slows more, and you ease down on him, trying to move, all sweaty despite the cool air in the limo, looking right into his bright eyes, lidded with desire.

“I only do kegals as - fuck! Toru…” He’s pushing you down, his hand sliding between you to roll a circle on your clit with his thumb, and you’re falling apart all over him again, crying out as you cum harder.

He smirks, biting his lower lip between those sharp teeth, raising a brow as he watches as your orgasm hits you. “Can’t even… mmm… finish an argument, huh Miss Brat? Under… pressure…”

“F-fuck! Okay… I use kegals for you and to make you cum fast- ah!” Satoru is scowling as he smacks your ass, and you’re giggling breathlessly, but it dies when he’s got you laid out on the long limo seat, laying on top of you, as you’re a trembling mess under him.

“Objection.” He huffs, and you can’t laugh, he’s shoved his cock to the hilt, dragging the tip on your g spot, overstimulating you as his heavy balls are smacking against your ass.

“Objection to what!? Fuck, Toru, there, there!”

“No. Sustained.” You laugh again, and earn a scowl. “You can laugh, huh, not fucking you hard enough, baby.”

“I-what- ah!” Now Satoru is fucking you so hard it’s brutal, mean cock bullying into your entrance over and over, as his long fingers wrap your throat, squeezing and making everything fuzzy. “You’re rusty, Professor, sustained- ah- doesn’t… fuck, doesn’t apply!”

“Fucking brat, swear to-” He’s slamming harder, raising your thigh up to where your feet are on his shoulder, then you can’t take it, you’re a writhing mess, as he’s whining out softly, kissing up your ankles, even the tops of your feet as he pounds you, such a contradiction.

Your pussy is struggling to accommodate him, as he’s slamming that cervix at a bruising pace, unrelenting. You’re losing oxygen as he squeezes your throat tighter, as he takes over everything you are, igniting that insane heat in your core that is about to spill over. Your tits bounce with every thrust, and he moans as he watches.

“Play with em, law student. Now.” He orders gruffly, releasing your throat and bracing himself on the seat, and you eagerly oblige, grabbing them and squeezing, earning his moan, and his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re so sexy, oh my god, yes baby, pinch those nipples.”

You cry out as he’s rolling his hips inside you, as you’re a slick mess, your cunt sucking his thick length in over and over, head falling back into the seat as you pinch your nipples for him. Satoru’s leaning lower now, kissing your throat, biting it so hard it hurts, but fuck it feels good, you take your hands off your breasts to cling to his muscled back over his suit jacket, pressing into the expensive material.

“Toru, Toru, baby!” You whine out, as he licks a trail up your throat, cupping your face with one hand now, tilting your chin up.

“Look at me, pretty.” You push yourself to focus, as he’s gone blurry with all your pleasure, and he exhales, kissing you deeply, you taste his sweetness, his essence, maddening as his cock finally slows. “I love you.”

“I love you so much Toru.” You whisper back, kissing him desperately as his weight is on you, and he’s grabbing your hips, your dress hopelessly scrunched up around your torso. “Cum in me, please, please.”

“Need me to fill you so bad, slutty brat?” He asks, and you just nod, brow furrowing as he’s caressing your face so lovingly, breath tickling your lips. “Beg for it, pretty girl. Let me know how bad you need it.”

“Oh please, Toru. Please, cum in me. Put your babies in me.” You say hoarsely, eyes locking on his, and you watch him fall apart, and feel his thrusts go hard, so hard he’s fucking you deep into those seats, jerking your entire body.

“Gonna fill you so full, so full, put so many kids in you. You want em, don’t you pretty girl?” You nod at his soft, pleading words, then Satoru makes that little sound you love so much, that whine from the back of his throat, as he pumps you full, and he cums so much, more than usual. You’re shaking as you take it, as he’s crying out, gripping you and kissing you over and over.

You’re both gasping for breath as he eases finally, studying your face and brushing your hair back gently, thumb stroking your cheek. “Toru, I love you. I can’t wait to marry you.” You whisper, tears falling from the overwhelming sensations of cumming, of his love, of his touch, of him .

Satoru’s own eyes go glassy, as he gulps, kissing you softly. “And I love you, Miss Brat. I can’t wait to marry you.”

You both struggle to come to as you kiss over and over, as he’s gently adjusting your dress, as he’s stroking your body, as you cling to him, sitting up now, and he’s rubbing your back. You fall into him, loving him so deeply it’s physically painful, not imagining a life before Satoru Gojo, before your home. He notices you sobbing and peers back, concerned.

“Baby girl, was that too much?”

“No, it was perfect. Oh Toru I just…”

“What is it Shnookums?” You giggle through your tears, making him smile as he holds you, as you touch his face, as he brushes your tears.

“I fall deeper every day. It’s so hard to handle, my heart just aches, as I love you more and more.” He kisses you fervently, then, pulling you so close, like you two couldn’t get close enough, and he has you back in his lap, but sitting to the side, cradling you, looking at you deeply.

“Making me a fucking baby.” He grumbles, making you laugh finally through your tears. “I fall deeper every moment, even when I watch you sleep, like a little snoring angel.”

“Hey!”

You’re both laughing then, and you sigh. “I couldn’t be happier. Fuck I never imagined this.”

“Neither did I. Y’know we got anything together. Yeah?” You grin, nodding.

“Yeah we do. Toru, are we really going to a strip club?”

“Sure are, I wanna see you get a lap dance. Plus dragging serious ass Nanami will be so fucking awkward. Oh, that Yuta kid too. It’s gonna be good.” Satoru’s grinning deviously, and you roll your eyes at him. “C’mon, you’ll love it. I won’t really look at any of them, I have you.”

“Oh I don’t care if you watch a girl dance, silly. But… it does sound kind of fun, I’ve never been. I can’t believe we’ll be married tomorrow!?”

“I know, it’s crazy. We could wait, if you’re scared, chicken.”

“Am not, jerk!” You stick your tongue out and you both laugh as you head home to get ready, you’re not even sure what to expect.

The neon lights of the strip club are glowing different colors, casting a sultry glow over the elaborate decorations that adorned the walls. This was clearly some fancy club, the servers were topless wearing little plaid mini skirts, and the bars had gorgeous bartenders, smiling and ready to get you all whatever you want.

“Gojo! You’re getting married!” The owner comes up to Gojo, shaking his hand enthusiastically, then smiles down at you, you instantly recognize him.

“Sukuna!?” He laughs, coming to give you a kiss on the hand and winking at you. “No wonder we drove so far for this club!”

“It’s the best, I’ll have you know. Fuck I can’t believe you’re getting married, you better not have a divorce, I’ll snatch her up.” He says with his grin on his tanned, handsome face, and Satoru scoffs, rolling his eyes and putting an arm around you.

“Not happening, you know it. She gets fucked too good.” You’re blushing under the lights as Sukuna’s dark brows raise.

“Oh, a challenge?”

“Not a challenge, Toru, don't just say that!” You hiss, but he’s smirking. “Did his hoe ass frequent this place?”

“How dare you assume that!” Satoru scowls, and Sukuna chuckles.

“Nah, not really, but he’d come every now and then to just throw money on the stage, the girls loved him. Don’t think he ever got a dance. Ya gonna get one on your last night?”

“Nah.”

“You can!” You say, and Sukuna sighs.

“She’s perfect, I’m really fucking jealous.”

“Of course she is. But no, I wanna get her a good dance later.” He whispers, as if you can’t hear, and Sukuna hums, rubbing his chin.

“That sounds hot. I can do that, but can I watch.”

“Fuck no.”

“Tch, you’re no fun Gojo.” He glares at him, as Gojo glares back, and you wonder if these two idiots will fight again, but Suguru and Nanami are there, along with Maki and an embarrassed Yuta, who hands you a drink.

“Thank you!” You smile at him, leaning close. “Are you nervous?”

“Never been to one!” He says, his tired eyes looking even more tired, you wonder if Maki’s even letting him sleep, she’s all horned up lately she says. You giggle at the thoughts, earning Yuta’s pout.

“Is she letting you sleep?”

“No, she’s a fiend. Fuck don’t tell her that!”

“Tell me what?” Makin grins as she steps close, leaning forward, that emerald hair falling over her bare shoulder. Yuta blushes, and you can’t stop your smile.

“Yuta was saying he wants to fuck you more , Maki. Like he needs more and more-”

“I’m dying!” He screams out, and you’re laughing as Maki attacks him with her kisses again. Nanami and Suguru step up to the dancers, Nanami looks so awkward it’s adorable, where Suguru seems perfectly comfortable you notice.

Satoru’s arms wrap around you now, and you peek up at him. “So baby girl, you’re getting a lap dance lesson.”

“Am I now?”

“Mmhmm, the only dance I want is from you.” You melt at him then, peering up at his cerulean depths, twinkling with mischief, as you cup his face, thumb running across his stubborn chin. He nuzzles your hand so sweetly.

“You’re perfect.”

“I know.”

“Hey!” He’s chuckling, and you love feeling his chest shake as he does, god you love everything about him. You keep falling deeper into the abyss that is your white haired, lawyer fiance. “Let’s have fun with them first!”

“Oh fine, brat. I guess we should. But…” He leans forward, whispering into the shell of your ear, as his hands grab your ass, pulling you against his hard, lithe body, and you’re reminded of that night at the club, where you met. “I wanna fucking lick you in a bathroom again.”

“You’re so pervy, no!” He’s chuckling, and you heat up at the thought, he can tell when your lashes lower, when you bite your lip.

“You’re so slutty for me, you want to.”

“Uh-uh!”

“Uh-huh. C’mon, let’s go party baby girl, last night before you’re officially my wifey.”

“I can’t wait to be Mrs. Gojo.”

“Mrs. Gojo, fuck that’s hot.” He’s kissing you right there, as strippers, clients, servers all walk by, many awwing and oohing at you two lovers. “C’mon, let's corrupt the rest of that innocent nature.”

Soon you are up towards the stage, where beautiful dancers are swirling around poles, doing splits, so flexible you’re enamored, all in glittery outfits covering basically nothing. Satoru is shoving Nanami up and beckoning the women over to him, making the tall, buff professor Nanami a blushing mess. Maki is with you as you all tip the dancers and Yuta is looking at anything else.

“Yuta come tip them, you chicken?” Maki teases, sticking her tongue out, and he is groaning as he slinks up.

“Don’t be mean, Maki. Yuta only wants to look at you.” You say with a wink, and then Maki looks at him, for Yuta to nod, brushing his black hair back.

“Aww fuck, that’s cute. C’mere.” She’s smacking kisses on him again, and you imagine Yuta isn’t going to get that sleep, as Geto saunters up to you, scooching a seat right next to you.

“Last night of freedom, you wanna spend it with me, love?” Geto teases, and you snort in laughter, shaking your head and smacking at him playfully.

“Oh you’re so full of it!” You snort, sipping your cosmopolitan as you all watch one of the performers. “Holy fuck, how do they bend that way?”

“I’d throw my back out.” You both laugh again, and you put a hand on Geto’s thigh then, making him wiggle his brows. “Are you reconsidering the offer?”

“Shut it! I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you all, especially coming tomorrow for us.” He sighs, slinging an arm around your shoulders and popping a kiss on your cheek.

“Of course, Satoru is my family, now you will be.” You get emotional in the middle of a damn strip club, smiling tremulously at him then, and he taps your nose playfully, smiling. “Don’t you cry at your bachelorette party.”

“It’s my party, I’ll cry if I want to.”

“Oooh, you have the best song lyrics, Shnookums.” Satoru says then, pulling his seat next to you and slinging an arm around you, crossing his ankle over his knee. You lean over and kiss him, giggling.

“I love the eighties. Remember that song that played out in the first dance?” He grins.

“Of course I do. Take Me Home Tonight.” You melt then, giggling, as Suguru watches you two with a smile.

“You all are sickeningly cute.” He says then, and Satoru is brushing your hair back gently, as you look up at him with glittery eyes.

“You really remembered?” You whisper, making Satoru sigh, cupping your face now, and it’s like there’s nothing else in that room, like that night, it overwhelms you especially when his firm lips press on yours.

“Of course I remember, Miss Brat. It was Eighties hour or some shit, but how wouldn’t I remember that song? Miss ‘I can’t dance’! Whatever. Excuse for me to ‘teach you’.”

“Was not!”

“Mmhmm, sure. Sugu, are you trying to give her a wild night or what?” You gasp then, scowling at Satoru’s grin, then looking at Suguru who is tipping a stripper, smirking back at you both.

“Sure I’m down. We're just gonna share again?” Your mouth is dropped open again, eyes darting back and forth.

“Already has her mouth open, what a good girl.” Satoru says, hand on your thigh, sliding up, you smack at him then.

“You stop fucking with me, both of you! You would never share.” You’re glaring at Satoru, and he snorts then, leaning far too close.

“No, I wouldn’t, but you thought about it, slutty brat.” He whispers, earning your shove at his hard chest.

“You’re so full of shit, Toru. You two are the worst! Maybe you both should get married instead.” You stand, crossing your arms, for them to both drag you back down to your seat, and you huff.

“I love to tease you, it’s too fun. Suguru, you notice her thighs shifting?” You about smack your fiancé, but Suguru stands then, laughing as he holds up an empty drink.

“You do have those legs, how do I not notice?” Suguru teases, chocolate eyes squinting and crinkling at the corners as he laughs.

“You stop encouraging him!”

“I’ll go get a drink, you can use me as bedroom talk, I don’t mind.” You throw an empty cup at his back then, only for him to laugh, bending down and picking it up, bonking Satoru in the head, who’s laughing so hard he has tears in his pretty blue eyes.

“Fuck you both!” Suguru’s shoulders shake as he goes up to the bar, flirting with the pretty bartender, whispering something in her ear. “He’s a hoe.”

“He really is.”

“So are you!”

“Reformed, brat. Remember? All reformed, now you really gonna say you wouldn’t do it?” He teases, brushing your hair back and whispering in your ear, as the alcohol warms your tummy and the club music is pounding like your pulse thrumming under your skin, as you realize how turned on you are in the atmosphere. “Can feel that heat from here.”

“From the… environment… that’s my alibi.” You whisper, and he chuckles, nipping your earlobe with his teeth, slipping that hand higher under your little skirt, thumb so close to where you’re wet it’s ridiculous. “Satoru…”

“Fuck.” He whispers then, as his thumb feels the damp spot forming in your panties. “You are so slutty, Miss Brat, want two professors?”

“Maybe… maybe kiss you both.” You tease, and he laughs softly, biting your neck as you nervously close your thighs.

“Just kiss, nothing else huh?” You giggle breathlessly, as you feel your body overheating everywhere, leaning close and kissing him, his free hand turning you so he can rub your folds over your panties unnoticed. You struggle to hold in your cry, as he watches you intently. “Not us both drinking you, huh Niagara?”

“Fuck off, Satoru!” You hiss quietly, but you whimper as the spot grows, until you’re sticky and soaked.

“Mmm, I’m using this as evidence for my case.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head and leaning back, hips bucking up involuntarily, making him grin like mad.

“What case, Professor?”

“The case you wanna fuck all the professors.”

“Only the white haired one, thank you.” You kiss him softly, arms wrapping around his neck, as his fingers press that material between your lips, pulling at it and pressing on your clit. It twitches in response, as you try to keep your sounds in, as he’s so shamelessly touching you in secret at the club.

“The white haired one? The prettiest one?” He whispers.

“The prettiest one there ever was. The prettiest Princess Satoru.” You tease with a grin, but it’s cut off when he slips under the side of your panties and finds you naked, moaning softly, his lips just barely against yours, hovering. “Ya like that, being my Princess Toru?”

“You’re the Princess, Brat, I’m just a little frog.”

“Handsome prince frog.” He slips his finger away, sucking on it then and shutting his eyes, and you damn near jump him in a room filled with strippers, patrons, people all in various stages of undress, and Satoru’s eyes are on you .

“Fuck you taste so good, always. How am I gonna make it through a dance I’m hard as fuck.”

He winces, adjusting himself into his waistband, and you’re blushing as you watch your effects on him, how his thick length shows even in his dark blue jeans. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck. Brat.”

“Me, you did it!”

“Fuck I want you now, I can’t handle it, bet she’s so wet I could drink her.” You whine out loud, earning his lidded gaze, as he’s got his hand entangled in your hair, kissing you over and over, tongue swirling in your mouth. “Let’s do this dance now before I can’t stand not fucking you. I’ll be right back.”

You kiss him over and over, and then peer to see Maki dragging Yuta into a room for a dance, you give her a thumbs up and she blows you a kiss, then you see that Suguru is… well, he’s making out with that bartender in the corner. You roll your eyes, realizing he’d have to take over Satoru’s sluttiness now, and then he shoots you a wink, earning your laugh.

You walk up to Nanami, who is looking a little less uncomfortable, but is not approaching the stage, instead studying his glass. You sit next to him and he smiles softly at you. “Mr. Nanami, you should get a dance. I’m getting one.”

“Are you now?” He asks, sipping his whiskey as he crosses his legs, clad in a fancy three piece suit. “This isn’t my atmosphere. I’m a little more conservative I suppose.”

“Mr. Nanami, you give freak energy.” He sputters and you’re shaking with laughter. “It’s a good thing!”

“Oh dear God. I am not sure what that means.” You sigh, patting his shoulder, stiff from him being so tense.

“I see all the ladies checking you out, you know.”

“Yes well…”

Satoru comes up with two women, and he gestures to Nanami, who’s blushing on his strong cheekbones. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You’re getting a dance, now be a gentleman and let the lady work.” Satoru says with a wink, as a pretty blond drags Nanami away, who finishes his drink quickly, letting her yank him by his cheetah tie.

“Good call, Satoru.” You say, and he grins at you, as he introduces you to the pretty brunette in front of you, dressed in a G string and a tiny little silver bikini top, and nothing else, making you a little nervous of where to look. “Hello!”

“Hello beautiful, she is so pretty, you’re right!” She says to Satoru, and he grins, his hand on your waist.

“Oh you’re so sweet.” You say shyly, as the lady takes your hand gently in hers. “Are we…”

“You’re getting a dance, bachelorette. And of course your fiancé is going to watch. Are you comfortable with me touching you?” She asks then, as you’re now led into a huge VIP room, with burgundy and red plush seats, it’s super dark in there aside from red LEDS lighting up from the ceiling.

“Um, touching me?” You look at her in confusion, and then at Gojo, who’s helping you sit on the plush seat, sitting right next to you.

“With girls I tend to be a little touchy if they like. But only if you’re okay with it.” She says softly, and she makes you feel comfortable, clearly a professional, and you look to Gojo again.

“It’s fine with me, baby girl, it’s up to you.” He says, as she now spreads your thighs, slipping your skirt up, and you gasp at just that, Satoru’s eyes are hungry as he watches you. “I just want to watch you.”

“Just watch huh?” You say, but he nods.

“I love seeing a devoted fiancé, it’s so rare.” She says, and you melt as you realize that really is what Satoru is. He’s had eyes for you all night, like you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, in a sea of naked women, he’s all about you. It makes you melt more and more for him.

“He is, but so am I.” You say then, holding his hand, and he brings it to his lips, brushing a kiss on your knuckles and winking.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m gonna enjoy a girl on you. I’m still a hoe.” You snort, and the dancer laughs, as she bends low now, kissing your thighs, making you tense, as you’re clinging to the arms of the chair, and she bends down, her eyes looking at you, hands sliding up and down your thighs. “Jesus I won’t make it.”

“It’s your idea!” He sighs, swiping a hand on his face as he turns, staring intently at you as the dancer turns, bending over and rocking her hips between your thighs, taking your hands and putting them on her hips. “Can I do that!?”

She laughs softly. “Yes, you can. Relax, sweetie, it’ll be fun. Maybe you can learn some moves for your fiancé?” You bite your lip nervously, looking back at Satoru as your hands grip her firm waist, toned from dancing, and then she’s turned again, straddling you, her long legs on either side of you. “My prettiest client ever.”

“Oh stop!” You’re a mess, blushing everywhere if that’s possible, as the music from the club thrums quietly in the room, and you feel the heat and the energy taking over, her body sliding against yours, as Satoru is sipping his drink and his eyes are sliding down your body. “You’re pretty too.”

“Thank you, you’re so sweet. Most girls are not so nice.” You frown then a bit, and she shakes her head. Gojo smirks a bit, knowing you’re so fucking sweet you feel bad anyone was mean to her. Fuck he loves you. “Ah-ah you have fun! Here.” She leans forward now.

She’s running her hands down the sides of your breasts, before taking down your straps, revealing your breasts, and you watch them bounce out, as Gojo audibly groans. “I’m gonna die. I really am gonna die.” He grumbles, and you both laugh.

But he really feels like he can’t take it, his cock is straining in his boxers, he was already so hard just feeling your heat, and now he’s looking at your beautiful body, the girl above you is of course pretty but fuck you’re everything, your perfect tits at attention, begging for his mouth. You’re a cute little nervous mess, but clearly you’re enjoying, your eyes are lit up, you’re biting your lower lip.

The dancer licks one of your nipples, and you squeak, and Gojo would chuckle at how cute it was, but he wants to rail your perfect pussy right now. He’s clinging to his chair, shifting to try to adjust himself but it’s too hard, so hard it’s painful. She licks your other nipple and your eyes flutter shut, a little hum of pleasure from the back of your throat, your hands brushing her hair back softly.

“Fuck you’re so hot.” He whispers, earning your eyes opening, and looking at him, they’re so dilated they’re almost black, your lips glossy as you wet them.

“You are, such a pretty body.” She says to you, and you’re blushing even harder, as she slides back to her knees, her long thick platform heels clicking on the floor, and he watches her lick you over your panties. You let out what sounds like a squeak, and the stripper licks her lips and grins. “And yummy.”

“Oh my god.” Your head falls back, your hair cascading like a waterfall along the back of the chair, your hands over your face.

That’s it, he can’t stand it. Satoru can’t take it, seeing a girl fucking lick you, he’s about to cum in his pants like a teenager. “Holy shit.” He grumbles, and the stripper looks at him then, and gestures for him to come over to you, putting him on his knees with a satisfied look.

“I’ll let you two continue, yeah?” Satoru digs in his pants for a wad of hundreds, handing them to her. “Oh, you already paid-”

“Extra, you’re amazing.” He gruffly says, as he stares up at you, and the dancer brushes your cheek, giving it a kiss, watching you with a smile.

“It was my pleasure. You two have fun, love birds, twenty minutes left in here you know.” She saunters out, the door shutting with a click, and he watches your bare breasts heave up and down as you whine softly, and he yanks you by your hips, leaning up as you lean down. Your lips capture his, and he tastes your sweetness mixed with your drinks.

“Mmnh, Toru I think I like strip clubs?” You whisper, and he laughs, smiling so big his cheeks hurt, as he slides up under your skirt, pulling your soaked panties down your shaky thighs.

“I had a feeling you’d enjoy that. You’re so sexy, god.” He’s got your glistening pussy in his face, and you’re arching your back, hips bucking up as his breath hits your clit, as he parts your lips and his mouth salivates at how fucking gorgeous you are. He slides a thumb, feeling your dripping wetness, sticking to his fingers, making you cry out now louder.

“Need you, Toru, please.” You breathe out the words, and he licks his lips as he pulls your hips up, pressing your pussy in his face, inhaling you as he buries himself in your soppy entrance with his tongue, nose bumping your clit as you gush down his mouth. “Toru, fuck, fuck… fuck!”

“Mmm, shh, Miss Brat.” He whispers, watching your tiny clit twitch as he spreads you so wide, a thigh over his shoulder, your calf dangling across his back, his cock so hard he starts stroking himself for just some relief. “Want to cum on my face?”

“Please, please Toru.” You’re begging, little tears in those pretty eyes that glimmer under the red lights. You’re pulling at his hair so hard as you grind your pussy against him, and he’s close to cumming from it, from how hard you pull, from how good you taste, from watching your brows scrunch together in pleasure. “There, there, oh my god please .”

You’re dripping down his tongue, and he’s sipping you up, hands both now gripping the plush of your thighs, as he devours you, as you’re cumming all over him, and he moans as he drinks it up. You’re weak now, but he’s not done, he lifts the hood of your clit now, swirling the tip of his tongue on that clit, and now you’re trying to pull him off you.

You’re so cute, his wife.

His Wife.

You’re like a dream, as he drinks you in a club just like the first night you met, and he is dying to fuck into you, but he wants to make you cum over and over with his mouth, make you a mess, just like that night.

“Satoru, too much, fuck!” You’re trembling as you’re yanking at his silky white hair, but Satoru is unrelenting as he’s devouring you with that tongue, and now he’s sliding a finger in your entrance, looking up at you, face glistening with how much you’ve cum. You gasp as he hits your spot, as he works you until you feel so much pressure you can’t take it.

“Cum again for me, yeah? You’re so pretty when you do.” Satoru’s husky voice along with him licking your clit again, and looking at you with those blue eyes ruins you, and your orgasm hits again, shoving a hand against your mouth as you scream into it, blacking out in the red room as it’s so good. “Mmm, good girl.”

You’re listless from your back to back orgasms, nearly fainting when he relents, kissing your thighs and nipping them, you weakly reach down to kiss him. “Toru, too much… can’t move.”

“I got you baby girl.” He picks you up then, with ease in his arms, as he smiles down at your face. “You tapping out?”

“No, I wanna make you cum.” You whisper weakly, kissing him back, hands entwining behind his neck, brushing against his undercut. “Let me suck you.”

“Wanna suck me off, don’t you wanna fuck?” He presses you against the wall now, holding your thighs in his hands, and he’s kissing down your neck, as your breasts press against his hard chest.

“Both yes, please.”

“You’re a mess baby.”

“Your fault, fuck.” He’s moaning then, as he rubs his tip along your lips, between them, bumping you overstimulated clit and making your head slam into the wall as you cum again from that. “Too much, fuck, fuck…”

“She’s so sensitive hmm?”

“Put it in me, please.” You look up at him pleadingly, and Satoru groans, shoving his cock in to the hilt, and you both moan together as he fills you, as he’s resting his forehead against yours, hands now gripping your ass. “S’big, Toru, s’good.”

“You’re so tight, made for me, aren’t you baby?” You nod eagerly, as he begins slowly moving, and you’re both kissing messy, saliva dripping from your tongues, as he fills you so goddamn good. But it’s beyond the pleasure, it’s so much more, like he’s constantly filling that missing piece. “You’re perfect, perfect.”

“I love you so much, so much.” You’re both whispering your love, as he’s fucking you on a strip club wall, but it’s as if it couldn’t be more romantic, as you both devour each other, him bending low to kiss your breasts, sucking your nipples, rolling his hips. You’re clenching around him, thighs on his slender hips, rocking your own hips against him for more.

Satoru begins fucking harder now, and your tits are shaking with each thrust, his blue eyes drink you in, as one hand leaves your hip to cup your face, stroking the apple of your cheek. You’re crying softly, at how beautiful it is, how good it feels, while Satoru kisses your tears away, breathing softly into your lips.

“I love you, pretty girl.” He says, and you’re a mess, truly, clinging to him as you drink in his cries, as you feel yourself higher and higher. “So pretty, so so pretty. Aren’t you?”

“Th-thank you, you… so handsome I… cumming!”

“Cum then, baby, lemme feel you. Ah!” He’s tense when you convulse, dripping down the length of his cock, wetter and wetter as you pulse around him, and Satoru finds his release then with you, moaning his pleasure into your lips as he pumps you full, with short bursts of so much cum. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Toru… oh my god… yes, yes, push it in me.” You beg, earning his groan as he’s kissing your lips so possessively, and you both cling to each other.

“You took it all, you're such a good girl, aren’t you?” You nod between kisses, and finally he eases you down carefully, your head falls back as you look up at him, and he’s got you barred against the wall.

“That was insane. Fiancé.” You tease with a giggle, and he smirks so goddamn charming, tilting your chin up, brushing little kisses on your nose.

“You were so hot like that. I’ll have that in my brain, a stripper licking you, I almost had a coronary.”

You’re tucking your head against his chest, inhaling his cologne then. “It was so fun, my god I can’t believe we’re doing this can you?”

“I wanted to marry you when I first saw you, but that would have sounded crazy. But I knew then you were special, something about your energy.”

“Oh, Satoru, I knew something was special too.” You’re hugging him so tightly, Satoru is stroking your hair, as the song changes. You both laugh then, grinning at each other as you pull away, taking several breaths, and he’s helping you get back dressed quickly. “Is that…”

“It sure fucking is. C’mon brat, let’s dance.” You eagerly follow him out, where your friends are gathered together taking shots, they wave you over but Satoru has you in the center of the club now in his arms. He turns you to where your back is against his hard body, his hands on your hips.

“I’m not so good at dancing, could you show me?” You ask him teasingly, and he’s bending down, fingers pressing into your hips.

“I can show you, just loosen up. There, now move your hips.” You wriggle your hips to the silly eighties song you all had first danced too, you look behind and up at him, cupping his face as he kisses on your neck. “Look, you’re a natural.”

“I had a good teacher. Or, professor.” You’re both kissing then, as he picks you up, and your legs dangle off the floor, and Satoru is spinning you. You’re at a strip club but you might as well be at a ball, in some fancy mansion, dancing a waltz, the way he holds you, the way he makes you feel.

He eases you down now, hands on your waist as he hums the tune, now bopping his head and being goofy, your friends are all enamored watching you both, even the dancers have paused, in fact everyone is looking at you. As you both sing the song quite terribly, as he’s spinning you around in little pirouettes, dipping you over his arm like you’re in a tango.

You’re breathless and giddy as you now rock gently with him, brushing his hair back, seeing a beautiful future between you both just over the horizon. Seeing everything in his beautiful blue eyes, that swirl and dance and glitter brighter than anything there was, the way his grin is so bright it illuminates his pretty face. You see everything with him.

“I can’t wait, Toru.” You say with a grin marveling his own. He exhales, leaning down and holding you close, big body taking your little one over, making you feel so safe and so secure.

“I can’t wait, either, to make you my wife.”

Taglist: @jjknanamin @chiyokoemilia @marie-is-in-the-dark @seeing-stars-alt @maskedpacific @aldebrana @toffeebrat @antisocialinlw @trishiepo0 @jkslaugh97 @makingtimemine

Chapter 14

#gojo x reader #jjk smut #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen #lawyer gojo #take me home tonight #gojo fluff #gojo fic #jjk x reader smut #jjk fluff #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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eddiernunson · 3 months ago

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Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

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Edit: this tagging system sucks. I just fixed it! Sorry if you weren’t tagged originally!

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), multi chapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, (major) use of marijuana, perv!Eddie, general horniness

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin colour or body shape/type

Word Count: 4.1k

Chapter 3

The heat is unbearable, the kind that provides the motivation not to do anything but lie in bed all day spread out so one could confuse them as a starfish. It’s hot enough the house wide AC feels too weak for a job this tough and needs to call in backup. The fan that stands alone rotating as it blows cold air through your room is nowhere near enough backup.

Your skin feels sticky, your hair as far away as possible from your sweaty skin as you melt in the sweltering heat. One more than one occasion you’ve scooped under your tits to wipe at the sweat that has pooled there, coming up with miraculously slick hands.

Fuck it’s too hot for clothes.

The summer sun has been working late night shifts as of late, staying out until 8 or 9. As much as you revel in the longer daylight hours, today you’ve decided you hate the sun. You check the time, hoping it’s 3 or 4 in the afternoon already, having decided to forego your phone due to its inefficiency from distracting you from the heat and therefore lost track of time.

It’s only 12:30.

You swear softly, in a quick decision you can’t stay still anymore and need to go in your stash to fucking relax. You put on a light tank top and short jean shorts, lifting your hair off your sticky neck into a bun as you pocket your phone, some joints and some cash for an ice cream cone.

Smoke a joint on the way, indulge on some delicious ice cream then stumble back home for what will probably be quality time with your vibrator. Seems like a decent plan.

When you get downstairs Eddie is lounging on the couch with one leg over the armrest, sunken in the corner as he watches the tv with a glazed look in his eyes in a muscle t-shirt and his long locks in a bun. He seems to share the same sentiment that it is too damn hot. His eyes shift to you as you put on your flip flops, sitting up with loud curiosity on his face.

“I’m going to go for a walk and get some ice cream, it’s too fucking hot,” you tell him, one hand on the scorching door handle. You hiss, shaking it in a jerk move as you glance down at it. “Ow.”

”Yeah, I learned my lesson the hard way,” he observes, stretching as he stands up, his arms over his head as the lift of his shirt reveals a tuft of dark hair.

You shake yourself out of it, opening the door quickly underneath your shirt before the handle has a chance to burn your skin again and step out into the blistering sun, putting the sunglasses over your eyes as you reach the end of the driveway. Behind you a set of running footsteps startle you, the slapping of sandals on pavement having you turn to face a set of wild curly hair falling out of its ponytail as its owner catches up to you.

He’s smiling ear to ear, bearing those dazzling dimples when he sees your perplexed face. “A walk for some ice cream sounds really nice, when I thought about it.” You blink up at him, processing his words and distracted by the sheen layer of sweat on his toned arms. It’s a dangerous automatic shut down on your brain.

Eddie falters, stepping back as you continue staring up at him, jaw slack and speechless. “Unless, you’d prefer to be alone—“

You finally snap out of it, almost swinging to grab his hand out of pure reflex. “No, um, it’s just a bit of a walk and I was gonna take my time and uh…smoke for a bit.” God, that sounded terrible.

His eyes light up, his wild grin back on his face in a flash. “A joint and ice cream? Now that’s a hot day.” He starts putting his hair back into the ponytail, a god damn scrunchie, starting ahead as you stand dumbly on the driveway. ”Now you wouldn’t mind turning this into a blunt rotation would you?”

Are you kidding me? Like are you actually fucking kidding me?

“I only got two joints,” you hold them out from the stash in your bra apologetically, as you pretend to hesitate in accepting his offer.

He yoinks one out of your hand, lighting it in a flash. “Joint’s a joint,” he states, warbled from the blunt in his half open mouth. He closes his eyes as he takes a big inhale, bliss taking over his face as it hits his lungs. “Oh that’s some good shit.” He passes it to you, clearing his throat. “Who’s the dealer these days, because that did not come from a dispensary.”

“How—“ you stop at his raised brow, grinning around the joint as you take your first inhale. God, that hits the spot. “Right. It’s some kid named Mickey. Mickey…Carver, I think.”

Eddie's fingers brush against yours as he takes it back, looking pensive as he breathes it in. “So you’re telling me that Jason Carver's son is the new dealer?” He breathes it out, grinning maniacally. “Fuck, that’s poetic.”

You’re about three doors down already, but you’re already feeling it. Usually you take much more time between inhales, not wanting to be stoned in the convenience store. It’s at least another three blocks away. “Right…I forgot his dad is the mayor. I think he’s like the black sheep of his family.”

“Oh, sweet justice,” he mutters, yet you find yourself having no interest in the context. “Would your dad happen to know about this little past time of yours?”

You take another inhale of the joint, absorbing the ache in your lungs for a moment longer than you usually do. “I don’t know if he does.” You shrug, stumbling past one of the sidewalk cracks. “I’m not all that covert about it.”

“How much he smoked in college, I don’t think he’d care,” Eddie comments, chuckling.

You stop, staring at Eddie with your mouth half open. Eddie is yanked back, tugged by his hand on your wrist. Huh, when did that get there? “You okay, there, sweetheart?”

You’re so fixated on your dad smoking you don’t even have time to process his use of the nickname. “My dad smokes pot?”

Eddie bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling shut as he throws his head back. “Your dad has absolutely smoked pot, sweetheart. Only every time he comes to see us in concert.”

Yet another thing that short circuits your brain, staring at him as if he grew a second head. “When has my dad seen you in concert?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, his laughter stopping almost altogether. “Oh shit, I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that,” he mutters, seemingly fixated on the bushes right next to the house you’re standing in front of.

“When does my father come see you in concert?” You glare, stepping forward more into his personal space with your hands arms tightly crossed.

“Every tour since you were born?” He answers, giving you a weak smile as he grimaces.

“What!?” You bark, tightening up your crossed arms. “Every concert? You’ve been going on tour consistently for the last 22 years!”

He throws his hands up in surrender, smoke floating up from the last remaining bits of the first joint still between two fingers. He holds it up for you, face just a bit cautious as he says, “You look Iike you need this.”

You yoink it from his fingers, taking a deep enough breath to kill the joint up to the filter. You’re not sure if its the company, the heat, or the weed, but this news really threw you off, and yes, you really needed it. The filter lands on the ground when you flick it, mindlessly pulling out the next joint and your own lighter from your bra.

As the end glows in amber, you take another deep inhale, forgetting Eddie’s still only a few feet away in front of you. You basically accidentally shotgun him. You pass it to him, seemingly completely unfazed by the puff of smoke you just blew in his face.

You jerk your head, suddenly remembering you’re supposed to be going for a walk. “Walk, we’re supposed to be walking,” you mumble to yourself, stepping away from Eddie as he laughs out a cloud.

A hand lands on your shoulder, startling you as you continue on the scorching pavement. You haven’t even hit the first crosswalk, yet and you’ve gone all fuzzy. You jerk your head back in surprise, turning your head to look up at him inquisitively.

“Sweetheart, you’re drifting,” he answers, using his wrist to fix your diagonal gait. “I think you’re very stoned.”

“It’s possible,” you muse, allowing the overwhelming scent of his cologne to float to the back of your mind. If it was the first thing, it would be the only thing.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, Eddie still keeping you somewhat steady as he continues to pass you the joint back and forth.

You’re in the middle of a mental spiral, thoughts coming and going, passing through like thoughts on a road until one particularly flashy thought passes by. “I had no idea he was going to your concerts,” you chirp out of nowhere, waiting for the light to indicate you can cross.

“To be fair it's not the best place for a kid,” he mutters, trying to make you feel better.

“‘M not a kid,” you deadpan, smoking a little bit of the last of the second joint.

“Compared to me, yes.” You glare at him, wanting to wipe off that stupid little smug grin off his face. “Regardless I’m sure your dad just needed some time off. He’s a single father of four kids, for Fuck’s sake.”

“I didn’t tell him to knock my mom up four times,” you mutter to yourself, earning another scoff from him.

“Wow, your filter is down, huh?” He chuckles, leading you across the crosswalk and towards the convenience store. “Don’t give your dad a hard time, he’s trying his best.”

You wanna move on from your dad so you’re no longer feeling guilty as you stare at his toned arms. Like, right now. Your eyes fiddle around the sidewalk, looking for any suitable topic of conversation. Anything. A chorus of laughter fills the air, your attention snapped to it immediately. As soon as you see the culprits, you blanch in disgust, jerking your attention back as you approach the convenience store entrance.

“Oh, god, gross,” you groan, stumbling as you push the glass door open.

Eddie trails a few feet behind you, leaning down as he asks, “Wh-what just happened?”

The repetitive motion of ice cream scooping hypnotizes you, catching you in a trance until Eddie bumps his hip into yours. “Hmm?”

“Outside. What was that?” He asks, pointing towards the door.

Oh, right, that. “Oh, my ex boyfriend,” you explain, wondering if you’re swaying on your feet or if the store just turned into a boat all the sudden. “Two years of my life I’ll never get back.”

“Which one was he?” He asks, putting one hand on your shoulder to steady you again.

If he were anyone else, you’d shrug him off, literally and metaphorically, offended at their need to ‘take care of you,’ so to speak. But your lowered inhibitions and inexplicable draw towards him allow the words to free flow out your mouth. “The idiot with the Oakley sunglasses hitting on what is probably the youngest girl he can without getting arrested— ooh they have cookie dough.”

Eddie chuckles, one hand on your shoulder as he pushes you forward. “They called for you about five times now, sweetheart.”

Oh, oops.

The teen with braces and her hair in braided pigtails, clearly working as a summer gig, looks annoyed as you stumble forward. “I um, want one scoop of cookie dough and one scoop of cookies n’ cream in a chocolate covered waffle cone, please.”

As she gets to work, pulling on gloves for what is probably the thousandth time for the day, reaching up for a cone off where they sit stacked Eddie leans in to say, “You know that’ll melt by the time you get home, right?”

You watch the girl scoop the ice cream, your grin growing wider with each addition of ice cream. “That makes it all the more fun to eat,” you smirk, biting your lip playfully.

The teen, Emma, you hazily notice from the name tag, holds out the cone with a measly single thin napkin. You have the foresight to understand the single napkin won’t be enough, but not to grab more.

You dig in humming as the first taste of cookie dough has a perfect little chunk of doughy goodness as Eddie orders a chocolate and vanilla soft serve swirl.

In mid bite you cough, almost exaggeratedly looking back and forth between your ice cream and the soft serve coming from its machine onto the cone. “What?” He asks, rocking on his heels.

You take another taste, “Nothing,” taste, “just,” holy shit this is good, “um…”

“Just…?”

He interrupts a rather delicious lick, eyes closed as you tilt the cone for a better angle. “Wha?”

“Oh, my god, thank God Steve’s out of town, or he’d kill me,” Eddie chuckles, grabbing the cone from Emma.

”Why?” You ask, the ice cream remaining on your lips as you take another bite.

“Because you are outrageously stoned- here you go, sweetheart,” your bottom lip pouts out at the use of the nickname toward the blushing teen, crossing one arm across your stomach as the cash register dings.

You have half a heart to thank him for paying, glad you wouldn’t have to hand over sweaty underboob cash as you start your way out when you hear your name, vaguely, then loudly. Oh god. You are not prepared to be hounded by—

“Andy!” You grimace, wiping some excess dessert from your jaw. “Hi! You here on break?”

“Oh,” he rolls his eyes, that same old cocky look smeared on his face. On Eddie it’s charming. On Andy it’s nauseating. “I dropped out in the first semester. I did not need to stay very long to know I know more than any of those pompous assholes.”

Hmm. You’re astounded. At his gull and that he knows what pompous means. “Guess all that talk about getting out of Hawkins was just talk,” you mutter, sloppily taking another bite.

You must’ve mumbled, as Andy leans in like he has no idea what you’ve said. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” you dismiss, missing Eddie glowering at him over your shoulder.

“Well, now that you’re in town,” he starts, brazenly grabbing you by the elbow, “what do you say we take some time and uh, revisit old times, yeah?”

You jerk your elbow away from him, your face squishing up at disgust by his sleazy voice suggesting you lie under him one more time for a rousing, unsatisfying round of mediocrity. “Ew, I’m good.”

“Now don’t be like that, pretty peach,” you always hated when he called you that, the reminder sending a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the ice cream itself. “What’s one more night?”

Only now do you realize he’s only tightened his grip on your elbow, ice cream in your other hand nearly forgotten as the hair on your arms rise. Eddie pops up, the memory of his prescience and the terror that takes over Andy’s face both send a rush of relief right through you.

“Take your slimy little hand off her, you pathetic little weasel,” Eddie’s voice is rough and assertive, the soft serve ice cream miraculously held stable in his other hand as he starts to bend the arm that was on your elbow unnaturally backwards. “She said ‘ew, no’”

”Ow,” Andy’s once bravado is turned weak, wiggling like a worm on a hook as he cries out his little yelps of pain. “Okay, okay!”

“If I want unsatisfying and awful sex, I’ll let you know.” Hmm, you glance back down to the cone that melted only the littlest bit, the top layer now softened and flowing down to the chocolate covered crust.You take a bite from the chocolate, the mix of cookie dough flavour with the chocolate exactly what you had in mind the whole walk over. ”Get lost, Andy.”

You feel Eddie close behind you as the sweltering sun welcomes you, a town wide sauna you don’t think you’d ever be so glad to walk into after being engrossed in a fridge temperature. “God, if never see Andy Lewis again, it’ll still be too soon, fuck that creep.”

“You dated him? For two years?” Eddie asks incredulously, having already eaten a chunk of his sweet tasty treat.

“Low self esteem and a parade of gaslighting would have you believe that he was the best boyfriend ever,” you sweetly smile, squinting your eyes as you take yet another bite of the cookie dough starting to blend with cookies n cream. As the blend explodes your taste buds, some trails down your fingers messily in the hot sun, completely rendering your soaked napkin useless.

His eyebrows furrow, giving you a look of what you assume can only be pity for a girl who thought that was a good boyfriend and had minuscule self worth until some dude in her freshman English class begged to eat her out. You still go to those receipts when you need the confidence boost.

Unfortunately for you, when you’re stoned and the very idea of sex crosses your mind, it sends you down a spiral. The unsatisfying sex with a gross sweaty Andy isn’t the thing that set it off, but the first time your legs shook certainly turned the faucet on. Next to you, Eddie takes your silence in stride, allowing you to float in your own hazy brain as he works to finish his cold treat before it disappears at the unforgiving hands of the blistering heat. He’s seemingly lost in the taste, the desert already down to the hilt of the cone as his tongue scoops, disappearing as he focuses on the flavour.

The drop of ice cream splashing your toe alerts you of the multiple trails of cream coloured sugar, your ice cream starting to resemble soup. Dammit. You start cleaning up your hand, quickly stroking your tongue down your hand as you attempt to grab control of the situation at hand. Your hand remains sticky as you move on to the ice cream soup that has cultivated in the chocolate shell, no more semblance of where cookies and cream started and cookie dough ended. No matter, guess it’s just a melted milkshake at this point, you shrug, starting to drink, grateful you haven’t eaten much of the cone yet.

Eddie starts slurping a little louder as he gets to the end of his soft serve, a noise you allow to simply exist in the background like white noise as arousal seemed to steadily pool deep in your gut. At this point you’re not sure if it’s the extra joint or the attraction you know better than to act on but his exuberant wet noises and grunts of satisfaction seem loud, flooding your ears until it’s all you can focus on.

Maybe you shouldn’t have worn shorts, the arousal having surely made its way down your thighs and past their frayed edges right below your ass. “You that stoned or did your ex boyfriend just spook ya?”

You blink back to Eddie, chewing on the last few bites of the chocolate cone. It's sadly not the same without the last little bit of ice cream tucked in. “Hmm?”

He looks at you pointedly, raising his brow as he starts to brush the hair out of his eyes, fixing the wisps of black bangs.

“Oh,” you giggle, the sentence finally registering. “I forgot I ran into Andy, honestly. I’m just super stoned and really need to—“ you cut yourself off, swallowing what is suddenly a very hefty case of cotton mouth, “take a shower,” you amend, ignoring Eddie’s intense stare.

It could’ve been intense, but the more you focus on the ever increasing need for friction, the more you grow increasingly aware of everything he’s doing.

“I just smoked a lot more and a lot faster than what I’m used to,” you mutter, fidgeting with your bun, at this point a mess of strands.

Eddie leans in close, using his pointer and middle finger to lift your chin up to face him. He’s much closer than you expect, able to see the finer details on his face even the most HQ photos couldn’t reveal. You blink, suddenly unable to remember the basic function of breathing.

“Next time don’t push yourself too hard when you know your tolerance isn’t as good as the person you’re smoking with. You could’ve told me.” Strange, he doesn’t sound disappointed, not in you, anyways. Just at your flagrant disregard for your own limits. His voice is smooth, yet demanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

“O-ok,” you stutter, thinking about the pads of his two fingers against your skin, picturing him taking the pointer and shoving it past your lips. The mental image quakes your knees. God you should’ve known your body would react this extreme to Eddie, weed has always been a catalyst for raging lust.

Unable to handle the eye contact for much longer, you rip your chin out from his grasp, recognizing the shrub you usually walked past on your way to school.

“I-I really need that shower,” you mutter, walking ahead of him to the long, windy driveway leading up to the Harringtons. Eddie’s flip flops smack against his heels step by step steadily behind you as you open the door, remembering Eddie’s haste as he tried to catch up to you.

He says nothing as you rush up the stairs, slamming the door behind him as he saunters into the living room to fool around his guitar.

The blasting air conditioner should be refreshing after spending an hour or so in the hot blazing sun with no water, but it does little to off-set the raging fire coursing through you. Your face feels hot, stretching to scratch an itch you know can only be scratched one way when you're as blitzed as you are.

It’s one thing to picture him when he’s a million miles away in LA or on covers of magazines, but its another entirely when he’s right downstairs after a walk in during which he defended your honour.

You switch back to it, his commanding tone and demonstration of strength as he so effortlessly pushed a boy whose name you don’t even want to think about in this cloud of overwhelming desire. You open your eyes, standing in the middle of your room, the weight of your hand trailing over your skin suddenly heavy but doing its job all the same.

You kick off your sandals, having forgotten to at the front door. The shorts and thong come off as well, having no patience in teasing yourself as you normally do. Your head meets your pillow, legs spread as you start to make yourself comfortable.

As soon as your core meets the air the stark realization of how wet you are sinks in, the arousal slick down your thighs at this point ready for something more… You feel the sharp exhale deep in your belly, rolling over you in an impatient wave begging for some kind of relief.

As your fingers start to roll across your clit, you gasp in how wet you are. It usually takes a vibraor and some self teasing to get this far, Jesus. For some reason the fingers aren’t doing enough, whining needing as you attempt to get the friction you so desperately need.

As two fingers slide through the weeping, begging hole you grind the heel of your hand against your clit, desperately lifting your hips up to meet it. Right now you don’t even have to picture him doing anything particularly dirty like his hips rolling against yours as he fucks into you or his pretty brown eyes peering up from between your legs.

No.

Just the demonstration of his strength as he so easily yanked the asshole’s arm back and his commanding, harsh tone was doing it for you. His sun-kissed skin, the halo of bright yellow sun surrounding his curls, his toned arms…his lips so close to yours, that was enough to get you halfway there.

And loud enough for any potential wandering ears.

Thank you so much for reading remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

She might get juicy next ch

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raspberrybesitos · 11 months ago

Text

frosted cookies | husband!frankie morales x wife!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4.4k

Summary: You pack away an extra treat in your husband’s lunch. What happens when Frankie sees you’ve packed more than just some cookies? Cookies won’t be the only thing that’s frosted when he has his way with you.

Warnings: unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, doggy style, missionary, praise kink, three (3) spanks, cum eating, teeniest bit of soft dom!Frankie, sickening fluff, after care, pet names (querida, hermosa, baby, etc), husband!Frankie being so in love and down bad for his wife, reader speaks some Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, some Spanish translations throughout.

A/N: can be read as part of the “just married” universe or a stand alone. did y’all think i forgot about a 500 follower treat?! hehehe i would never!! i’m back with a lil slice of domestic holiday bliss and smut with our guy, our husband! i’m just so down bad for Frankie, like there’s really no explaining myself. he’s everything. i want him so bad.🧎‍♀️anyway, happy Frankie friday everybody! hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏼 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Jesus, querida. How many cookies are you gonna bake?” Frankie asks before popping one into his mouth. “Francisco! Ya basta! (Enough) Those are for tomorrow!” You yell, smacking your husband’s hand away from getting anymore cookies.

After tomorrow, you and Frankie are off for 10 days. The stress and anticipation of the festivities and just spending uninterrupted time together energizes you to work rapidly. You’ve been baking all day for your office’s Christmas party, whipping up an array of cookies and packaging them up to give out to your coworkers.

Flour, powdered sugar, and icing bags are scattered throughout the counter. A bowl of icing sitting in the middle of the island and cookie cutters next to 3 trays of cookies. Powdered sugar coats your hands and icing splattered across your apron.

“Lo siento, bebita, (I'm sorry, baby girl)” he says through a muffled mouthful of cookie, rubbing circles on your lower back while he peppers kisses to your shoulder.

“I have to make sure there’s enough for everyone. 50 is good right? The whole office will be there, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out,” you ramble as you roll out the last batch of dough in between parchment paper. Frankie rubs up and down your arms as you cut them into shapes.

“50 is plenty, baby. You work too hard, mi amor. Is this the last batch?”

“Yeah, I’ll finally be done after this one comes out the oven,” you say as you place them onto the cookie sheet.

“Good. You need to rest, and I wanna have my wife to myself.” You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around his neck. “You sure no one will feel left out?”

A small gentle smile splays on his lips as he readjusts his grip on your hips. “No one will feel left out, baby. I promise. And if they do, then fuck ‘em. They don’t know how hard you work, or how kind you truly are,” he softly says. A relieved smile creeps onto your face as a toothy grin appears on his. He places a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips, you getting lost in him as the taste of him mixes with the sugary cookie he’d just eaten. Both of you sighing into one another, never getting enough of each other.

The oven timer dings, startling the both of you and breaking the kiss as you jump back a bit. The two of you giggling like a pair of children, Frankie places one last chaste kiss to your lips as you head to the oven. Feeling a playful swat to your ass, you turn around and playfully scold your husband as you remove the cookies out of the oven - the aroma of sugar and spice filling the air.

“How long’s this last batch gonna take, mi vida?” Frankie asks as you place the final batch of cookies in the oven. “Only 15 minutes, mi amor. Tener paciencia (have patience),” you say through a fit of giggles, laughing at your husband’s impatience. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as you stride towards him. Pulling him in for another kiss, his hands freely roam down to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Laughing into him, you pull away as you bark out a belly laugh, your husband mirroring you.

“Could you help me clean up, please baby? The faster we clean, the faster I’m all yours,” you taunt. “Of course, mi vida, you don’t even have to ask. Although, the incentive is nice,” he says with a smirk. The two of you swiftly maneuver throughout the kitchen while the cookies bake. Frankie clearing the counter as you wipe it down, and washing and drying dishes together - working in tandem to tidy up your kitchen. The oven timer dings once more, Frankie washing and drying the remaining dishes as you remove the last batch and set them on the cooling rack. As you remove your oven mitts, Frankie tosses the dish rag onto the counter and swoops behind you, engulfing you in his broad, taut arms while he litters kisses along your neck.

“All done, mi amor?” He asks against your skin, his mustache tickling you along with his eagerness, eliciting a laugh from you. “All done, mi amor,” you laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck to twirl the curls at the nape of his neck. “Vamos, mi esposa,” he says, whisking you away and up the stairs.

Laughter bubbling over the two of you as you rush up the stairs.

After tomorrow, it’s 10 days of this - uninterrupted bliss with each other.

Frankie plops down on the chair, groaning as time ticks by agonizingly slow. He runs a hand over his face, his wedding ring making contact with his cheek reminds him of you - just 4 more hours until he’s home with you.

Cracking open his lunchbox, he smiles as he spots the usual yellow sticky note that you pack in his lunch which lay atop some of the freshly baked cookies that you made last night. Picking it up, he reads the note:

“Enjoy your lunch, mi esposo hermoso. Can’t wait for you to frost my cookie when you get home ;)

-Con amor, su esposa”

Beneath it, a polaroid of you dressed in a crimson red babydoll with white fur lining the bust. It leaves little to the imagination as you display your breasts to the camera, a coy smile on your lips as white frosting runs down your lips and onto your chin, teasingly biting into one of the cookies you baked.

His breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening as he takes in your form. He’s hard as a fucking rock, his lunch now completely forgotten.

“‘S matter, boss? Wife forget to pack your juice or something?” A stupid rookie asks, laughing too hard at his own joke as he creeps up behind Frankie to catch a glimpse inside his lunchbox. Frankie immediately drops the polaroid back inside and flips the lid closed before the rookie can see it.

“Shut the hell up, Daniel,” Frankie grumbles as he rises to his feet, stomping out of the break room and into his tiny, cluttered office. He typically eats lunch here, wanting to get away from the fumes that permeate the shop, but the anticipation of your time off together made him antsy - seeking out a place without constant reminders of you as the day drags on.

That did absolutely nothing. Your boudoir polaroid having made his day better and worse simultaneously. You looked nothing short of a dream, but now his impatience is getting the better of him as his mind wanders to all the things he plans to do to you tonight. He groans, his cock still half hard as he unravels his lunch. He huffs sticking the polaroid in his wallet, aggressively nibbling at his lunch.

Could this day go by any slower?

He opens the door, tossing his keys into the bowl as he shuts and locks it. Trudging inside, he toes off his boots, pushing them to the side as he takes in your fully decorated home. His heart swells at the sight, knowing you were off work early today after your office party. Meaning you probably spent the entire afternoon decorating.

Garlands adorn every wall, the tree now fully decorated and the Christmas village sits atop the mantle. Twinkling lights warmly illuminate the room. The sprig of mistletoe hangs above the entryway to the kitchen, the smell of dinner and more baked goods permeating through the air mingling with the fresh pine scent of the tree.

You’ve gone full Christmas-mode and he can’t get enough of your domesticity - your ability to make every single thing you touch feel like home.

“Frankie?!” You yell faintly from the kitchen.

“Hermosa, I’m home!” He shouts as he shrugs off his brown utility jacket. Footsteps bound from the kitchen and into the hall. There you stand, in all your domestic glory with your apron around your front and a bit of flour on your cheek.

You beam at him, happy your husband is finally home for the week. Your office is closed and so is the shop for the following week and then some for the holiday, now you have him all to yourself for the next 10 days. Practically flinging yourself into his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss. He laughs at your eagerness, his cock twitching in his pants as you tug him closer by his soft curls, deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, a soft moan escaping you and into Frankie.

It’s unclear who breaks the kiss first, but the both of you are heaving, panting for air. The smile returning to your face, a smug look appearing on your husband’s face.

“Hi, baby. I missed you.” Your hands snake up his chest and you remove his cap from his head, setting it on the table by the door, carding your fingers through his hair. His smile softens, eyes gleaming with love. “Hi, mi amor. I missed you too. I see you got up to some stuff while I was gone,” he says, swirling circles on your lower back. You giggle, knowing you can be a bit elaborate when it comes to decorating.

“‘S not too much?” You ask. He quickly shakes his head. “Never, mi amor,” he nearly whispers, reassuring you before capturing your lips in another kiss. Walking you backwards into the kitchen, he presses you up against the kitchen counter, catching a whiff of something baking in the oven again.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours as he swipes away the flour that’s smudged on your cheek. “You’re still baking, mi vida? I thought you were finished,” he asks. “I am, but I wanted to make you something, a treat to celebrate our vacation,” you ramble. A chuckle rumbles in his sturdy chest.

“Got the most delicious treat right here,” he tsks, you chuckle rolling your eyes at his cheesiness as butterflies erupt in your belly. His hardening length presses against your core as he dives in to litter your neck with kisses. “Even got a picture to prove it,” he rasps against you. A small gasp escapes you.

So he did see the picture.

“Oh really? Can I see this picture, amor?” Your voice breathy and titillating, feigning oblivion as a smirk plastered on your face while he sucks on your neck.

“I’m sure you know what it looks like. In fact, you’re gonna let me recreate it with the real thing, baby.” His voice low and husky now as his clothed, hard cock ruts into you.

A wave of arousal pools in your panties. “I am?” You breathlessly ask, still keeping up the innocent act.

“Mhmm. Gonna be covered in me. Isn’t that what you wanted, princesa? Huh? You couldn’t wait for me to get home and frost your cookie, hermosa?” He asks as his lips ghost over yours now, emphasizing the reference to the note you’d put in his lunchbox this morning. You snort, eyes shutting as heat courses through your veins as he quotes the note, and warmth blooming in your belly.

A light smack to your thigh reels you back in, eyes flying open. His eyes filled with lust, pupils darkening. Your eyes glossy and hazy, feeling tipsy just off his embrace, his words.

“Y-yes, Frankie. ‘S what I wanted - want. Want you s-so bad, mi amor,” you mumble against his ear as he resumes peppering kisses along your chest. Humming against you, your words going straight to his cock, which you feel as he presses into your core a bit harder.

“Want you so bad, too, princesa. Been wanting you all day. Y’know how hard it was to keep it together seeing that picture of you? Look so fucking sexy, fuck. Had to stop myself from cumming in my jeans like a fucking teenager,” he mutters into your ear. You giggle, taking great joy in knowing your husband wants you just as bad as you do, maybe even more.

He bites down on your earlobe, your giggles quickly dissipating into a moan. “But what you did today was so bad, mi vida. Distracted me all fucking day from work, could barely concentrate. I think you just made it on the naughty list. What do you think, baby? Are you naughty or nice?”

“N-nice. Nice, baby,” you whimper as Frankie unties your apron and smoothly tosses it on the counter.

“Mmmm, you sure about that? You gonna be a nice, good girl for me and let me have my way with you?” You furiously nod, your neediness growing into an impatient monster.

He laughs at your eagerness, relishing in how needy you are for him. “Come on, princesa. Show me how good you are,” he rasps before releasing you from his grasp, grabbing your hand as you two stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Excitement stirring within you as he leads you to your room.

Frankie flings the door open, eagerly bringing you into his embrace again. He cups your cheeks, leaning in as his lips engulf yours in a messy, heated kiss. It’s all tongue as teeth gnash together, moans flying out from both of you while you strip each other down. Frankie groans as he discards your bra onto the floor. You can’t help the moan that escapes you as you shuck off your husband’s briefs, his hard cock springing free, weeping and red.

“On the bed, hermosa,” he demands, his timbre husky and low. You scramble onto the bed, laying on your back, displaying yourself for your husband. “Spread your legs.”

Your brain on autopilot, operating as if Frankie has a remote to control your actions.

Legs spread, the cool air of the room hits your sopping core, a shiver running down your spine. Frankie licks his lips, pupils blown black and wide swirling with lust. He stalks towards you, laying down and settling himself in front of your aching pussy. He grabs your thighs, placing them on either side of his head. The frigidity of his wedding band burning into your skin, contrasting the blaze that burns from within you as you anticipate your husband’s next move.

You pant as the excitement transforms into a forest fire within your core, Frankie so close to where you desperately need him. He presses firm kisses to your thighs, your breath catching in your throat again. Kissing and nipping at your thighs, your neediness causes your hips to involuntarily buck into Frankie - his nose catching on your clit for a split second. A shocking loud moan escapes you as Frankie pushes you back down on the bed.

“Just like you told me last night, mi vida. And like how I had to tell myself after what you pulled this afternoon: tener paciencia,” he practically growls against your thighs. You whine as his teasing resumes. You know this is payback for the polaroid, making him wait all day for some relief. Your husband is the most patient man you know, even when he wants nothing more than to take you any chance he can get.

His desire for you though, constantly burning, so you know this must be killing him too. However, the sweet revenge of seeing you fall apart and writhe under him, begging him to do something is the most delicious reward.

“Frankie,” you desperately sigh, eyes closing as he presses kisses to your mound. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted? Hmm, baby?” He asks against your core, your eyes opening and to lock with his gaze. “Never, mi amor,” you nearly whisper, it comes out much more rushed than intended.

“Tranquila, mi vida. I’m gonna take care of you and this pretty pussy. I got you, baby,” he says with one last kiss to your thigh. Without preamble, he licks a long, languid stripe up your folds. A relieved moan tumbling from your lips as you bury your head further into the pillow. He repetitiously licks up your glistening core, your clit throbbing for some attention. Your husband knows your body like the back of his hand, as if he can read your mind.

He flicks your precious pearl with a steady rhythm, wrapping his lips around it. You twitch underneath him, eyes heavy and glazed.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You keen as your hands fly to tug on his hair, his rhythmic, skilled tongue bringing you closer to the edge. Your weeping cunt clenches around nothing as a wave of slick seeps from your hole. He snakes a hand up to cup your breast, flicking and suckling your clit as he rolls your nipple in between his thick, calloused fingers, alternating breasts. Your breathing is ragged as you moan, Frankie groaning and humming into you. The vibrations rumbling from within him launching you higher into your climax, teetering on lift off.

“Feels s-so f-fucking good, Frankie. Always s-so fucking g-good,” you babble. He pulls away for a second, his chin coated in your slick. “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Let go, hermosa,” he rasps right above your swollen cunt. He dives back in, moving his hand from your breast to your entrance, two fingers sliding home with the amount of slick pouring from you.

A sharp gasp escapes you, eyes rolling back at the welcomed intrusion as Frankie rapidly and steadily alternates between sucking and flicking your clit. His fingers hitting that spongy spot only his fingers and cock can reach. The coil in your belly snaps as you’re launched into your orgasm, stars appearing behind your eyes as your vision blurs white hot.

Frankie helps you ride out your high as you scream and writhe beneath him, lapping up every last drop of slick gushing from your throbbing pussy. Desperately trying not to rut his hips into the mattress, he groans at the sweet, tangy taste of you that he can never get enough of. Your thighs tremble as you slowly return back to Earth, whimpering as Frankie presses soft kisses to your thighs.

“Did so good for me, baby. Always so fucking good for me,” he hushes you, peppering kisses up your body.

You fight to keep your eyes open, catching sight of your husband soaked in your release as his mustache and patchy beard gleams in the warm glow of the bedroom.

Pulling him down, you connect your lips with his, both of you moaning into one another. Wrapping your arms around his broad, strong shoulders as you tug on his curls. His mouth licking into yours, letting you taste your sweet slick on your tongue. Sweet and heady, the kiss melds into something sinful as you feel Frankie’s hard, leaking cock rubs right above your core. Precum smearing on your belly, Frankie pulls back and moans at the friction.

“Not done with you yet, querida,” he says gruffly as he lifts himself off you. “Turn around,” he demands. You recognize that tone: he’s gonna have his way with you tonight. A shiver runs down your spine as a new rush of arousal burns brightly in your core. You swiftly lay on your stomach.

“On your knees, baby.” His voice husky and firm. You readjust yourself and settle on your knees, balancing yourself on your forearms. Feeling the mattress dip behind you, another spark of arousal jolts in your pussy, your belly warm and full of anticipation. You can hear Frankie pumping himself in his fist as he lines his hips up with yours.

“See, you can be a good girl. Knew you could do it, mi vida.” You moan at his praise. His large hands caress your ass, engulfing your cheeks in each hand, admiring the view. You teasingly wiggle your ass, Frankie-drunk giggles bubbling over your lips and spilling into the pillow. A smack comes down on your ass, the sting of it making your pussy throb. Moaning as you turn your head to the side, locking eyes with Frankie.

His chocolate irises invisible, eyes completely darkened and filled to the brim with lust.

“Don’t start.” You nod, drool pooling under your mouth, your patience wearing thin. “Be good, baby,” he rasps as he lines his cock up with your entrance. His tip prodding your aching hole, as one of his hands rests on your ass. He slowly slides in, taking his time bottoming out. Both of you moaning in tandem as his cock splits you open, the sting blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. You squeeze around him as he fully sheathes himself inside you, never fully getting used to his size despite being married to him now.

“Alright, baby. Alright, baby,” He hisses, roughly kneading your ass. “Come on now. Relax, baby. I got you,” he calmly whispers. You feel yourself relax, unclenching and releasing him from your vice grip. “There we go. Good girl,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss behind the shell of your ear.

He slowly slides out from you, nearly pulling out all the way until he slams his hips back into yours. His cock punching your cervix.

“Frankie!” You gasp, moaning as you grip the sheets. He repeats the motion, grunting as he cants his hips. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy ever. Fuck, always feel so fucking good, baby. You were made for me, made to take my cock. Huh, querida?” He asks, breathing ragged as he fucks in and out of you. You nod and moan in agreement, words escaping you as he brings you close to your second orgasm. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to slowly creep up on you, still reeling from the sensitivity of your previous one.

Another smack hits your ass, clenching around him in your tight heat. You love when Frankie gets a bit rough with you.

“Words, querida. Come on, you were doing so good,” he taunts. You swallow through your moans, unaware of the desperate tears of pleasure that were pooling in your eyes.

“Y-yes, baby. Made for you, made for your cock. S-so fucking good to me, Frankie. L-luckiest girl in the w-world,” you babble. You feel him twitch inside you before he pulls out.

Whining at the loss of your husband’s cock, you’re suddenly being flipped on your back. Before you can give what’s happening a second thought, Frankie slides back into you. Your calves pressed against his strong chest, your ankles resting atop his taut shoulders as he bends you in half. His pace rapidly picking up, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“‘S right, baby. Made for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world, querida. Won the wife lottery,” he rasps lowly, pressing a kiss to your calf.

The love you have for this man is overwhelming. His existence constantly gracing your mind, his unwavering support, his unconditional love, never feeling like you’re not enough for him, his kindness, his patience, how gentle he is with you even when he’s roughing you up.

“Eres la esposa más hermosa y perfecta del mundo. (You're the most beautiful and perfect wife in the world) So lucky to call you my wife, baby,” he grunts, punctuating each word with his thrusts. His sweet words toss you over the edge, fat tears of euphoria and love cascade down your cheeks as you scream his name.

An endless stream of slick seeps from your cunt, coating Frankie in your release. The squelching sound filling the air mixed with pants and moans is sinful, obscene.

“Fuck yes, baby. Give it to me, all of it. Soak my cock, querida. So fucking good - you, this pussy, our life, fuck yes,” he babbles. You mindlessly move your legs from his hold to wrap around his middle, bringing him in closer as you ride out your high.

“Love you so much, Frankie. Best husband in the world, come on, mi amor. Cum for me, need your cum,” you whine, giving him one last good squeeze. Frankie fills you up with half his load before pulling out and coating your mound in his cum. Endless moans streaming from you both. Frankie cums for a long time.

The picture really did a number on him.

Ropes of his spend coats your sex and your belly. Unable to control yourself, you reach down and swipe two fingers through his cum and lick them clean. Relishing the delicious, salty taste of your husband. Frankie groans as he sees you suck your fingers clean, gathering cum on his fingers and stuffing it back into your cunt. You moan around your fingers at the feeling of his thick, long fingers stuffing you full of his cum.

Releasing your fingers with a pop, Frankie pounces on you - his fingers brushing against your lips, prying your mouth open. You suck them into your mouth, an animalistic groan rumbling from within you as you taste the combination of you two. He removes his fingers, adjusting himself to pin you down, caging you in between his large biceps.

He dives in for a kiss, it’s slower - savoring the taste of you and him on your tongue as he soaks in the love which radiates off your body and into his soul. “Love you so much, mi vida. Para siempre (Always),” he whispers against your lips. You cup his cheeks, a soft smile on your lips as your eyes glimmer with contentment and love.

“Para siempre,” you repeat. Another firm, lingering kiss is pressed to your lips before he rises to his feet, padding to your shared bathroom. The faucet turns on, your usual routine of aftercare beginning. Frankie returns with the warm rag, gently cleaning you up.

“Frosted your cookie pretty good, huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips, curls in disarray.

You bark out a belly laugh, unable to control your laughter at your husband’s stupid joke.

“Francisco!” You squeal. Frankie tsks and rolls his eyes. “Oh after all the shit we just did, that’s where you draw the line?!” He playfully asks, a toothy grin on his face.

“No, I just thought you forgot about that stupid note!” You say through your laughter, Frankie bursting into a fit of giggles with you. “Wasn’t stupid, and how could I ever forget that and that picture?” He asks as he continues to clean you up.

“Speaking of, I’m not even gonna question when and how you took that picture, but next time, I’m helping you,” he says as he rises up and walks back into the bathroom to discard the rag into the laundry basket. “Whatever you say, mi amor,” you tease from the bed.

He returns, playfully pouncing on the bed beside you. Another fit of giggles erupts from you.

“That’s right, baby. Whatever I say,” he says with a wink and a smile, interlacing your fingers with his - toying with your wedding ring as he places a chaste kiss to your lips before saddling up beside you.

i love husband!Frankie sm 😫😔

wrote this on a bit of a whim, i had no idea what i wanted to do, i just knew i wanted to write a lil christmasy somethin-somethin for y'all 🩷

i hope y'all enjoyed!!! thank you for reading 🫶🏼

tag list: @nostalxgic @sweetercalypso @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @joelsgreys @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @javierpena-inatacvest @pedgito @tupelomiss @pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#nini’s 500 follower celebration #happy frankie friday #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #husband!frankie

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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months ago

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Last Night in Magic Shop | pjm

You find yourself down at the local club, Magic Shop, because your best friend feels like your lovelife is dry as ice. You did not plan on meeting a handsome stranger, who moves his body like an angel, but speaks like the devil. Feeling like he might match your nasty needs, you take him home, enjoying an unforgettable night filled with pleasure.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Genre + AUs: strangers to lovers, one night stand, vampire!au, smut (pwp), and a little sprinkle of angst and fluff (it’s very short and minor) → Word Count: 12.5k → Rating: mature / +18 → Warnings: explicit smut, exhibitionism + semi public sex (they are in a car and kinda get caught and they stop), kissing, grinding, thighs (yes it’s a warning), a harness (as fashion, yes, also a warning), choking, dirty talk, power play (it’s very dynamic but they are both trying to be more dominant, lol), dom/sub undertones, pleasing kink, oral (female and male receiving), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, biting, mentions of blood (it’s brief at the end), rough sex, but also very intimate, breast and nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, spitting— in general this one is very dirty, flirty and rough! → Author’s note: hi!!!! This is my gift to all you lovely people that follow me, and also to everyone else too! 💜 I really want to thank you, for following me, for reading my stories, for following my recs and library and helping me to show love to all the other authors on this platform that way 🫶 Thank you, truly. This is my gift to you— for my 1k follower milestone 🥳 It actually happened some time ago, I was still writing my long series at the time, so I didn’t really have time to celebrate it, but I really wanted to, so here I am bearing a gift! It’s another filthy one, and I have so much fun writing these, because this isn’t what I normally write (I’m more the fluffy and smutty, a lot of detail and words type of gal). I appreciate you all so much, and to those few people who really interact with me by commenting, messaging me, and just being there— thank you, you are incredible and I love you so much 🥹 Thank you, I hope you enjoy this one 💜 → Author’s note(2): this is pure utter filth yet again. I didn’t proofread this (I might do it later and find my stupid mistakes), but right now, I’m not in the mood. I hope it isn’t horrible, I’m feeling like that myself, but I really tried to make it extra filthy (more so than what I usually write). I do still hope that you enjoy and like it 🌸

Do you prefer to read on AO3? Well, it's posted there too!

Despite your usual aversion to clubbing—the cacophony of deafening music, the stifling heat enveloping you, your skimpy outfit clinging to your skin like a second layer—somehow, you find yourself succumbing to the relentless persuasion of your best friend, Hana, who insists on dragging you down to the pulsating heart of the local club scene, Magic Shop. Why you’re willingly diving into this chaotic abyss, well, that’s a fucking mystery even to you.

As Hana navigates the bustling bar to order drinks, you scan the crowded expanse for a spot to settle, but every booth seems occupied in this sea of bodies pulsating to the throb of the music. Amidst the frenzy, your gaze drifts inevitably to the dance floor, where a blonde haired man commands attention with his effortless grace, his movements a symphony of fluidity and raw sensuality. Mesmerized, you can’t tear your eyes away, tracing the contours of his physique, the chiseled jawline, the tantalizing glimpse of collarbones beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The way that he moves his hips, undulating and assaulting the air like he’s making love to it, sends dangerous spikes of arousal through your body. And then, your breath catches as you notice the daring accessory adorning his torso—a leather harness, snugly embracing his waist wrapped around him twice and being collected at his shoulders, with a tantalizing hint of danger, leaving you spellbound and inexplicably captivated.

No. That couldn’t possibly be your saliva glistening on the floor, could it?

“Have you found a place to sit?” Hana’s voice interrupts your trance, but as you remain transfixed, she tracks your gaze to the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor, drawing an eclectic crowd like moths to a flame. With a knowing chuckle, she realizes the source of your fixation.

“Ah... Jimin has caught your eye,” she chuckles, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips as she wets them with the tip of her tongue. With a playful wink, she acknowledges your attraction before swiftly scanning the room for the elusive empty booth you had overlooked.

She drags you along with your drinks to an unoccupied booth, the crimson leather beckoning like a siren’s call. You both sink into the plush seats, but your attention remains tethered to Jimin, captivated by his every fluid motion.

You’re spellbound, utterly captivated by the mesmerizing display unfolding before you. How does someone possess such mastery over their own body? With each twist and turn, Jimin exudes a level of control that borders on otherworldly, his slender frame clad in skin-tight leather pants that leave little to the imagination. His thighs, robust and powerful, evoke a primal longing within you, God, what you’d do to be crushed by those.

The sound of something snapping jolts you from your trance, and you instinctively tear your gaze away from Jimin, heat flooding your cheeks and ears as you turn towards your best friend. Your heart pounds, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration, as her fingers snap, commanding your attention back to her, a silent reminder of the real world beyond your intoxicating reverie.

“You’ve got it bad for him,” she smirks, teasing and taunting in equal measure as she swirls her straw through her drink, a wicked gleam dancing in her eyes before her lips playfully encircles the straw, a silent challenge hanging in the air.

“No, I don't,” you declare, the lie hanging heavy in the air, though you’re well aware she sees right through you. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, betraying your denial, while your gaze remains ensnared by the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor. With each pulse of the music, your heart threatens to break free from your chest, pounding an erratic rhythm of desire and apprehension.

“You and every other soul in Magic Shop,” she bursts out laughing, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she brings her drink to her lips once more, the ice clinking against the glass in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the music.

Your brows knit together in a mix of frustration and discomfort. She’s keenly aware of how long it’s been since you’ve let loose, both on the dance floor and in the bedroom. She knows the ache of longing that's settled deep within you, a silent companion during those lonely nights. And perhaps that’s why she’s orchestrated this night out, dragging you to this chaotic den of temptation, her intentions as transparent as glass: she wants you to indulge, to find release in the arms of another.

Yet, despite Hana’s persistent nudges towards potential romantic connections, you harbor little optimism for any amorous encounters tonight beyond enjoying the company of your friend. It’s not that you hold rigid standards, per se, but after navigating through numerous relationships and even dalliances with one-night stands, you’ve come to a firm conclusion: you don’t crave love, nor do you feel a pressing need for a man in your life. However, Hana sees it differently; she views your reluctance to dive back into the dating pool as a lamentable missed opportunity for some good dick, hence her relentless efforts to nudge you towards potential romantic escapades.

None of your past relationships have managed to captivate you for long; they’ve all fallen short of taming your restless spirit or fulfilling your insatiable hunger. None have been able to meet you on equal footing, to sate the voracious appetite that burns within you.

But as you watch Jimin, something shifts within you, challenging your steadfast stance on one-night stands. Holy fuck, the man’s dancing is nothing short of mesmerizing, and if you claimed you weren’t already feeling a surge of arousal just from laying eyes on him, well, that would be a blatant lie.

He might just possess the rare ability to match your intensity, your insatiable hunger for connection. He exudes an aura of irresistibility that both entices and intimidates you, knowing full well he could be too much to handle. But you revel in the thrill of the chase too much to resist the temptation of a potentially unforgettable encounter.

You find yourself unable to shake the thought: does the way he moves on the dance floor hint at his prowess between the sheets? Those hips, snapping and thrusting with such abandon, leave little to the imagination, igniting fantasies of what they could do in a more intimate setting. If only it weren’t just the air he was thrusting into…

Fuck.

A shiver of apprehension snakes down your spine as you witness the crowd parting, creating a path directly towards you. Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as you realize the magnetic force drawing him closer is aimed squarely in your direction.

His gaze, as dark as the depths of the club’s chaos, pierces through the tumult, locking onto you with a laser-like intensity. In those obsidian orbs, a potent mixture of desire, confidence, and a hint of something dangerous dances. A quick flick of his tongue over his lips sends a jolt of electricity through the air, so fleeting you almost doubt you saw it, yet you can’t shake the image of something glinting, sharp, nestled between his teeth.

Your pulse races even faster, a frantic rhythm matching the pounding bass of the music, as Hana’s kick under the table barely registers amidst the magnetic pull of Jimin’s gaze. With each step he takes toward you, the air grows thinner, suffused with the heady anticipation of his proximity. Your lungs strain for oxygen, chest heaving with each shallow breath, as he finally stands before you, a commanding presence that leaves you breathless and utterly captivated.

“Hi,” his voice is a seductive melody, dripping with a sweetness that lingers in the air like honey. His complexion, paler than the moonlight, seems to shimmer under the dim lights of the club, casting an ethereal glow that draws you in even closer.

“I haven’t seen you in The Magic Shop before. Care to dance?” His invitation is laced with an enticing charm, emphasized by the subtle swipe of his tongue over his lips, leaving them glistening with a tempting sheen. Those lips, plush and inviting, evoke a sinful allure, almost reminiscent of a Bratz doll, but with a touch of dangerous sophistication. And his eyes, simultaneously gentle yet piercing, hold a captivating depth that beckons you further into his intoxicating world.

For a fleeting moment, you’re rendered speechless, caught off guard by his proposition, until Hana’s insistent nudge against your shin reignites your senses. With a jolt, your mind snaps back into focus, racing to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling within you.

You can’t help but smile, warmth flooding your cheeks as a rosy hue paints your features. “Sure,” you reply, the word escaping in a breathless whisper, your heart pounding in anticipation of what the night may hold.

With a quick glance and an apologetic smile, you abandon both Hana and the untouched drink sitting before you, the promise of the dance floor eclipsing any lingering sense of guilt. She waves you off with a knowing smirk and a playful wink, seamlessly returning her attention to her own drink, her silent encouragement echoing in your mind as you navigate towards Jimin.

With a firm yet gentle grip, Jimin guides you back to the heart of the pulsating dance floor, his touch igniting a wave of electric anticipation. Envious gazes track your every move as he positions you in the center, his fingers finding their place on your hips with a confident precision. With each sway to the rhythm, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you and the music.

You’re enveloped in a trance-like state, surrendering to the rhythm dictated by his touch. While you may not consider yourself a skilled dancer, you grasp onto the simplicity of a few basic moves, but in this moment, you relinquish control, allowing the music to guide your every sway and dip, melding your body to its seductive melody.

Amidst the snickers and the encroaching dancers, Jimin remains unfazed, his attention steadfastly fixed on you and you alone. The world may swirl with whispers and glances, but in his eyes, there’s only the two of you, locked in a mesmerizing dance of desire and lust.

Drawing nearer, Jimin’s presence becomes almost suffocating, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in. His voice, dripping with a seductive allure that sends shivers down your spine, wraps around you like a venomous embrace. “What’s your name?” He murmurs, each word laced with a potent mixture of desire and danger, leaving you utterly captivated.

“Y/N,” you pant, the syllables escaping your lips in a breathless whisper, as if each letter were a confession of the wildfire burning within you. Your heart races like a runaway train, its thunderous beats drowning out the cacophony of the club around you. A flush of heat spreads through your body, igniting a primal fire that blazes from within, leaving you certain that every inch of you must be dripping with arousal, pooling at your feet like molten desire.

“I’m Jimin,” he introduces himself, the words carrying a weight of promise as his fingers tighten around your hips, almost leaving an imprint on your skin. You nod in silent acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between you, as if the intensity of his touch speaks volumes more than mere words ever could.

Suddenly, he spins you around, pulling you flush against him, his dick pressing intimately against your ass as he grinds against you with an electrifying urgency. Resting his head on your shoulder, he envelops you in his intoxicating presence, the rhythm of the music pulsating through both of you. “You know,” he whispers huskily into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “I can smell you from here. And damn, you smell so damn good.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he playfully nips at your earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. With a daring touch, his hand edges dangerously close to your core, his fingers trailing along the hem of your dress, hiking it up just enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

The pressure of his body against yours, the rhythmic grind of his hips, brings an undeniable awareness of the growing bulge pressing into you with every movement. Each subtle thrust sends a surge of heat coursing through you, igniting an even fiercer desire that has you practically dripping with anticipation.

Releasing your hips with a tantalizing touch, he withdraws slightly, allowing you a moment to dance before him, a silent invitation to showcase your allure. His gaze, smoldering with appreciation, traces the curves of your body as he maneuvers around you, closing the distance once more. As he resumes his sensual grind against you, you're entranced by the fluidity of his movements, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the magnetic pull of his presence.

“Are you some kind of professional dancer?” You manage to question, though the words emerge as a breathless whisper, your lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to contain the moan that hovers on the edge of your lips, provoked by the tantalizing roll of his hips against your own.

Awareness of the surrounding stares registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but in this pulsating sea of bodies, everyone’s lost in their own rhythm. The only thing that matters is the intoxicating sensation of Jimin’s body pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

He leans in once more, his voice a seductive melody laced with a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m a dancer.” Each word drips with an intoxicating allure, drawing you deeper into the irresistible allure of his world.

You gulp audibly, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, where his heart beats with a rhythm so languid, it could almost convince you it’s ceased to beat altogether. Yet, beneath the surface, it pulses steadily, a silent testament to the calm amidst the storm of his fervent movements upon the dance floor.

You lock eyes with him, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So,” you tease, your voice barely a whisper, “are you as flexible in bed as you are on the dance floor?”

He licks his lips once more, a subtle gesture that sends a jolt of anticipation coursing through you. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of something primal, something dangerously alluring flickering in the depths of his eyes. But before you can grasp it fully, it vanishes like a wisp of smoke, leaving you both captivated and curious.

His laughter spills forth, rich and raspy, a symphony that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze. His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens, transforming his face into a captivating portrait of mischief and allure. Leaning in close, his breath dances tantalizingly against your ear, each word a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “Take me to your place,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive promise, “and you’ll find out.”

Your mind reels as a torrent of thoughts flood your senses.

Fuck. Is he for real?

Is this happening? Is he serious?

Pausing for a heartbeat, you draw back slightly, your gaze sweeping over him as you search for any hint of deceit or jest. The intensity of the moment demands clarity, and you refuse to be swept away without knowing if his words hold genuine intent or mere flirtatious banter.

“You heard correctly, darling. If you take me home, can I taste you?” His question hangs in the air, his eyes betraying an innocence that sharply contrasts with the sinful allure of his voice, each word dripping with a seductive promise that sets your pulse racing.

You swallow, hard, a surge of desire mingling with a tinge of apprehension as his words ignite a primal response within you. Your body betrays you, slick with anticipation, a physical manifestation of your yearning for the dangerous allure he exudes. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself drawn to the danger like a moth to a flame, craving the exhilarating thrill of the unknown that he represents.

“Yes,” you moan, unable to resist the primal urge coursing through you, as you press your hips into his, igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the air, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him.

With every passing moment, it feels like the world around you is spinning out of control, but amidst the chaos, one thing remains crystal clear: the overwhelming desire pulsating between you and him. Driven by an insatiable hunger, you seize his hand and lead him back to the booth where you and Hana were previously seated, your heart pounding with the anticipation of what’s to come.

As you approach the booth, the scene unfolds before you—Hana seated on a stranger’s lap, their lips locked in a passionate embrace. With a mixture of amusement and urgency, you gently tap her shoulder, disrupting the fervent kiss as you insert yourself back into the moment.

Hana’s face lights up as she turns to greet you, her smile infectious and her laughter filling the air with vibrant energy. “Leaving already?” She exclaims, her voice buoyant with excitement. “Enjoy yourselves!” With a carefree wave and a raucous cheer, she dives back into her passionate exchange, leaving you to embark on your own adventure.

With a sense of trust and understanding between you and Hana, you leave the club, confident that she can handle herself. However, you both value communication and keeping each other informed of your whereabouts. As you step outside, you swiftly retrieve your phone, shooting her a quick text to let her know that you and Jimin are heading to your place.

His fingers, cool against your skin in contrast to the warmth of the night air, envelop you in a sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. Yet, in this moment, the chill is a welcome contrast to the heat of the anticipation swirling around you.

“I’ve ordered an Uber,” he announces with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with desire, a hunger that mirrors your own. Your response is a throaty moan, an instinctive acknowledgment of the electrifying tension between you.

He draws nearer, his presence overwhelming as he pulls you into the circle of his arms. His lips tease over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation in their wake, before tracing a path to your ear. With a husky whisper that sends shivers cascading down your spine, he confesses, “I really can’t wait to taste you.”

You whimper softly, a mixture of desire and frustration escaping with each breath. The intensity of his desire ignites a fierce longing within you, matching your own fervor for him. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every passing second stretching into an eternity as you yearn for the arrival of the Uber to whisk you away to your place where you can finally satiate the burning desire between you.

As the car pulls up, Jimin graciously holds the door open, a silent invitation into the sanctuary of the backseat. You slide in first, feeling the heat of his presence close behind as he joins you, the space between you shrinking until you’re sitting intimately close, every breath shared in the electric anticipation of what's to come.

You relay your address to the Uber driver, the words tumbling from your lips with a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of your heart. With each passing moment, you draw closer to the sanctuary of your home, to the promise of Jimin’s touch enveloping you, surrounding you, until you’re consumed by the fiery desire that burns between you.

Jimin’s lips glisten with a subtle sheen as he licks them, a tantalizing gesture that sets your senses ablaze. His touch, cool against the warmth of your skin, sends a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine as his fingers find purchase on your thigh. With your dress hitched up slightly, you can’t help but tense at the sensation, every nerve alive with the electric current of his touch.

You bite down on your lip, a surge of anticipation coursing through you as his fingers inch closer and closer to your core. Your body responds with an undeniable urgency, your arousal evident in the way your pussy clenches and glistens with desire. Every fiber of your being screams with need, your craving for him reaching a fever pitch. With his fingers poised just shy of their destination, his gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

“Can I?” He murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite down on your lip with a fervor that borders on desperation, the taste of copper flooding your senses as you draw blood. With a sharp inhale, you part your thighs, offering him unrestricted access to the throbbing ache between them, your drenched cunt aching to be touched, to be claimed by him.

His fingers remain still, a maddening contrast to the raging desire coursing through you, and frustration begins to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. In a desperate attempt to incite movement, you roll your hips, a silent plea for his touch to ignite the fire within you. Instead, his response is unexpected, his grip on your thigh tightening with a roughness that sends a jolt of electricity racing through you.

“Use your words, pretty.”

His gaze is penetrating, holding you in a vice grip of intensity that leaves you breathless and trembling. As you feel yourself drowning in the depth of his eyes, a desperate plea escapes your lips in a whispered whimper, “Please.”

You part your legs wider, a silent invitation for him to delve deeper into the intoxicating depths of your desire. In response, he surges forward, capturing your lips with his own in a searing kiss that ignites a fiery passion between you. His lips, impossibly soft and pillowy, leave you yearning for more even as they reluctantly part from yours. As his hand finally descends to your bare pussy, stroking your exposed clit with deliberate intent, his words hang in the air like a taunt, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief that leaves you trembling with anticipation.

You chuckle, a bold and bratty streak emerging within you as you revel in the delicious tension between you. “I’m not,” you reply, your voice laced with a playful defiance that only serves to fuel the fire between you.

He returns to kissing you with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, the heat of his lips melding with yours in a passionate dance of desire. Each kiss is a tantalizing blend of heat and moisture, igniting a primal hunger within you. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their exploration of your core, teasing you with light strokes that send waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, a strangled moan escapes your lips, echoing the depth of your pleasure. As your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the stern gaze of the Uber driver reflected in the rearview mirror. Without a word spoken, his disapproving stare speaks volumes, conveying his unspoken demand with chilling clarity, leaving you both startled and exhilarated by the illicit thrill of being caught in the act.

You reluctantly pull away from Jimin’s embrace, your breath ragged and labored, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you address both him and the Uber driver. “Sorry,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of apology and urgency lacing your words. With a silent gesture to Jimin, you convey the unspoken agreement to restrain yourselves until you reach the privacy of your own home, the anticipation of what's to come only adding to the charged atmosphere between you.

Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder, seeking solace in his warmth, your hand finding its place on his thigh, tantalizingly close to the growing bulge in his pants.

The car ride feels like an eternity, every passing moment tinged with the tension of anticipation and the weight of the Uber driver’s disapproving gaze in the rearview mirror. As the vehicle finally comes to a halt in front of your apartment building, you’re met once again with the stern glare of the driver, a silent reminder of the boundaries you’ve overstepped. With a contrite nod, you silently acknowledge his unspoken reprimand, eager to escape the confines of the car and indulge in the privacy of your own space.

Jimin shadows your every move as you lead the way to the elevator, his presence a palpable force at your back. With a silent determination, you press the buttons, the soft chime signaling the arrival of the elevator. Stepping inside, the silence between you hangs heavy, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. As you press the button for the 7th floor, the doors begin to slide shut, sealing you in. Before you can react, Jimin’s hands are on you, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall with a force that steals your breath away.

His lips capture yours in a searing kiss, igniting a blaze of desire that consumes you both. As his tongue seeks entrance, you part your lips willingly, inviting him into a sensual dance of intertwining desires. Together, your tongues swirl and dance in a passionate embrace, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through every fiber of your being.

A low, guttural moan escapes your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as waves of heat and need cascade through your body. Every touch, every sensation leaves you burning with desire, your body aching for more of him, yearning to be consumed by the fire of his touch.

His roughness only fuels the fire burning within you, each forceful movement igniting a primal hunger that drives you wild with desire. The sensation of being pressed against the elevator wall sends shivers of excitement coursing through your body, intensifying the urgent need building between you. Unable to resist the intoxicating pull, you grind your core against his, the friction sending sparks flying and eliciting a guttural groan of pleasure from him, further fueling the fiery passion enveloping you both.

With a sudden ding, the elevator doors slide open, signaling your arrival at your floor with a jolt of anticipation.

A thin strand of saliva lingers, a tangible link between you and Jimin as you reluctantly part from his plush lips. The intensity of your kiss leaves you both breathless, panting heavily as if you’ve exerted yourselves far more than you actually have.

With a sense of urgency, you dart out of the elevator, tugging him along in your wake, each step quickened by the feverish anticipation coursing through your veins. As you approach your door, your movements become frantic, fingers fumbling in your purse in search of the keys, while his hands boldly explore the curves of your ass, fingers gripping with a hunger that mirrors your own.

A shiver of raw desire courses through you, electrifying every nerve as the keys slip from your trembling fingers. With a shaky breath, you bend down to retrieve them, the movement pressing your ass tantalizingly against his hardened dick, sending a jolt of anticipation surging through both of you.

A deep, primal growl escapes him, a guttural symphony of desire as you press your body against his, grinding against his throbbing cock with a fervor that leaves you both breathless. Finally seizing the keys, you straighten up, the charged silence between you, signaling the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable night.

Before slipping the keys into the lock, you cast a teasing glance over your shoulder, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you drink in the sight of him. His eyes are dark pools of desire, wide and unblinking, reflecting a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. In that moment, you recognize the potent combination of lust and danger lurking within him, a heady concoction that only serves to heighten the intensity of your desire.

As you turn the key in the lock, the door swings open, but before you can even react, Jimin’s strength propels you forward, pressing you firmly against it. With a forceful urgency, he shoves you against the wall inside, your back meeting it with a thud, his movements swift as he swiftly closes and locks the door behind him. Keys tumble from your grasp once more, but in the heat of the moment, their clatter goes unnoticed. His lips find yours again in a searing kiss, a low growl rumbling from deep within him as he hungrily seeks to devour you, his desire palpable and insatiable.

“I want you so bad, please tell me I can have you,” he pants between feverish kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he pleads for permission, his desire echoing in every word. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his passion, you respond with a soft moan, your head nodding in silent affirmation, giving yourself over completely to the irresistible pull of his longing.

In a sudden rush of boldness, you recall his desire for vocal affirmation, and with a newfound confidence, you meet his gaze head-on. “I want you too,” you declare, your voice laced with a breathless urgency. “I want to suck your dick,” you continue, your words dripping with a raw desire that sets your pulse racing.

A deep, primal groan escapes him, reverberating through your shared kiss, as he breaks away just long enough to deliver his fervent response. “No,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to taste you,” he declares, his words a promise of untold pleasures yet to come.

With a commanding presence, he presses his body against yours, pinning you firmly to the wall as his lips hover tantalizingly close to your neck, poised over your throbbing pulse point. In a surge of passion, he dives in, his kisses and licks igniting a fervent blaze of desire that leaves you gasping for air, each grunt and growl a primal symphony of pleasure echoing through the heated embrace.

His hands roam hungrily over your hips, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive urgency that sends shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, your own hands, rendered momentarily powerless by the overwhelming intensity of his touch, hang limply at your sides, unable to resist his commanding hold.

One of his thighs effortlessly slots between yours, pressing intimately against your core and sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. The friction ignites a primal response, coaxing a wanton moan to escape your lips, its echoes reverberating through the otherwise quiet hallway of your apartment.

As your brain snaps back to attention, your hands instinctively find their way to his hips, tracing the lines of his body with a newfound sense of purpose. With a boldness born of desire, you seek out his hardened dick, stroking him through the fabric of his pants with a firm yet teasing touch. His response is immediate and intense, a guttural moan escaping his lips and mingling with the heat of your kiss.

Your touch elicits a symphony of sweet, needy noises from him, each sound fueling the fire of your desire until you notice a subtle shift in his gaze. In that moment, something snaps within him, a primal instinct unleashed as his eyes darken with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze.

With a sudden, electrifying intensity, one of his hands ascends to your neck, his fingers curling possessively around it as he begins to exert pressure, cutting off your air supply.

The sensation of oxygen deprivation sends a rush of lightheaded euphoria coursing through you, mingling with the overwhelming arousal that pulses relentlessly through your veins. In that moment, every nerve in your body ignites with a primal hunger, the boundary between pleasure and pain blurring into a tantalizing blur of ecstasy.

With an irresistible force, he withdraws slightly, his fingers maintaining their tight grip around your neck, a gesture of rough dominance that sets your senses ablaze with anticipation. Despite the intensity of his touch, there’s a calculated restraint in his actions, a deliberate balance between aggression and control that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. As you meet his gaze, you’re ensnared by the dark depths of his eyes, which shimmer with a potent combination of desire, danger, and an unspoken promise of untold pleasures yet to come. The sensation has your stomach knotting with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Behave,” he hisses, his words a menacing command that sends a shiver down your spine as you struggle for precious air, denied by his unyielding grip. With a wicked smirk, he releases his hold on your throat, and you stagger, your body nearly buckling beneath the weight of the intensity that courses through you, threatening to send you crumbling to the floor in a dizzying haze of desire and submission.

Gasping for air, your chest heaves with the effort as you cough, the sensation of your lungs burning only fueling your resolve. With determination shining bright in your eyes, you meet his gaze head-on. “No,” you assert, your voice trembling with defiance yet laced with an undeniable sense of strength and conviction.

With a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, you lick them in anticipation before lowering yourself gracefully to the floor, your gaze locked on his with an unspoken challenge. Swift and determined, your fingers deftly find the button of his sleek black leather pants, skillfully undoing them before defying gravity and pulling them down along with his boxers, exposing him fully to your hungry gaze.

As his cock springs free, a resounding thud fills the room as it hits his stomach, the sound echoing off the walls with a palpable intensity. Thick and girthy, it stands proudly before you. While he may not boast the longest length you’ve encountered, you recognize that true pleasure lies not in size alone, but in the mastery of technique and the depth of connection shared between two bodies.

Anticipation courses through you like a current as you contemplate the possibilities of his prowess, a hunger igniting within you at the thought of experiencing his mastery firsthand. His cock, a work of art in its own right, boasts a rosy head glistening with a single droplet of precum, a tantalizing preview of the delights to come. With a confident grip, you encircle it with your hand, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from his lips as you begin to explore the contours of his dick.

With innocent doe eyes, you gaze up at him, lashes fluttering like the delicate wings of a butterfly, as you teasingly dart out your tongue to caress the glistening head of his cock. Each lick is a deliberate stroke of temptation, your movements reminiscent of savoring an ice cream cone on a scorching summer day, the taste of him a delectable treat to be savored. And all the while, your eyes remain locked with his, a silent challenge passing between you.

“You’re misbehaving,” he pants, his voice laced with a mixture of warning and desire, yet his gaze softens with an unmistakable tenderness that belies any true threat. But the allure of pushing his boundaries further is too intoxicating to resist, so you continue your ministrations with a defiant smirk, relishing in the delicious tension that crackles between you.

“But you like it, don’t you?” You tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you bat your eyes at him once more. Your hand continues its rhythmic stroking, each movement eliciting a fervent pant of pleasure from him, as the lines between restraint and abandon blur in the heat of the moment.

“I can tell,” you purr, a mischievous smirk dancing upon your lips as you lean in to kiss the head of his cock. With tantalizing finesse, your tongue traces along his slit, teasingly exploring every contour and eliciting a shiver of pleasure that courses through him like wildfire.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice thick with desire as his body quivers under your touch, every sensation echoing with raw intensity. And oh, how you revel in it, the sheer power of your influence over him igniting a fire within you that burns with insatiable passion.

“Spit on my tongue,” you command, your voice a sultry whisper as you eagerly present your tongue before him, a bold invitation that speaks volumes of your desire. The air crackles with anticipation as you wait for his response, every moment pregnant with the promise of ecstasy.

He regards you with a questioning gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re a nasty one, aren’t you?” He muses, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

“Yes. I’m nasty,” you assert, your voice dripping with unabashed confidence as you hold his gaze, unyielding in your demand. “Now spit in my mouth,” with an enticing flicker of your tongue, you beckon him to fulfill your desire, every nerve alive with anticipation for the illicit thrill that awaits.

Immediately complying, he spits on your awaiting tongue, a primal act of submission and passion that ignites a fiery intensity between you. With a seductive smile playing on your lips, you tease him with a playful sway of your hips before taking his dick deep into your mouth in one smooth motion.

You start with a deliberate rhythm, drawing him in with deliberate slowness that belies the fervent desire burning within you. Each inch of him fills your mouth, your throat accommodating his cock as you battle your own limits, a testament to your unwavering dedication to his pleasure. His fingers intertwine with your hair, a gentle yet commanding hold that guides and encourages you to unleash the full force of your prowess.

“Oh fuck,” he rasps, his voice trembling with raw desire as you envelop him with your mouth, every movement sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

You mumble around his cock, the vibrations sending a symphony of pleasure through his body, each note echoing with the intensity of your desire.

He begins to fuck into your warm mouth with urgency, his thrusts gaining momentum with each slide, his grunts coming out in ragged breaths, sounding like he’s thoroughly out of breath.

“You’re doing so good, such a good girl,” he pants, his gaze fixated on you, your mouth enveloping him completely. The sight alone drives him wild, his arousal escalating as he feels his dick twitching inside your warm, welcoming mouth.

One of his hands grabs your cheek and pushes you further into him, your nose grazing against his dark brown pubic hair, leaving you gasping for air as you feel yourself choking on his dick.

“That’s what you get for misbehaving,” he grunts, a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his dick.

You gasp desperately for air, tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the saliva cascading from your lips.

Amidst your desperate panting, his chuckle pierces the air, laden with a menacing edge. Yet, fueled by your own defiance, you can’t resist the urge to unleash the brat within. With newfound fervor, you envelop him once more, your mouth moving in a wild, frenzied rhythm, eager to reclaim your dominance.

His hands grip your hair once more, tugging gently, an urgent plea in his touch. “I don’t want to come yet,” he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint and desire, a silent request for restraint echoed in his words.

Determined, you persist with fervor, each suction more insistent than the last, as if your very existence hinges on the rhythm of your movements. Sensing his impending release, his body becomes a symphony of tension and release, an exquisite dance to the crescendo of pleasure. Yet you press on, his hands now motionless in your hair, surrendering to the inevitable ecstasy building within him.

You moan softly, the vibration adding to the intensity of the moment, your cheeks hollowing as you draw him in, each breath drawn through your nose a desperate echo of your own need. Glancing up at him, you’re met with eyes ablaze, a visage of pure desire and disarray, his appearance a testament to the pleasure that courses through his veins, leaving him utterly ravished.

You press yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper until it meets the resistance of your throat. His fingers tighten around your hair, a sensation that ignites a thrilling burn along your scalp, a welcomed discomfort that fuels your desire. With a frustrated hiss, he releases into your waiting mouth, warm liquid cascading down your throat. You fight the urge to gag, focusing on steady breaths through your nose, grounding yourself in the moment as he reaches the peak of ecstasy.

He gasps, his breath ragged, a testament to his spent state as you continue to coax out every last tremor of pleasure. He lets out a whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity, prompting you to release his dick with a satisfying pop, a glistening string of saliva bridging the connection between you once more.

“You little minx,” he pants, playfully slapping your cheek as a smirk dances on his lips, his eyes ablaze with mischief, like a wildfire of desire.

“I tried so hard not to come, but I guess you had other plans,” he chuckles, his gaze fixed on you as you lick your lips teasingly, each movement a silent invitation for more mischief.

“Yeah, the night is still young,” you declare, rising to your feet with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Without hesitation, you extend your tongue once more, and this time, Jimin eagerly spits into your waiting mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“You’re so nasty,” he smirks, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, as if he’s eager to devour every inch of your being.

When you finally pull apart, you can’t help but chuckle softly. “And you love every bit of it,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

He clearly revels in it, evident as he steps back, shedding his pants and boxers until they form a pool at his feet. Even his shoes aren’t spared, kicked off swiftly as he stands there, completely bare from the waist down.

Despite his softened dick, he remains an arresting sight, captivating and dangerous in his nakedness, every contour and line a testament to his allure.

With effortless strength, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you through your apartment, a smirk playing on his lips. “Bedroom?” He suggests, his voice laced with anticipation.

You chuckle softly, nodding towards your right, and with a casual tap of his foot, he swings the bedroom door open. A rush of heat floods through you, your arousal evident as you feel the slick warmth between your legs, undoubtedly coating him.

He opts not to flip the switch, allowing the gentle glow from the kitchen to filter into your bedroom, casting a tantalizing veil of shadows. With a playful yet confident gesture, he tosses you onto the bed, eliciting a spontaneous burst of laughter from you, reminiscent of a lovestruck fool lost in the feelings of her crush.

You’re well aware that catching feelings wasn’t part of the plan, that this was meant to be a fleeting encounter. Yet, as the intensity of the moment swells around you, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to every sensation, every touch, every whispered word shared between you. Despite your best efforts to guard your heart, you can’t help but revel in the dizzying whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, silently acknowledging that you’re utterly captivated by every moment spent in his company.

He lingers above you, a tantalizing pause that leaves anticipation crackling in the air. Then, with a deliberate yet primal grace, he sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands firmly clasping your ankles as he draws you irresistibly closer to the edge.

With a primal hunger, he yanks your scanty dress up to your waist, a guttural growl escaping his lips as his gaze locks onto your shimmering, needy pussy, the raw desire in his eyes igniting a blazing fire within you.

“Fuck. You’re practically a waterfall down there,” he remarks, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips as he surveys your drenched arousal.

You spread your legs invitingly, gazing down your body at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, have a taste,” you challenge, your voice dripping with anticipation.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs and placing them over his shoulders. His mouth descends to your aching core, lips and tongue poised to give you the attention you crave.

His plush tongue meets your clit first, eliciting a frustrated moan from your lips. He sucks with the hunger of a starved man, savoring your taste. Moving down, he uses his fingers to spread your folds, allowing him to dip his tongue inside your throbbing entrance.

You pant, clenching around his probing tongue, every nerve alight with bliss, feeling as though you’ve been transported to heaven.

His tongue licks and laps at your sensitive skin, each stroke sending shivers through your trembling body. The need building inside you is almost unbearable—you crave so much more.

For a moment, his tongue plunges into your cunt, teasing and stimulating your hole. Growing impatient, your hands dart down to grip his blonde locks, fingers clenching tightly as you try to urge him on, desperate for more of his relentless attention.

He seems to get the hint, moving up to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you release a soft scream.

Your body clenches, fingers gripping his hair tighter as a frustrated grunt escapes your lips.

The room fills with slurping noises, driving your mind into a frenzy of pleasure.

Suddenly, his fingers prod at your entrance, and you clench in anticipation. God, you want it—you want his fingers so bad. Honestly, you crave a lot more than just his fingers.

He pushes in one finger at first, and your breath hitches. Your walls clench around the single digit, and it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into his hand and face, desperate for more.

Fuck, how is he so skilled with both his hands and mouth? His suction on your clit is relentless, alternating between perfect suction and expertly flattening his tongue, sending shivers down your spine as he strokes your bundle of nerves from side to side.

As a second finger joins the first in your tight hole, you gasp at the delicious stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and Jimin’s girthy size alone suggests you’ll need ample preparation. Despite already feeling dripping with anticipation, you know the importance of proper preparation to avoid any uncomfortable burns from the stretch.

With a suction-like force around your clit, he sends you reeling, seeing stars with each electrifying sensation. His face withdraws from your pussy, yet his fingers remain firmly embedded within you, a tantalizing promise of what’s to come.

His face gleams with your essence. His eyes, deep as obsidian, flicker with desire, his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he licks them hungrily. “Think you’re ready for a third finger?”

You moan unabashedly as his fingers find that sweet spot within, every touch igniting a cascade of sensations that render you pliant. Biting your lip to stifle the cries of pleasure, you nod eagerly. “Yes,” you pant, your voice a fervent plea, “please, get me ready for your cock.”

A triumphant smirk dances on his lips as he responds with a pleased grunt, effortlessly sliding in a third finger. The stretch is undeniable, prompting you to draw in a deep breath of air to accommodate the delicious fullness. Though there’s no burning sensation, your body pulses with the intensity of your arousal, each sensation amplified by your slickness.

“You like it?” His voice, a sultry whisper, sends shivers down your spine as he inquires, his pace quickening with each determined thrust of his three fingers inside you. Your response is immediate, a chorus of moans escaping your lips in tandem with his relentless motion.

“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the intensity of his touch reverberate through every fiber of your being. Heat pools at your core, beads of sweat glistening along your hairline, as your body surrenders to the overwhelming waves of pleasure washing over you.

“Just wait until I fill you with my cock,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, his eyes smoldering with desire. “I want to see you fall apart on it. God, you’re so pretty,” he adds, his words a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he returns to your pussy, trailing a teasing lick from his fingers buried inside you up to your throbbing clit, igniting a fire of longing within you.

“Fuck, Jimin. Please,” you pant, your voice thick with need. Every nerve in your body aches for his touch, craving the electrifying sensation of his tongue against your skin once more. You can sense the impending arrival of an orgasm, its tantalizing tendrils teasing at the edges of your consciousness, and you yearn for him to push you over the edge, to obliterate every last shred of restraint until you’re consumed by ecstasy.

“Please what?” He taunts again, his tongue teasingly tracing delicate patterns over your throbbing clit. The sensation sends waves of frustration coursing through you, igniting a fierce longing for more of his touch. You can feel the tension building within you, a potent mix of desire and impatience, as you yearn for his tongue to remain there indefinitely, granting you the blissful release you crave.

“Please make me come already!” You pant in exasperation, your fingers digging into the sheets beside your hips, a desperate plea echoing in the heated air between you.

With a shit-eating smirk, he dives back down, his mouth latching onto your clit with aggressive fervor. His relentless licking sends bolts of electricity through your body, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their relentless thrusting inside you, creating a symphony of pleasure that promises to tip you over the brink of ecstasy any moment now.

As his teeth tug at your clit, a surge of electricity shoots through your body, igniting every nerve ending with anticipation. The knot in your stomach tightens with each tantalizing pull, signaling the imminent unraveling of your senses.

“Yes. Fuck. I’m gonna come, Jimin-ah! Fuck, you’re so good,” the words tumble from your lips in a breathless rush, punctuated by the primal rhythm of your panting. Your body thrashes with unrestrained pleasure, every nerve alive with the electric touch of his lips and tongue. In response, Jimin’s hand tightens around your hips, pulling you even further down into his face.

As his tongue presses down on your throbbing clit, his fingers continue their relentless thrusts, driving you wild with their rapid pace. Your muscles tighten involuntarily, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax. It’s right there, teetering on the edge, tantalizingly close as every fiber of your being aches for release.

With your body trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, he withdraws his tongue from your throbbing clit, his face shimmering with your essence. “Do you really think you deserve to come?” His question hangs in the air, a challenge laced with mischief and desire.

Frustration boils within you, your body teetering on the edge of release, craving that sweet release. With a hiss of desperation, you prop yourself up on your arms, determined to meet his gaze. “I’ll be a good girl,” you plead, your voice a whispered promise laden with need. “I’ll behave. Just let me... please, let me come.”

His tongue returns to your throbbing clit with a ferocity that reignites every nerve ending, driving you to the precipice of ecstasy faster than thought itself. Your breath catches in your throat, each ragged moan echoing the crescendo building within you. As your body tenses with anticipation, you feel the inevitable release cresting like a tidal wave, crashing over you in blissful waves. Tremors ripple through your body, held securely in his grasp, as he maintains his relentless assault of pleasure, ensuring your euphoria knows no bounds.

As the waves of ecstasy continue to crash over you, he remains steadfast in his ministrations, guiding you through the tempest of pleasure. Yet, as the intensity peaks, reaching heights almost unbearable, you signal your overwhelming sensation by grasping his hair once more, a silent plea for respite amidst the storm of sensation.

His fingers retreat, and a pang of longing fills the void they leave behind, craving the sensation of being filled with his touch once more. His gaze meets yours, ablaze with desire and urgency, mirroring the yearning that courses through your own veins.

“Was it good?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at you, observing the subtle flush painting your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes,” you pant, your voice husky with desire, feeling thoroughly ravished. Yet, beneath the lingering sensations, anticipation simmers, an eager yearning for him to take you with his cock, to stretch you, to fill you completely with his intoxicating presence.

He comes up to hover over you, his presence intense as he locks eyes with you. “You know what my plan is?” He murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyebrow raises in curiosity, your heart beating a little faster as you wait for his next move, uncertain yet intrigued.

“I want to ruin you so deeply that every touch, every kiss, every moment with another will only remind you of me,” he whispers huskily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your body responds to his words, your pussy clenching around emptiness at his crude words.

“You’ve already achieved that, Jimin. No other man could ever measure up to the fire you ignite within me,” you confess, your voice laden with desire and admiration, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.

Your gaze, undoubtedly dazed and intoxicated with lust, fixes on him with an urgency that speaks volumes. “Jimin,” you implore, your fingers grasping at his arms, “I need you inside me. Right now. Please fuck me.”

He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes as he bites his lip in contemplation. “Fuck,” he breathes, desire smoldering in his gaze. “I want to fuck you. Badly. But I don’t have condoms. Do you or are you okay without that?”

You hold his gaze, your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you. “I don’t have any condoms either,” you admit, your eyes searching his for reassurance. “But I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?” Your breath steadies, anticipation threading through your words.

His voice carries a confident assurance, yet there’s a vulnerability in his eyes as he meets yours. “Yeah, I’m clean,” he confirms, his tone firm, but tinged with a hint of vulnerability, as if silently seeking your trust.

“Then fuck me already,” you say, a bashful smile playing on your lips, your eyes locked with his, daring him to make the next move.

Jimin sits up, shedding his harness like shedding inhibitions, unbuttoning his white shirt with a flourish and tossing it carelessly to the floor. Now completely naked, he embodies the essence of a god, his presence both captivating and dangerous. Every line of his form speaks of strength and sin, his lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light.

His touch ignites a trail of electricity along your skin as his fingers trace the curve of your sides. With a swift motion, he seizes the fabric of your dress, lifting it over your face, and then, in one fluid movement, he strips it away, revealing your body completely to his hungry gaze.

“No bra?”

With a mischievous chuckle, you shoot him a playful wink, a silent invitation dancing in your eyes.

“You really are a wicked little thing. Were you planning to seduce someone tonight?” His smirk deepens as his gaze lingers on your exposed breasts. His hands, cool against your skin, find their way to your chest, cupping them firmly, coaxing your nipples into stiff peaks within seconds.

He chuckles, his fingers dancing lightly over your skin, teasing and tempting you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as anticipation courses through your veins.

“No, I just revel in the freedom of my body. Restrictions aren’t my thing. Encountering you, though, was a delightful surprise,” you chuckle, feeling his fingertips tracing patterns over your nipples, each touch sending delicious shivers cascading down your spine.

His fingers encircle both of your nipples, pinching them just so, and your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as you pant for breath.

He guides you further up the bed, positioning your entire body for his pleasure. As he settles between your legs, his fingertips dance along your thighs, each touch sending electric waves of anticipation through your body, leaving you trembling in anticipation.

His voice, a low rumble, breaks through the charged air, his eyes seeking confirmation before he delves deeper into the intimacy between you two. “Are you ready?” He inquires, his gaze locking with yours, seeking not just consent, but a shared desire to plunge into the depths of pleasure together.

You respond with an urgent plea, your voice laden with need as you offer yourself fully to him. “Yes. Put your dick in me now,” you moan, your legs parting eagerly, beckoning him to claim you as your desire ignites the air around you.

With an air of command, he positions you, pulling your thighs onto his sides, his posture exuding dominance. As he rises to a sitting position, his dick completely hard again, standing tall and unyielding, eager to claim you once.

“You’re so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs, his hand finding his cock, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest.

“Fuck me, please,” you rasp, the urgency in your voice palpable. Begging isn’t your usual style, but right now, you can’t help it. You need him inside you, filling every inch of you.

As he aligns his dick with your eager entrance, a primal urgency fills the air. The anticipation builds with each teasing prod against your folds, a delicious tension mounting between you. With a low grunt, he starts to push into you, a slow and deliberate motion that sets your senses ablaze, every inch of him awakening a craving you never knew existed.

“Fucking hell, you are tight!” He pants, the raw intensity of his voice echoing the primal desire between you. With a slick ease, he slides inside, your wetness enveloping him like a long-awaited embrace, each inch stirring a tempest of pleasure that threatens to consume you both.

“Fuck. You’re so thick! It feels so good,” you moan, your voice a symphony of desire as he fills you completely. With him buried deep within, he pauses, his gaze intense and heated, a testament to the raw hunger pulsating between you, his sweat-slicked skin glistening in the dim light.

The way he stretches you is nothing short of incredible, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. Your hands grasp onto his arms, seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of pleasure, forging a connection to him as he pushes you to the brink of ecstasy.

Then, he begins to move, drawing out slowly only to thrust back in with an irresistible force. Your gasp of pleasure is swallowed by the room as he establishes a rapid rhythm, plunging into you with a relentless urgency.

The bed jolts against the wall, the sound echoing through the room, and you know your neighbors will hear, but you couldn’t care less. You’re being thoroughly ravished, lost in the primal intensity of it all. The sheer ecstasy of the moment eclipses any concern for discretion.

He presses his weight into you, drawing you closer in an embrace that feels almost possessive. In a sudden rush of intimacy, he leans down to meet your lips, igniting a fiery kiss that seems to consume you both. As his body melds with yours, his every movement synchronized with the rhythmic pulse of his thrusts, you feel an electric connection unlike anything you've experienced before.

With tantalizing slowness, he trails kisses along your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. His lips wander to your jawline, peppering it with delicate kisses before descending to the curve of your throat. There, he lingers, his mouth exploring every inch, igniting a primal desire that courses through your veins. Gradually, he moves downward, his lips now caressing your breasts with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.

His tongue dances sensually around your hardened nipple, sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. As his skilled hand teases and strokes the other, you arch into his touch, a symphony of sensations unraveling within you. With each gentle suck, you find yourself uttering his name in a breathless plea, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

The sensation is intoxicating, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and desire that threatens to consume every inch of your being.

His closeness envelops you, his intoxicating scent mingling with yours, creating an intoxicating blend of desire. With each meeting of your hips, his warmth and the firmness of his cock hitting your sweet spot send ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting yet another primal moan from your lips.

“Jimin!” You moan, your hands instinctively flying up to his hair, fingers entwining in the soft strands as he devours your nipple, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, igniting a dazzling array of stars behind your closed eyelids.

He hums and chuckles around your breasts, the vibrations sending delightful shivers down your spine, his enjoyment evident in the way he savors every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

Then, he shifts his mouth over to the other nipple, the suction intense and demanding, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body. Simultaneously, his hand finds the other nipple, tugging at it with a tantalizing mix of firmness and gentleness.

His thrusts are relentless, driving deep into you with an intensity that leaves you reeling, each plunge sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s so overwhelming, you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

With a soft pop, Jimin releases your nipple, his lips trailing a path of fire as he moves back up to your neck, planting gentle kisses that send shivers down your spine.

You pull him tighter into your embrace, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you confess, “Shit. I’m so close.” The urgency in your voice mirrors the pounding of your heart, each beat echoing the relentless rhythm of your desire.

His voice, thick with desire, resonates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he urges, “Come on my cock. I wanna feel you more.”

The raw, primal tone of his words sends a jolt of electricity through you, stirring an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. Every filthy utterance from his lips molds your insides like soft clay, leaving you trembling with an insatiable hunger for more.

His touch ignites a wildfire of sensation, each pinch and twist of your hardened peaks sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body again. You surrender to the delicious torment, your back arching instinctively as uninhibited moans escape your lips, a symphony of desire echoing through the room.

“Cream my dick, I know you can do it,” his words, a potent blend of desire and command, fuel your fervor even more. With each authoritative utterance, your need intensifies, the primal rhythm of his thrusts, his cock hitting heavenly places inside. His voice, a dark symphony of dominance, stirs something primal within you, urging you to surrender completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

With a tantalizing flick of his fingers as he pinches your nipple again, igniting a rush of sensation through your body, and a thrust that delves deeper than before, your senses blur, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of pleasure. As his dick plunges into you, reaching depths that send shockwaves of ecstasy through your core, you’re transported to the brink of euphoria. On the tender spot of your neck, he sucks a hickey there. With a primal cry that echoes through the room, you surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, releasing your essence onto his throbbing cock.

When your walls tighten around him, a low growl of pleasure escapes his lips, punctuating the intensity of the moment. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he gasps, his voice laced with ecstasy. As the pressure builds within him, he can feel the impending release drawing near. “I’m gonna come soon too,” he confesses, the urgency in his tone mirroring the electric tension between you.

You pant, your chest heaving as you slowly descend from the peak of your ecstasy. Every breath feels like a blessing, leaving you in a state of serene satisfaction. Jimin’s touch has shifted, his fingers tracing gentle paths along your sides, while his hips move against yours with a newfound tenderness, each roll diving into you in a more sensual manner.

His thrusts delve even deeper, each movement driving him to the core of your being, sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your body. The rhythmic collision of his hips against yours, accompanied by the tantalizing impact of his balls against your pussy, ignites a fire within you, consuming you with an insatiable hunger for more.

He hisses, a primal sound escaping his lips, as you feel the telltale twitch of his cock deep inside you, signaling his imminent release. His breath quickens, each exhale a symphony of urgency, while his once graceful movements give way to a primal frenzy. With a feverish intensity, he plunges into you, each thrust a fervent pursuit of his climax.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, a symphony of pleasure and need in your voice, struggling to maintain your composure as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a wildfire of sensation within you. Despite the intensity, or perhaps because of it, you find yourself surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, relishing every moment of his powerful onslaught.

“Shit. I’m losing control. I—, I can’t,” he begins to mumble, his voice strained with an unexpected vulnerability, and you observe a fleeting, pained expression flicker across his face.

You reach out for him, your hands cradling his face with a tender urgency. “Don’t be afraid,” you murmur, your voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of sensations. “Just let go. Come inside me and fill me up,” you whisper, your words a gentle invitation laced with a primal hunger that echoes the rhythm of your entwined bodies.

His gaze darkens, a tempest swirling in those depths, as if wrestling with unseen forces. With a guttural grunt, he appears on the verge of surrender, yet something holds him back, an inner conflict etched across his features like a turbulent battle playing out before your eyes.

With a few final, desperate thrusts, he succumbs, his release flooding into your welcoming depths, a primal grunt escaping his lips as he fills you with his heated essence, a potent mixture of ecstasy and raw desire intertwining in the heat of the moment.

Ecstasy floods your senses as you revel in the sensation of being completely filled, every nerve ending electrified with pleasure. Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the intense ecstasy coursing through your veins.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” his voice, filled with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, pants out an apology, his breaths ragged and heavy. It’s a symphony of emotions, the frustration of losing control mingling with the sheer bliss of the moment.

Confused by his apology, you chuckle softly, your hands finding solace in tracing patterns on his back, a silent reassurance amidst the continued rhythm of his movements within you.

His lips tenderly graze your neck, igniting a playful giggle within you. As his affection turns fervent, you relish in the sensation of him marking you, a primal instinct you love. Yet, the playful nip lingers longer, teeth sinking deeper than expected, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Your moans escalate, desire fueling your body’s response. But as the dizziness sets in and the need for air becomes desperate, a chilling realization dawns upon you—something is wrong.

Your eyelids flutter shut, a shiver racing down your spine as an icy chill envelops you, sapping away your energy. In the eerie silence that follows, darkness descends, swallowing you whole.

Someone shakes you gently, and you recognize Jimin’s touch. A warm, sticky sensation trails down your neck. Blood? The throb in your neck intensifies, a soreness radiating from the spot. Did he bite you so hard that you passed out?

“Y/N, oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His voice trembles with distress and worry as he gazes down at you, his eyes wide with panic.

“Why?” You ask, your voice slurred and heavy with exhaustion. Every word feels like an effort, and you’re overwhelmed by a bone-deep fatigue.

“I’m— I couldn’t stop,” he sobs, his voice cracking with guilt. You’re utterly baffled, trying to piece together what just happened.

“I should have told you sooner,” he mumbles, tears glistening in his eyes and his lips trembling. He looks like a completely different person from the confident man you met in Magic Shop.

“What’s wrong?” you groan in pain, attempting to move your body, but it refuses to cooperate, leaving you feeling heavy and unresponsive.

“I’m a vampire…” he confesses, his eyes lingering on your naked body, the sight of blood trickling from your neck and staining the white sheets.

“What?” Your eyes snap open, awareness flooding back as you see his tear-streaked face. Your heart aches at the sight, and you instinctively reach out, gently brushing away one of his tears.

“It’s okay. I had a feeling,” you murmur, doing your best to reassure him. When his tear-filled eyes meet yours again, you give him a soft, comforting smile.

“I think I drank too much from you. I’m so sorry. I should have asked,” he stammers, his voice heavy with shame. His eyes drop to the floor, reflecting his internal struggle. You can tell he takes immense pride in his self-control, and losing it tonight is tearing him apart.

“Jimin, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you reassure him, masking your own weakness as you attempt to sit up, your arms trembling slightly beneath you.

“It’s not fine. You passed out,” he grumbles, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, his lips forming a subtle pout.

"Oh. I did?" you ask, a flicker of confusion crossing your face as you piece together the fragments of your memory.

You take your hand up to your neck, fingers trembling slightly as they brush over the tender skin. Examining your palm, you find it smeared with a trace of blood, a stark reminder of the unexpected turn the night has taken. It’s not much though, and you guess the bleeding has almost stopped.

You reach out for him once more, closing the distance between you with a sudden, passionate kiss. The intensity of your embrace catches him off guard, his eyes widening in surprise, his lips yielding to the unexpected fervor of your touch.

When you draw back, your gaze locks onto his, unwavering and filled with a mix of emotions. “It’s still the best and most unforgettable one-night stand ever,” you declare, your words carrying a weight of sincerity and a hint of lingering desire.

He offers you a small smile that swiftly morphs into a mischievous smirk, as if he’s silently challenging you to another round.

“You know, I’m all for making this a regular thing, if you’re up for it. I mean, I don’t mind a little bite here and there. Maybe not to the point of blacking out, but everything before that? Damn, it was fucking hot,” you suggest with a playful wink, your sultry gaze locked with his, a subtle invitation lingering in the air as you moisten your lips.

An exasperated groan escapes him, his fangs emerging, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You extend your hand, tracing his full lips before daringly brushing your fingertips over his sharp fangs, a mixture of curiosity and arousal coursing through you.

Your gaze drifts downwards, finding his glistening dick coated in a mixture of your essence and his, standing proudly. With a seductive nibble on your lower lip, you reach out, your hand finding his throbbing cock, stroking it with deliberate intent, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as pleasure courses through his body.

Teasingly, you inquire, “Ready to go for another round already? Got some superhuman stamina hidden in there?” Your jest is accompanied by an increase in pace, your hand working with newfound fervor, eliciting gasps of pleasure from him as his body responds eagerly to your touch.

In between gasps and needy pants, he admits, “Something like that.”

His voice, dripping with desire, sends shivers down your spine. “I’m ready for more. And you... do you really want this to be a regular thing?” His words punctuate each stroke, his pleasure palpable as he speaks.

“I’ve never found anyone who could keep up with me and my needs like this,” he confesses, his eyes closing intermittently in pure ecstasy.

“Yes, Jimin, me too,” you breathe, your voice husky with desire. “I feel like I’ve finally met my equal. You satisfy me in ways no one ever has. Please.” Your words, a soft plea, dance across his ear, sending shivers down his spine. As you feel him quivering beneath your touch, you know this connection is something truly special.

“Let me ride you,” you suggest with a sultry smile, but you’re not one to wait for permission. With a swift movement, you push him down onto the bed, eliciting a hiss of surprise followed by a deep, rumbling laugh from him. It’s a playful exchange, full of anticipation and eagerness for what’s to come.

“Fuck, I think I might be in love,” he groans, his words punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as you straddle him, aligning yourself with his throbbing cock. With a slow, deliberate movement, you sink down onto him, relishing in the now familiar, exquisite stretch that never fails to send shivers of pleasure down your spine, something you’ll never tire off.

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celestial-dreamscapes · 4 months ago

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Malleus Draconia relationship headcanons

A/N: I love him sm T_T finally actually playing the game so I don't mess up writing anyone too bad 😭 also I use different translations as reference lmao I just go with wtv I like best. Requests are open!!

Word count: 1.9k

-Malleus already has really nice hands and nails, but he doesn't really do anything to maintain them. So whenever you notice his hands feel a bit dry you moisturize them for him and play with his hands a bit while doing it and he loves it

-Kind of along the same lines, he'll let you draw on his hands whenever you're bored (a common occurrence in class) and you always take pictures afterwards

-One day it starts to rain so you pull out your umbrella, and he offers to hold it for you and you get excited thinking it'll be romantic like in those cute manga scenes but no,, it gets caught on one of his horns and you have to try and reach up to remove it. In the end he ends up just holding it over you and saying he doesn't need it to save you both the trouble

-Somehow after all the chaos of removing the umbrella he still manages to make it cute when he holds the umbrella over you and says stuff all concerned about you getting sick since humans get sick so easily

-Speaking of getting sick, he has a general idea of how humans are when they're sick thanks to Silver, but he's still very worried whenever you tell him you're not feeling well :( he'll likely just ask you what you need or usually do when you're sick so that he doesn't end up making you feel worse somehow

-He's aware of the strength difference between you two so he gets even more worried about hurting you because of how delicate humans can be

-He'll definitely cuddle with you if you're feeling alright enough for it, and he reassures you that he's not going to get sick because of you

-After taking care of you while you were sick he's even more conscious of how you're feeling when the weather changes

-He'll let you do literally anything you want with his hair. If you start playing with it he'll just let you do your thing. Same with braiding, putting bows or accessories, he's just happy to spend time with you and he loves how gently you do it

-Though Sebek might say something about you not taking Malleus seriously and hindering his reputation if you do it in the Diasomnia dorm and he sees you, so you usually play around with his hair in your dorm instead

-Malleus mentions sometimes that he wants to come off as less intimidating so people will want to talk to him more and invite him to things, so you suggest getting more casual clothes since it might help people see him as less scary, calm down the intimidating aura a bit and hopefully make him look a bit more approachable

-So you have a cute little shopping date!! He ends up getting you more things than for himself in the end because he really likes picking stuff for you and doing the whole mini fashion show thing!! The employees don't even say anything about you passing the item limit in the dressing room because they're a bit scared of him lmao

-You also pick out some outfits for both of you that have similar vibes or colours that compliment each other (couples that are well dressed together>>) and it's adorable. He carries everything you bought while you both keep looking around

-Cute little ice cream break later on and you share a cone and just relax and enjoy it together 🥺

-You try to catch him up with modern trends to the best of your ability, though it's kind of endearing how clueless he is with some of it. You definitely help him get better at using his phone at the very least so he's not constantly breaking his or yours

-He's not the best texter since he prefers to just go to you if he wants to talk, but he's trying his best

-You also teach him how to take selfies and pictures that aren't super blurry and he mostly takes pictures of you. He's the type to have like 15 things in his camera roll but they're all just you and maybe some cool gargoyles or architecture he wants to show you aw

-Lots of sleepovers at the Ramshackle dorm so you don't have to worry about being interrupted or disturbed for the most part (with the exception of Grim occasionally)

-While cuddling you tend to sort of lie halfway on top of him/on his side, curling up against him while he rubs your back

-Normally cuddle time ends with you falling asleep because of how peaceful it all is, especially compared to the chaos of your daily life. Sometimes he'll tell you stories about back home and his family, other times he'll ask you to tell him stories about your home, and sometimes you both just enjoy the shared silence comfortably

-He's totally the type to just watch you sleep for a bit, admiring you and whatnot and just really appreciating the fact that you're with him

-You wake up at the weirdest times every now and then and panic thinking you're late to class and he tells you you still have time to sleep so you cuddle a bit until you eventually fall asleep. He kisses your forehead gently before drifting off too

-Cuddling while sitting on his lap in bed or on the couch in your dorm he loves how close he is to you and it's so comforting and warm for you

-When it comes to PDA he's kind of conflicted because on one hand he wants to be private and "proper" but on the other he wants to show off a tiny bit that he's with you, so nothing excessive but he'll hold hands with you or give small forehead and cheek kisses here and there

-Sharing your hobbies and seeing if he's interested in any, you try painting, cooking and baking together. He loves how normal it all feels and that you're trying to get him into things you enjoy, it's sort of a reminder that he has someone very precious to him that's not scared of him and he's so happy about it

-Especially at the start of your relationship, he shows a lot of his affection by giving you gifts and you have to kind of reassure him you don't need all that stuff (or that you literally have no space for some of it)

-As the relationship progresses he does continue to give you stuff but it becomes more personal and he realizes he doesn't want to overwhelm you by giving you insanely expensive stuff or like.. family heirlooms so instead he'll settle on getting you stuff your eyes linger on in stores or things you mention, even off-handedly

-One day you're both chilling in his room while you scroll through your phone and you see someone post a heart locket and you start telling him how sweet and romantic of a gift they can be but how hard it is to find good quality ones

-And then not too long after that he shows up to your dorm and tells you to close your eyes and he clasps a heart locket he got you around your neck and you open it and you see that he put a picture of the two of you inside <3

-It was definitely a struggle for him to do the picture thing but he got Lilia's help lmao

-Unfortunately you can't really afford expensive gifts for him so you gift him handmade things instead. You give him a little bracelet you made yourself and a little phone charm to match yours

-Though he's still not great with phones he starts being more careful with it because he doesn't want to damage your gift

-He decides to also try to make things for you himself, without using any magic. He remembers you mentioning paintings back home that you used to decorate your place and decides to try making something like that, especially since he already has some paints still lying around his dorm from when you were trying to get him into some of your hobbies.

-In the end he tries painting you some scenery from the Valley of Thorns and it doesn't come out as great as he would've liked but you're so happy when he gives it to you and you immediately put it up and reassure him that you love it and that you appreciate him making something for you

-Whenever it's nice out and you're not busy (an unfortunately rare occurrence) you try to have picnics together!! It's so peaceful preparing the food and snacks and getting to relax together

-You finally get the hang of making flower crowns and teach him how, it takes a while but he gets it eventually. He makes you one and you make him two small ones for his horns and one just for his head and you take a ton of pictures together because the vibes are so perfect and <3

-Doing his makeup!! Maybe it takes you a while to do it well but just him letting you experiment with different looks on him, and he asks to do yours in return sometimes. He's so focused while doing it and it's very cute

-Since you're together I feel like your friends wouldn't be as scared of him (though they're still a bit intimidated) because of how you talk about him. So he tries to befriend them and talk to them here and there, though it does worry him a bit how chaotic they can all be together, especially since 99% of the time you get roped into it somehow. You're proud of the socializing progress anyway lmao

-As for the dynamic with you and the other main Diasomnia members, it's very relaxed for the most part, though you and Lilia can be a bit chaotic when together at times

-Sebek warms up to you, though he's still a bit scandalized when he sees you both doing anything remotely couple-y

-But generally it's nice family vibes and Malleus is very happy that you all get along

-You guys sometimes have little tea parties, usually just you two but sometimes you get Lilia, Sebek and Silver to join and it's very chill

-One day you show Malleus that you got matching mugs for you two and he's so 🥺

-Since you're from different places and also different species, you're very curious about norms and different traditions from his homeland and he asks about yours in return. He really wants you to visit the Valley of Thorns with him someday

-You mention one (1) time that you find his dorm uniform cool and he takes it upon himself to get you one and now you're an honorary member. He tells you to transfer as if you'd be able to navigate it without magic 😭

-You constantly ask him to do little magic "shows" for you when you're alone together because it's just so amazing and there's nothing real like that back home. Even though you're constantly surrounded by magic users now, you can never fully get used to it. He'll make tiny flames and other things and it's so cool to you and he loves watching how you react every time and he's so happy you feel safe enough around him to trust him with stuff like that

-He'll sometimes do it when you're upset/stressed and need a distraction too

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus twst #twst headcanons #twst x reader headcanons #malleus twisted wonderland #malleus x reader headcanons

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faistoconnors · 15 days ago

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Juno - A. Donaldson

Art Donaldson x Reader (requested by @lalalandofive )

Summary: Your relationship with a certain retired tennis star blossoms into something more. Will you let him make you Juno?

Warnings: stupid evil exes, vomiting (not in detail) morning sickness, unplanned pregnancy, age gap relationship (reader is 23, Art is mid-thirties) drinking mention, kissing, no smut (this time), probably this is terrible. just ask if I missed one!

Note: I am posting this off my kindle , so it's probably screwed up a little (A lot) I may reformat and reupload when I get my laptop !

Word count: 1.9k

You always knew him primarily as Mr. Donaldson. He wasn’t so much the hot dad next door as he was the hot dad at school pickup, but you weren’t complaining. Every little glimpse of him was better than the last, and it would be a lie to say you weren’t a little jealous that he aged so well. It felt a little objectifying, sometimes, but how couldn’t you notice him? He was there almost every day, picking up Lily, who had begun to make best friends with your son Adam.

Being younger than most of the parents there, since you had Adam at sixteen, you didn’t have much to talk about with any of them. But Mr. Donaldson, you had something: tennis. You’d played semi-professionally for most of your life, and he was all over it.

“Maybe I could coach you,” he suggested one day, and you laughed in his face. “No, I’m serious! You have potential.”

How he came to that conclusion was entirely beyond you, but again, you weren’t complaining. Mr. Donaldson was, of course, a retired tennis star. You’d be nothing but a fool if you turned him down.

“Well, maybe, then. If you think I have potential.

So you started. Outside of your regular parking-lot meetings, you’d show up at the public tennis courts and let him coach you. You were good, but you weren’t great, and he seemed determined to fix that. This side of him was something entirely new to you. No longer the soft-spoken, mild-mannered school dad you knew him as. Instead, he seemed much more like the duo you’d once heard about. Fire and ice, though he seemed to embody both in the moment.

It was all the little things from then, really. Every lingering touch on your shoulder as he adjusted your position, every knowing glance when both of you got your kids from school. You liked him.

See, when you’d had Adam, you made a promise you wouldn’t do something like that again. Something stupid, something reckless. You loved your little boy more than the weight of the world, but you couldn’t deny he’d set your life off-track.

Art Donaldson made you want to do something stupid.

The first time you met Tashi was at parent-teacher conferences. Adam had gotten a glowing review from his teacher, and as you turned to leave, you watched the family of three walk in. It was only a split-second moment, because Adam was hungry and you were too. So you hustled him right past them, and walked out to the car.

But God, Tashi was beautiful. If Art had aged well, Tashi hadn’t aged at all. She was picture-perfect, not a hair out of place, her neat blue coat smoothed to perfection.

The next time you saw Art, you were a little more reserved. There was no wedding ring on his finger, and you knew they had divorced, but if Tashi Duncan was his type…

It was a later practice, the setting sun pouring colors across the fence and the court. You were distracted, and you knew he knew that. Your reaction time was slower, your game was just off.

You’d come to the great realization, on the car ride over, that you harbored a crush on him. Art, with his pretty smile and perfect body and beautiful soul. Bless his parents, you thought, because those genetics must have been out of this world.

It wouldn’t last, though, you knew that much. He was so much older than you, sat at a level of fame you would never be comfortable with, and probably wanted more out of a partner than you could give.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he called out as you missed another point. You paused, sighed.

“I’m just tired.” A lie.

“No, you’re not,” he laughed, though his eyes were still set on you in a way you weren’t sure if you liked. “Come on, talk to me. You’re off your game.”

He made his way over to you and sat at one of the benches expectantly. Hesitantly, you joined him, worrying at your cuticles with your other hand.

“I just… I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I haven’t really gone on with my life since I had Adam.” It was a simple enough sentence, but nonetheless, it felt awful to admit. “I love him so much, I wouldn’t change it for the world, but I just think maybe I need to learn how to be myself, again.”

Art watched you as you spoke, and nodded. He’d moved closer to you, in the time that you were talking, and had put his arm to rest somewhere behind your back.

“What do you want?”

His voice was low, eyes dark as he watched you. That was where you faltered most. Under his gaze, under the now-silvery moonlight.

No more words were exchanged. You pressed closer, him closer still, and then, you were almost on top of him. One of his hands moved to rest at your hip, squeezing there, and you shivered.

His lips were soft against yours, touch gentle as he moved an arm around your waist. His body pressed against you, and you let out a breathless sigh. It was another few moments before you drew back first, and looked into his eyes. They were slightly crinkled at the sides, smile lines that you wanted to memorize, and for the first time, you noticed the small patch of brown in the right one.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and you couldn’t help the way your lips tilted upwards at the corners.

“Could say the same about you, you know.” At that moment, you knew it. You wanted his touch for life.

A few weeks passed, much the same but also very different. Every match was charged with electricity, every school pickup was filled with lingering glances at the lean blond man you had grown to know so well.

Of course, nothing lasts forever.

When you and Eric had gotten together in high school, it was a week-long fling one summer. He disappeared when you got pregnant, and that was the end of it.

So you were reasonably very stunned when he appeared at one of your tennis matches. He was taller, his hair almost black instead of dark brown, but he still had that boyish grin you remembered all too well. He waved at you, and you vomited onto the hard material of the court.

When he came over to where you were sitting on a bench, you had nothing for him but a hard stare and a frown. He looked concerned, rubbing your back, and you could see Art across the court with a look on his face you’d never seen before.

“You okay, gorgeous?” The voice was the same, too.

“Yeah, just uh- just surprised, is all.”

He smiled again, laughing.

“Eric, what are you doing here? After all this time… why?”

There was a long pause, before he made his way closer to you.

“I missed you.”

That was not the answer you would accept. It should have been, ‘I got my shit together for my son,’ or, ‘I want to be a part of his life.’

If he was there for you, that wasn’t good enough. You told him as much, trying not to let venom seep into your voice as you spoke. You could see his eyes darken, his expression fall into a glower, and it was almost comical how he looked at you.

“Eric, can you just- can you go? I’m supposed to be playing right now,” you tried, and he pressed closer. His breath stunk like alcohol, and it made your stomach turn so badly you thought you might throw up again.

When he moved closer still, face slipping towards yours like he was going to kiss you, you flinched back. It was only a moment, but then, there was a hand at Eric’s back, and he was being pulled away by his collar like a child. Art hauled the dark-haired man to his feet, staring him down. Eric was only a couple inches shorter, he looked like he was about two feet tall under Art’s glare.

By the time Eric had gone away, Art was fuming. He paced back and forth, disgust sparking in his eyes.

“Art, it’s fine. He’s gone now. Probably off to go bother some other woman,” was the only thing you could say. In reality, you felt so sick you could hardly stand it, anxiety and anger swirling in your stomach.

Art helped you to your feet, putting an arm around your waist, and brought you back to his car.

“Forget about it,” he waved you off when you told him you could drive yourself. “You don’t look good, anyways.”

That must have been true. If you had a mirror, maybe you’d see the thin layer of sweat sticking your baby hairs down to your forehead, or the glassy look in your eyes.

When you got back to his house, Art assured you that he’d pick up the kids from school, and you felt some sort of way about it, though you couldn’t piece together how.

“Tashi’s going to stop by to take care of you,” he said gently, and your heart dropped into your stomach. Before you could protest, tell him you were fine and you should go home anyways, he was out the door with his car keys in his hand.

Some time later, you were fading in and out of sleep on his couch when you heard the sound of the door unlocking. Sitting up as best you could, you watched as Tashi walked in. Her hair was clipped back, a sweater hanging over her frame, and she gave you a smile.

“He told me you aren’t feeling well,” she said, looking you over.

“I’m worried I’m pregnant,” you blurted out after a second, and she gave a nod.

“I brought tests. I had a feeling. He told me about all the time you spend together.”

She sat down beside you, a kind look in her eyes, resting a hand on your leg. It felt a bit surreal, to be sick on your boyfriend’s couch, his famous ex-wife taking care of you, but you weren’t going to complain about it.

You sat in the bathroom, waiting for the timer to go off. When it did, you carried the test back out to where Tashi was reviewing her newest player’s footage on the couch. She glanced up at you, pressing pause.

“You want me to look,” she guessed correctly, and you nodded.

“I’m just scared,” you admitted after a second, and she smiled. Before she flipped the test over, she looked back to you.

“No matter what happens, I promise you he won’t be mad. Maybe shocked, but not mad. ‘Kay?”

When Art got to the house later that night, having finished lunch with one of the foundation donors and picked up both of your children, you’d calmed down enough to look semi-normal when the three of them walked through the door. The visual worked, you thought. Art, the two children, and you waiting at home to greet them.

While Lily and Adam scampered off to go play in the backyard, you settled down at the kitchen counter with Art.

By the time you told him you were pregnant, he’d already known what you were going to say. There was a hesitant smile on both your faces, and he put a hand on your knee, resting his forehead against yours.

“I guess it’s for life,” you whispered to him. Art Donaldson loved you right.

#art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson #tashi duncan

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thinemoonshine · 5 months ago

Text

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓹𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝓫𝐨𝐲 ˚⊹♡

good boy!jake x bad girl!reader

content(s): angst, suggestive, jake is called as puppy, reader and jake both fall but jake falls harder, (y/n) is a bad influence but not mean, jake is horrendously down bad to a concerning point, like man’s an actual emotional manipulator too

type: oneshot

word count: 3.6k

inspired by enhypen’s track, ‘blind’

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: in which jake will do whatever it takes to win her heart—even if it means ruining himself ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

(y/n) and jake have that relationship that people don’t really see in real-life but people do write about. they’re a popular trope—though it usually falls in the taboo category. forbidden romance and whatnot.

jake, the university’s heartthrob with astounding grades and cordial personality, always open to making new friends despite his adorable bashfulness.

and then there’s (y/n), uni hottie infamous for her salacious stories on how she beds about anyone she wants both from campus and night clubs across korea, how she shows absolutely no interest in making any real personal connections and rejects all advances. she makes her own rules, carries her own beliefs and does whatever she wants. a maverick.

and yet, jake can’t help but fall for her.

true, he avoided her at first. all those rumours circulating her only scared him, pushing him further away from the girl but fate is funny—and it lead to him crashing on his butt after slipping on a sheet of ice outside the uni and (y/n) was the only one around.

“jake, you cut your palms!” she gasped while holding his hands in hers, gently caressing her thumbs around the fresh wounds.

he winced at the abrupt pain that came only after realizing the existence of the injuries and yet her touch relaxed him, even more so when she blew on them as an attempt to rid off any dust.

“you know my name,” jake murmured and she looked at him, bewildered almost, before she let out a titter.

“in this place, it’ll be weirder if i didn’t.”

and at that very moment, hearing her laugh, seeing her genuine smile, jake felt something shift within him. petals seemed to flutter around her as the air slowed, noises muffled and pink tinted his vision.

it’s love at first sight.

and it grew more and more as they exchanged greetings in the hallways until eventually, he managed to find a place beside her. she never lets him mingle with her crowd though, always keeping him at a safe distance.

but it doesn’t matter to him, not when the only one he wants and needs is her, and only her.

—

“i’m bored,” (y/n) groans as she rolls onto her back on jake’s bed, head hanging off the edge while her legs fold so knees point to the sky.

the owner of the room grins. he glances over his shoulder to look at her before focusing back on his assignment sitting on the desk. “yeah? how about you play my games? or paint your nails? i bought some new shades i think you’ll like.”

“really?? you’re so sweet, puppy!” she exclaims and lands a surprise peck on his cheek which makes his heart explode and gears malfunction—now unable to think for his work.

he watches from the corner of his eye as she takes the pretty storage box he got just for her and filled it with things catered to her liking.

“hey, how about i paint your nails?” she then, suggests and he turns his face fully towards her right as she does the same to him. “you okay with that?”

jake bobs his head, already excited, evident from the big grin on his face and shortly after, they’re both sitting across one another on the bed. a mini study table is unfolded between them with the nail polish box and his hands resting on top.

“so, what colour does my client want today?” (y/n) asks, suddenly playing as a nail artist and jake chuckles.

“what does the artist suggest?”

“hmm~ judging from your cute face and sweet personality,” she starts and throws in a wink, unaware that that one gesture sends his heart jumping. “maybe something bright but not neon! like, sunny yellow or sky blue. some sparkles maybe?”

the customer ponders over her suggestions before making a choice. “black. i’d like to have my nails painted black.”

“black?” (y/n) echoes with confusion. “that’s the complete opposite of what i told you.”

jake shows off his pearly whites cheekily. “black matches with everything.”

“alright. what the puppy wants, puppy gets,” the girl shrugs and takes out the chosen shade. a comfortable silence embraces them as he stares at her like a lovesick boy—which he is.

he loves everything about this moment, especially the part where her attention’s all on him—well, his nails but still, a part of him. he also loves how he can admire her for as long as he wants without getting scared of being caught.

seeing how her lashes flutter at the movements of her eyes, how her brows knit slightly at every mistake and how her lips pucker and roll between her teeth from concentration.

jake’s eyes linger on her lips, breathing starting to slow and deepen as he watches her tongue dart out to leave a sheen on the soft skin.

his breath hitches and faster than he can even think, he leans forward to steal a kiss. (y/n) whips her head up at him when he pulls back, surprise painted across her face before she breaks out into the loveliest smile he’s ever laid eyes on.

it’s a familiar smile, one she always wears whenever she’s pleasantly amused, which is often with jake. and yet her smile keeps getting prettier and prettier, more endearing and breathtaking than the last.

“is that payment? i haven’t even finished painting,” (y/n) comments as she finishes the last nail on his right hand and closes the polish to keep it fresh.

jake nods his head, going along with her script but instead of replying, he leans in once more, eyes flickering from hers to her rosy nubs and who’s she to deny his kisses?

he smiles against her lips and easily discards the barrier between them, sliding the small desk aside before wrapping his arms around her figure. their tongues collide and he moans quietly as his blood rushes with excitement.

he tightens the hold, effectively trapping her before gently lowering her to his mattress. he pulls away just as he moves his hands to her sides, propping himself up to hover the girl who’s pinned underneath him.

(y/n) instantly brings her hands up to his hair—combing his overgrown bangs away from his face to see him gazing down at her with pure endearment and tenderness swirling in his eyes. “your hair’s getting long, huh? gonna cut it?”

“no…” he says quietly and nuzzles into the crook of her neck, taking in that sharp yet alluring fragrance of her perfume. “i’ll keep it long so you can play with it.”

she almost snorts at his reasoning but settles with pecking his cheek. “yeah, right. like it’s not because you’re the one who actually wants me to.”

jake giggles, hot breath against her skin making her shudder and he revels in the effect he has on her.

he wants more.

licking his lips, he starts peppering wet kisses on the side of her neck before gradually traveling to the other side and lower. small breathy whimpers emit from the girl whose heartrate quickens at the abrupt shift in mood.

the tension in the room is thick. both of them tangled on the sheets, panting with desire searing through their veins like molten lava as jake continuously laps on her skin like a parched man—pressing himself against her impossibly closer, wanting to feel everything of her.

“jake…” (y/n) breathes out before gulping thickly and her fingers involuntarily curl around his dark locks when he suddenly nips at her collarbone.

a groan rumbles through his chest, eyes closing at the pleasurable sting on his scalp as he quickly swipes his tongue on the bitten spot. “i love you, (y/n). i love you so much.”

his abrupt profession instantly slaps her back to reality and she yanks his head back, eliciting a whine from him as a shiver runs down his spine. she meets his gaze that’s transfixed on her, half-lidded and dazed like he’s intoxicated as he lets out ragged breaths.

“i have to go,” she curtly says before pushing him off and he sits on his heels—following her with his eyes round and confused as she moves in his room.

“wait, (y/n). y-you haven’t finished my nails,” he tries to get her to stay as he climbs off his bed to tail after her.

she shakes her head, refusing to turn and face him. “i’ll do it some other day.”

“s-still. stay longer,” he mewls, voice airy and cracking as it dawns on him that her sudden departure is probably due to his advances.

she doesn’t want him. he knows that.

whenever they make out, it’s always her taking the lead, always her holding the rails and deciding when to start and stop. and even then, she doesn’t let anything go too far—always stopping whenever he starts to want more, leaving him craving and in need.

leaving him feeling empty when he sees her with her lips on that freaking rich boy yoon-oh who’s uselessly molded like a freaking sculpture.

pouring salt into his wounds when she starts slipping her hands below yoon-oh’s shirt and letting him do the same to her—giggling so cutely through it all.

jake can only watch from afar with fists tight and jaw clenched before he walks away with nothing but a dry feeling in his throat, chest heavy and constricted that it’s hard to even breathe.

“i’m sorry. i won’t do it again,” jake quickly apologizes, voice small as he circles around her to block the door. his hands tremble as they reach up for her shoulders but he promptly retracts them. “don’t leave just yet…please.”

(y/n) halts and finally looks at him. “jake, this was all a mistake. i have to leave.”

“mistake?” jaeyun repeats as the colours on his face drain.

“you’re not supposed to like me that way. whatever between us is meant to be casual, no strings attached. so, i’m leaving,” the other elaborates and tries to push him aside but is halted by his hand that wraps around her wrist.

it loosens just as quickly as he grips, not wanting to push any more boundaries. “…don’t. please.”

he starts off quietly, pleadingly, and chews on his bottom lip before continuing. “then, let me be the one to love you. y-you don’t have to do the same—you don’t have to be mine! just let me be…yours. yours, to you and let me love you. can i not?”

drop!

(y/n)’s eyes shift to the tear droplet on his tile, watching it glint under his fluorescent light before focusing back on his face to see streams below his eyes carrying the same gleam.

“don’t cry for me. it’s useless,” she hisses and instantly feels an agonizing tug within her, demanding her to repent day and night in every second, every breath, for hurting such a sweet soul such as jaeyun. “we never should’ve met.”

her last comment comes out as a low whisper, almost incomprehensible but the other catches it perfectly. and the pain that follows after is excruciating—tearing whatever spirit is left of him and he sobs.

choking on his own breath, he inhales and exhales heavily, chest heaving as he shakes his head side to side.

“i’ll never regret,” he claims, nothing short of conviction, although his voice shakes at every syllable and he roughly wipes his eyes with a single swipe of his sleeve. he wheezes raggedly as he swallows forcefully. “at least…tell me why. why not me? i thought—thought you liked me.”

(y/n)’s own tears threaten to burst seeing him so tattered as he struggles to speak between his violent breaths. but she needs to make this clear. final.

“you and i, we’ll never work out,” she begins and takes it a step further by grabbing his face tightly and dragging him down. her brows knit seeing him flinch at the rough motion but she doesn’t stop—only putting on her facade of indifference once more. “people like you are too…good. and i hate that. i liked you for your face, for your naive, foolish obedience but i don’t intend to keep you. i loathe people like you.”

her statement makes him gasp, eyes widening instantly as his chewed, swollen lip fall from between his teeth, finally halting himself from abusing it any further. it’s like the world has turned completely still. his ears deafened, noise in his mind silenced, his breaths hitched as all he can see and comprehend is (y/n)’s scorn and furthering figure.

by the time he’s collected himself, he’s alone in his room that feels significantly empty, tranquil, and yet…bleak.

—

“it’s her. she’s back,” one whispers.

“dang, she’s as hot as ever,” another whistles quietly.

(y/n) frowns and rolls her eyes. ‘what is this? high school?’

she just took a year off, hoping that her absence will make jake’s feelings for her to fade but she didn’t expect for people to gossip about her like she’s some new meat. she’s old news, it’s not like people don’t already know her.

“should’ve just stayed away honestly. she’s just gonna be a bad influence,” another hisses and their friend scoffs.

“look at what happened to jake.”

at this, (y/n) freezes completely and head turns to the speaker, eyes fixed solely on the pair of friends as she strides to them. “what do you mean? what happened to jake?”

and as if on cue, a door opens and students come filing out excitedly, ready for lunch and among them is a strikingly handsome man with dark hair grown to almost reach his lower neck, half of them tied up in a ponytail while bangs part in the middle and frame his face beautifully. its center part pulled to be a part of those tied back.

adorning his eyes are grey contacts and right down the center of his bottom lip rests a silver lip piercing that caters to his habit of sticking out his tongue—letting him play with it.

he’s dressed in all dark—black and dark grays—and baggy clothes that only add more appeal to his skin tone and his face is radiant.

yet at the same time, he’s unrecognizable to (y/n). his aura is vastly different although, she can’t quite tell from his appearance alone. she might just be dramatic. maybe he found a different taste in fashion?

she must’ve been staring too long, hypnotized, because jake suddenly stops in his tracks, ignoring his friend to instead turn towards her direction—eyes widening when seeing her.

and he instantly starts approaching with large, calculated strides. his gait so confident and sharp that others naturally part for him until he stands in front of the girl who almost gawks at him.

now closer, the sentiment is more vivid. the aura he emanates is…him and yet at the same time, an enigmatic undertone is present. something more…dangerous. is that the right term to call it?

“(y/n)?” he asks, eyes wandering on her face and figure as if to make sure she’s not a figment of his imagination. a sick image his brain’s pulled up just to mess him up further and deeper like it has been in the past year. but from the look of shock and perplexity on her face, he knows it’s her.

a grin of both unbridled relief and excitement stretches on his face, ear to ear before he crushes the girl in his arms.

“you’re back! you’re finally back! i knew you would…i knew it,” he whispers into her hair as his hand gently holds the back of her head while the other’s tight around her waist.

(y/n) remains frozen, a sense of nostalgia flooding within her but she quickly shoves him off just to shoot him a sharp look. others might think she’s angry, but jake knows better. she’s concerned and puzzled. “what are you even talking about? i left you!”

“yeah,” he replies chirpily, hands in his pockets as he tilts his head at the girl with a beam. him and his cute face. “and you came back. that’s all that matters. ooh! come! i have to show you something!”

she’s dragged away to an empty lecture room before she can even refuse and jake backs her against the wall before pulling down his bottom lip. her eyes widen the moment she sees her name tattooed on the red, wet tissue and she looks up at him, incredulous.

“are you insane?? why would you get that? that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever seen, jake,” she chides, voice laced with fury as glare stares daggers yet, the other only watches her with hearts dancing in his eyes. “you’re so… ugh. you know what? it’s passed. did it hurt?”

jake nods, pouting and lowers himself so his forehead rests on her shoulder, rubbing on her. “like craaazyyy~”

(y/n) gulps, trying to restrain herself from just melting at his cute whine, knowing full well that’s exactly what he’s aiming for.

“but you know, after you left, nothing really felt like anything anymore…” he murmurs melancholically and she feels a tightness in her chest yet, she remains stoic—until she feels his teeth grazing the side of her neck before a soft nibble.

she flinches, holding his shoulders but doesn’t have the heart to push him away. “sim jaeyun! what on earth are you doing??”

“you abandoned your puppy for so long, he’s upset. he’s mad,” jake grumbles and nips at her skin, earning him a gasp and his tongue darts out to soothe the spot. but the emotions quickly flood in again, which prompts another bite and lick. and this goes on and on with his emotions in a constant tumultuous cycle.

“jake,” (y/n) feebly says as her fortitude begins to crumble and finally pushes him back to an arm’s length. she expects to see him pouting, maybe frowning in disagreement and yet, what greets her is a giggly jaeyun with a loopy grin. she breathes in, about to retort at his behavior but stops at a familiar smell. “are you drunk?”

“noooo,” he drags his word and lets out another giggle as he pecks her nose, finding her rounded eyes and lips a cute expression on her. “maybe…i had a teeny sip.”

a scoff of perplexity escapes the girl. jake’s never drank before. even when she ordered chicken and beer, he never drinks—always having a separate non-alcoholic beverage for himself. and yet now he’s drunk?? on a school day??

“this is unbelievable,” she mutters underneath her breath before holding his hand to drag him to the door. “we’re getting you sobered up. how did no one notic—”

“i’m not going,” he stubbornly says and wraps his arms around her—a secure yet most soft of holds that even his fingers occasionally hover her skin as if she’d shatter. “if i do…you’ll just leave me again.”

(y/n) frowns at his defiance. “what?”

jake’s reticence shines through, especially so with his attempt to divert her attention by brushing his lips against the side of her head but not bold enough to lay them yet. “you’ll only stay if i’m hurt. just like the first time we met and even now. you’re worried about me, afraid that i’d get in bigger trouble.”

his observation is spot on—something that even (y/n) didn’t notice beforehand—and she swallows dryly. “that doesn’t mean you can walk around campus all drunk.”

“you made me this way!” he raises his voice although it merely comes off in a choked sob. his eyes wet the fabric on her shoulder as he rests himself there. “i thought i was your puppy boy…and i always will be. look, i even grew out a leash for you… my hair will be so much easier for you to grab a-and, it will be so much better to play with.”

as he continues his excruciating desperate pleas, (y/n) can only think of three recurring thoughts.

‘he’s right.’

‘i made him this way.’

‘i…ruined him.’

and it is with these credos that she finally realizes that jake can never be restored to how he was—not without her. her one year absence have lead to vast changes already. if she is to spend longer…the thought itself frightens her.

his wispy whispers halt with an almost unheard gasp when he feels her fingers play with the hair on his nape before they travel up to gently grasp on his small ponytail.

pupils dilate instantly as they make contact with her face and the sight of her smile makes his heart race as he sees hope—rekindling his excitement for life especially now, a life with her.

“okay. be my loyal puppy, she surrenders quietly and his pearly whites appear at his beam. his face glows and arms squeeze around her shoulders as he pulls her into his chest.

“thank you, (y/n)! i’ll be your most loyal, most loving pup!” he exclaims—nuzzling his cheeks against the side of her head. “i love you so much.”

those three words that previously struck her like a knife to the chest are now bearable. desirable and sweet even, and they will her to reciprocate.

“i love you too, jake.”

her unforeseen reply brings tears to his eyes once more and he presses his lips onto her crown, a gesture that lingers and leaves a pleasantly burning warmth as he practically buzzes with relief and delight.

he's going to make sure (y/n) won't need anyone else beside him anymore. he agreed with being her pup for now but sooner or later, she'll realise how much better he is than anyone else, how strong and reliable he is. he can take care of both him and her, and he's going to convince her one day that he's not the weak-willed, goodie-two-shoes guy she thinks he is.

he’ll make sure of it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bambi (heeseung ver.), you, a lucid dream (jongseong ver.), skater boy (sunghoon ver.)

𝜗𝜚 disclaimer: i do not condone any reckless behaviour portrayed in this work. this is entirely fiction and does not depict the member's real personality. if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#jake enhypen #jake x reader #jaeyun oneshot #enhypen x reader #possessive jake #jaeyun imagines #enhypen oneshot #enhypen x female reader #enhypen fanfiction #jake enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #jake oneshot #jake imagines #jaeyun fanfiction #jaeyun x reader #downbad enhypen #jealous enhypen #possessive enhypen

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justalost4girl · 4 months ago

Text

ONE

This fanfic is part of my Taylor Swift coded fanfics. word count: 3186

A girl walks onto the stage with a guitar in hand and a smile on her face.

She greets the band, and they greet her back. The shy girl thanks everyone for coming tonight.

Natasha Romanoff grips her glass tighter and orders another shot of whiskey without looking at the bartender, as she can't take her eyes off of you.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

One year earlier…

She finds you at the café. Natasha hates cafés, but she knows your company's head of security comes at the end of every period to get coffee with you; it's been like this for two weeks.

But today, you're alone at a table, and Natasha needs to adjust the plan. She goes to the counter and orders a cappuccino—the same as yours—and looks for a place to sit.

Your eyes meet hers, and for a moment, the redhead ignores the hot cup she's carrying.

You're beautiful

And shy.

Natasha recalls your file and smiles. You were exactly as Skye had described. She sees a chance to approach in the crowded room and clears her throat; she's done this before but feels the need to focus.

"Can I sit with you?" A soft voice pulls you out of the stupor you entered when you looked into those deep green eyes. Eyes that could inspire symphonies, and you believe she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, and your brain can't do more than nod, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

She sits beside you, not in front of you, waiting to analyze your computer. The file didn't mention the software you use, so it's up to her to find out before your friend arrives. She positions her coffee well so her field of vision can see anything that appears on the screen.

"I'm pretty sure I've seen you around here; do you live nearby?" She asks, trying to break the ice as usual, but deep down, she feels strange under your contemplative gaze.

"Yes, I live in the building across from Luthor Corp and work there." Your voice shows pride, and your eyes sparkle, Natasha notices. She wonders if you know what your colleague has been developing and the true nature of your boss.

"And you? I don't think I've seen you around here before," you seem genuinely interested. Natasha likes that. Targets are easy, but you are very easy; with just a few words, she already knows where you live and work. For a security analyst, you are far too naive.

And she puts the plan into practice.

"I just moved to the end of the block. There are so many boxes… I needed the coffee to give me energy." She says with an extremely calculated tone. You smile and notice that she has a beautiful corner smile and really seems tired, so you offer to help.

You always offer to help strangers.

And Natasha celebrates the success of the plan while taking a sip of coffee and leaning toward you, complimenting your screensaver. While you give her an excited explanation, she takes the opportunity to see the type of software used and memorizes the access password when you unlock the computer to show how the galaxy theme expands on your computer.

You exchange names.

She's Natalie. Nickname? Nat. The redhead shares similar tastes to yours, and something tells you that coming here alone was the best choice. After all, Nat would never look at you if Luke were around.

You also have a name, but everyone calls you Newton. In honor of your favorite physicist. A development assistant in the security sector with a desk always organizedly messy, in your words. Your boss, Luke, didn't come today because he had an emergency meeting and gave you the afternoon off. Natasha makes a mental note to understand this.

He didn't have any meetings scheduled.

As the coffee finishes, Nat guides you to her house. You stretch your back and even tie your hair up to help with the boxes. Then, you feel a bit disappointed to find there are only two, but you don't complain.

You never complain.

Natasha watches you help organize the books in the living room, chattering away about how you've read most of them and your opinions. You don't notice, however, that they show no signs of use, and amidst some jokes, for a minute Natasha forgets about the mission. Being with you is comfy.

"Wanna order pizza? I know a good place." You ask, sitting on her floor. Your jacket, backpack, and shoes are at the door. She liked how you took off your shoes to enter her house. It's a sign of respect, you say. The file points out the numerous k-dramas evaluated in your account, but she doesn't comment and even finds it adorable. She finds you adorable. Period.

"Sure, but only if you agree to watch something before we go and let me pay for the snack. You were my hero today." Nat smiles, and all that crosses your mind is how random your luck is. Here, sitting on this floor with the most beautiful woman you've ever met in front of you, the word destiny has a new meaning.

She gives you yoga pants and an oversized Star Wars shirt, your favorite saga, to make yourself comfortable. The pizza arrives while you're changing, and she can't use your laptop, but that loses its importance when your heart warms seeing you wear clothes she bought just for you. You feel like you're in heaven for finding someone as big a Star Wars fan as you, because that shirt was only available by order. Everything seems too perfect, you think, but the thought flies when you find out the theory of olives applies to both of you.

Natasha puts on your favorite movie from the franchise, and what was supposed to be just one movie becomes a marathon. She knows all the lines and jokes from each movie, knows curiosities and book details, and that makes you ignore your phone all night.

That night, you fall asleep on the couch.

The sun hits the window, and the redhead opens her eyes and sees you. Your arms are by your side, but Natasha is practically in your lap. Even in a deep sleep, you respect her too much to touch her.

Natasha is distracted for a moment and wonders how much of a spy she was last night. Here and now, looking at your lips in a half smile and your messy hair. Natasha almost feels bad for getting into this mission.

Almost.

She shakes her head and carefully gets off the couch and goes to your backpack, finding a black-covered book and the laptop. The goal? Install a spy program on the laptop. The problem? Natasha's curiosity gets the best of her, and she opens the book.

Your song lyrics, drawing attempts, and poems are a world for her to explore, and only after ten minutes, Natasha remembers the mission. She plugs in a device, pockets it, and waits for the installation, but when the progress bar is only halfway, your alarm goes off, and Natasha has to improvise.

Two minutes until the program is complete.

"Hello there," she says, smiling softly, throwing herself on top of you.

"Ah, now you're Obi-Wan? I thought you were Jar Jar Binks," you say, rubbing your eye and laughing at her offended expression.

Natasha rolls her eyes and starts a tickle war. You squirm, and she lets herself spin on the couch, ending up underneath you.

"Okay, okay, truce. You're not Jar Jar. You're the face anyone would turn to the dark side for," you say, feeling an unexpected courage.

"Does that go for you, Newton?" Natasha says softly, her eyes fixed on yours, her gaze alternating between your lips and your eyes in an almost hypnotizing manner.

"That goes for me, Nat," you whisper, looking at her lips.

You're not sure who initiated the kiss first, but you like to think it was both. The world seems to stop as your lips meet, each touch filled with emotions and suppressed desires. For you, it's a moment of pure magic and connection, an unexpected paradise. For Natasha, it's a reminder of what she could lose, a conflict between duty and desire.

The day passes slowly. She drags you from the couch to the kitchen for coffee and then back to the couch for a make-out session. Natasha has a dominant and bossy streak, and you feel comfortable and safe beside her, as her hands don’t cross any boundaries and remain on your waist. You try a new recipe, talk about the weather, exchange compliments and kisses. The afternoon arrives, and Luke calls you to the office.

You decide to stop by home first but manage to take one of Natasha's limited edition sweatshirts as a promise to meet again soon.

Natasha leaves you at the door smiling like she hasn't in a long time. All for the mission, of course. At least that's what she wants to believe.

She doesn't realize she forgot to send the report to Fury.

You don't realize your laptop is on in the backpack.

Nat is different from any woman you've ever met.

Not that you've met many.

No, but Nat is different. She's kind. She's everything you could ask for in a person. Nat is too good to be true.

"Newton is smiling today?" Luke says, approaching your desk.

"I found my soulmate at the café yesterday," you say, eyes sparkling.

"Really? What's she like?" he asks, placing some files on your desk.

You describe everything, from her appearance to shared tastes, and he smiles like he does with clients.

"Send me the code by 5 p.m., then you can go see your future wife," he says, typing something on his phone and leaving.

You smile and grab your laptop. It's almost dead and turned on. You find it strange but don't question it; after all, the computer is still locked. The memory of Nat's eyes brings you more inspiration, and you jot down about the new shade of green where you found peace.

The afternoon passes in a blur, the leaves fall, and you finally finish the code. Luke is nowhere to be found, something about an urgent meeting, and you decide to send the code by email.

Natasha is at home, with full access to your computer, celebrating the success of the plan. The virus will accompany the file. Luke will open it on the corporate computer, and she can finish the mission. She watches you through the camera, and Natasha misses you for a moment. You are a beautiful collateral damage. Too kind. Too captivating.

She knows it's wrong, but she lets the idea linger in her mind for more than a minute.

Natasha sighed as she shut down the laptop, feeling the weight of the decision she had made. She glanced at the phone screen, hesitant for a moment before typing a quick message to Newton.

"Miss you, come over?" she typed, her fingers hesitating over the keys. It was the first time in a long time that she allowed herself to be true.

"On my way, General Romanoff," you reply, making your usual path with a smile on your face.

☆。*。☆。 Eight months earlier…

One night, as the soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, you were sitting on the couch beside Natasha. She was flipping through your lyric notebook, and after much persuasion, she managed to convince you to sing one of your songs. With a shy smile, your voice filled the room, bringing life to the carefully crafted words.

Natasha watched you with admiration, her eyes sparkling with each note. When you finished, she applauded enthusiastically.

"You have an incredible voice, you know? You should leave this field and sing in a bar. Become famous and rich," Natasha suggested, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Maybe someday. But if I do, will you promise to be there?"

Natasha took your hand and looked directly into your eyes. "I wouldn't miss any of your shows for anything in this world," she said sincerely.

Later that night, after waking from a nightmare and seeing Natasha, who was now lying on her side, her hair spread across the pillow, you took a deep breath.

Focusing on the woman beside you, you felt a mix of tenderness and curiosity as you admired the peace on her face. Her gentle features seemed even kinder in the quiet of the moment.

Natasha breathed calmly in peaceful sleep, immersed in a world of tranquility that contrasted with the turmoil of your own thoughts.

For a moment, you wondered about the thoughts Natasha kept, about what she dreamed and what made her smile in the silence of that rest. There was something intriguing about the way she moved in the world, near you, an aura of mystery and serenity that deeply attracted you.

You were in love; you felt it intensely and quickly. And for the first time in your life, you felt that this love was mutual. You lay down beside her, lightly touching Natasha's lips with a kiss. She slowly opened her eyes, meeting yours with a gentle shine of surprise and care.

"Nat," you started, feeling your heart racing with emotion overflowing in your words. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

A radiant smile formed on her lips, her eyes reflecting tenderness and joy. She nodded slightly, without saying a word, but making it clear that her answer was yes.

☆。*。☆。 Six months earlier…

You walked out of the office with firm steps, Luke by your side. For the first time in months, he mentioned it was for security measures, and you didn't mind, too excited to introduce your oldest friend to your girlfriend. The usual café was just a few meters away, and Natasha, watching from afar, noticed the smile on Newton's face as she entered the establishment.

"Hello there!" You exclaimed eagerly upon seeing Natasha, who smiled back warmly as she greeted you. "You're here! I missed you," Natasha said, warmly embracing you. She caught the familiar scent of Newton and momentarily lost herself in the comforting sensation.

"Yes, and accompanied this time. Nat, this is Luke. Luke, this is Natalie," you introduced them, your eyes shining with affection for Nat, your girlfriend.

"Natalie! You're as beautiful as she said," Luke complimented Natasha with a gallant air, earning a playful eye-roll from Newton. Natasha noted the dynamic between the two, the way Luke enjoyed subtly teasing her.

"Maybe Newton is onto something after all," Natasha replied, laughing softly as she observed Newton and Luke interact.

Luke was at ease, responding to Natasha's light questions with calculated calm. He didn't reveal much personal information, maintaining a professional and careful demeanor in his responses. Natasha tried to probe him about his work and interests, but Luke skillfully deflected, keeping the conversation on superficial topics.

During a momentary pause, Luke received a call on his cell phone. He discreetly stepped away to answer it, while you and Nat continued chatting. A few minutes later, Luke returned with a serious expression.

"Newton," Luke began, catching both your attention. "I just received an important call. We need to prepare for a trip to Seattle in a week. We have a client that requires our personal attention. We'll be there for a month."

You nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility on your shoulders. Natasha couldn't contain her excitement upon hearing about the trip. It was the perfect opportunity to gather evidence against Luke's criminal activities. She spoke with anticipation in her eyes. "That's great! I'd love to come along, if possible."

Luke seemed surprised by Natasha's suggestion, his gaze becoming more cautious. "Natalie, I'm not sure if…"

"I have family there, I don't need to know many details, I just didn't want to be away from Newton," Natasha said persuasively, while Luke looked at her with a wary gaze.

You smiled at Nat and kissed her gently. "Of course, you can come, right Luke?"

Luke nodded resignedly but with a faint smile. "Alright, then get ready for the trip."

While observing the tension in his voice, you recalled how meticulous he had been with security recently. First, insisting on buying a new computer for you, claiming it was safer and more efficient. Then, personally supervising the building's security system update. At the time, you thought it was just part of his protective nature as head of security. Now, however, looking at him, there was something in his behavior that made you wonder if he was hiding something.

The idea of betraying you was unbearable. If only she could find something to justify her mission, she could decide what to do next. She could stop everything, tell you the truth, and run away to Greece, or anywhere far from here.

On the flight, Natasha kept herself discreet, but every glance exchanged between you two left her more conflicted. You were excited about the trip, unaware of the internal turmoil Natasha was facing. She wanted to protect you, but how could she do that when she herself was the threat?

Upon arriving at the destination, Natasha checked into the same hotel as you, but Luke made sure she had no access to the meetings. He was vigilant, observing every interaction between you. You, on the other hand, seemed happy with the opportunity to explore the city alongside Natasha, oblivious to her true intentions.

Every night, as you fell asleep, Natasha stayed awake, lost in thought. She looked at you, feeling a mixture of tenderness and guilt. She knew she needed to act, to find something that would change everything. But until that happened, she stayed by your side, cherishing the time she still had.

Natasha Romanoff had no idea she wasn't the only one playing this game.

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Two - July 9, 2024

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Comments are appreciated :)

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