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thewickedjazzy · 28 days ago

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Level 1 : “Unveiled” [cyberstalking] for Kinktober.

♡stalker! fyodor d. x afab! reader.

♡Synopsis: your secret life as a streamer takes a wild turn when feyda becomes dangerously obsessed with you, well uh.. obsessed enough to break in, not just to watch, but to finally fuck you.

♡Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt with plot, cyberstalking, cybersex, obsessed! fedya, bdsm themes, non-con recording, dark themes, bondage, oral, cum mentioned, unprotected sex..etc.

♡Word count & a/n: 4k, i'm so sorry. i know i'm horrendously late. i may or may not morph into some sort of poetic lunatic by the end of this fic ppft. also, shoutout to fedya’s art by the brilliant " @isabeau333 " on x.

[SEE: Kink Coin & Winners Scoreboard]

it’s 1:46 a.m. again. you’re sitting on your bed, eyes wide open, staring at the glow of your phone screen. tonight feels different, but you can’t wrap your finger on why. there's a stillness in your own bedroom that makes your skin prickle with unease. you should be asleep by now—work’s in a few hours—but your body hums with a strange kind of thrill. a thrill you haven’t felt since him.

you unlock your phone and scroll through your messages—nothing. the usual fans, the usual comments. until you see it, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as you catch the latest one:

unknown: “don’t bother, my dear. i’m already inside.”

unconsciously, your breath catches in your throat. inside? inside where? your fingers freeze as you stare at the screen. is someone actually stalking you? you can't help but think what if it’s just a prank, someone trying to mess with you, make you think that you're crazy or something.

but deep down, you know better.

because nothing exciting ever really happens to you. not in your real life, anyway. you’ve got your 9-to-5 job, well, the same routine every day as it was before him. you come home, make lunch, and watch a show to unwind from the long, exhausting day at work. mundane. predictable.

but after midnight, everything changes.

it’s the part of your life no one knows about. not even your closest friends. as soon as the clock hits 12, you shift into someone else entirely. that secret side of you comes alive, and for a few hours every night, you stream games to a hidden audience, identity shielded by the anonymity of your kitsune mask.

you’re known online as "kitsunekitten," a name that’s grown more popular than you ever expected. thousands of fans tune in religiously to watch you play everything from dishonoured to lies of p, dead cells, or resident evil. and with every stream, your fanbase grows. the praise, the attention—it feels good.

your phone buzzes again.

unknown: “look behind you.”

you freeze, breath hitching with fear as you feel the slight shiver spread across your body. your gaze darts to the corner of the room, where your webcam sits innocently atop your monitor. you’ve always felt secure with the mask on—no one could ever see your face, not really. but now? the idea that someone might be looking through the lens, watching your every move, makes your skin crawl.

for a long moment, you don’t move. you don’t dare to. but the urge to check if it's him is eating you alive. slowly, your head turns, heart pounding as your eyes scan the obscured room behind you.

there's nothing.

the room is exactly how you left it—empty, quiet.

your shoulders sag in relief, though your nerves still remain frayed, buzzing with adrenaline. you stand from your desk, pacing, trying everything just anything to shake the unease that's wrecking your system. you glance at the clock: 1:49 a.m. it’s too late to still be awake, but you’re wired. there’s no way you’re getting any sleep tonight, not after those messages.

your phone buzzes again, and against your better judgment, you grab it.

unknown: “you’re so cute when you’re scared.”

your blood runs cold, a shiver racing down your spine. there’s no way they can actually be inside… right? you check the door, locked. the windows, closed. you even peek through the curtains, scanning the street below. everything is as it should be, yet the feeling of being watched is suffocating.

how do they know?

another message:

unknown: “why don’t you check the stream again?”

your heart nearly stops. you rush back to your desk, hands trembling as you click open your streaming software. the screen flickers showing your room through the webcam—but something’s off.

the feed is lagging, slow, as if struggling to keep up. then, for a split second, you see it—a shadow in the corner of the room. you blink, leaning closer, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

panic sets in, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to do. but before you can type anything, another message appears, this time in the stream chat. their username, the same one that’s been following you for a few days now: raskolnikov.

“i like your mask, but it’s time we get rid of it, don’t you think?”

your pulse races trying your best to shut the stream down, but your cursor freezes. the mouse won’t respond. every click is to no avail. the screen blurs for a moment before the video feed cuts to black.

what the hell is going on?

then, just as you're about to reach for your phone to call 911, your screen lights up again, showing a video file playing. it’s footage of you—a vivid footage from inside your apartment. to be more exact from your bedroom. you recognize the view, the angle—it’s from your own webcam showing you, sleeping, unaware of the camera watching your every move you make.

your stomach churns. this isn’t real, no... this can’t be real.

then you hear it. this time, a voice comes from right behind you. it filters through your ears, clear with a chilling calmness to it.

“did you miss me, myskha?”

your body locks up, thrill tightening your throat. god! you're so stupid, of course it's him, you should've known it's him, that smooth, taunting tone you’d recognise anywhere.

it’s fyodor dostoevsky.

a few months ago, things were simple. your streams were gaining traction, and the messages were nothing out of the ordinary. until him.

it started small—just a user in your chat, “@demonfyodor,” who seemed more attentive than others. you didn’t think much of it at first. his comments were polite, sometimes even helpful. but then, they became more specific. he knew details about your personal life, things you had never shared on stream—what books you were reading, the colour of the shirt you wore to work that day.

you ignored it at first, brushing it off as a coincidence. but the coincidences kept piling up. he knew too much.

and then, the gifts started arriving. packages with no return address. items you’d mentioned offhandedly during a stream—a game you were interested in, a book you had your eye on, even a necklace you admired. they all came, perfectly wrapped, as if sent by someone who was always listening, aways watching.

by then, the messages grew more intense, sliding into your dms with a casual ease that sent shivers down your spine. easy to say that he wanted more than just to watch. he craved interaction, intimacy, a connection that transcended beyond the screen. and the thrill of having someone so alluringly close was insanely intoxicating, especially when you wore your mask, the anonymity allowing you to explore sides of yourself you’d long kept hidden.

at first, it was thrilling to engage in these flirty exchanges with him. fyodor had a specific way of using words that wrapped around you like silk, enticing you into a world of pleasure you had almost forgotten. he’d ask if you liked the gifts he sent—those perfect little treasures that you've always secretly craved. new packages started arriving, each one with a rush of excitement, revealing items that teased at your wildest fantasies—handcuffs, whips, and other bdsm delights that you had secretly wanted to try but never had the courage to explore.

you’d spent so long alone, single for what felt like an eternity, that you never expected to be so drawn to these fantasies again.

you found yourself lost in hours of texting, often escalating to calls and even facetiming late at night. there was this specific magnetic pull between you, a connection that was both so thrilling yet unbelievably terrifying. and the unforgettable nights you shared became an addiction—worse than nicotine, you realised.

safe to say that fyodor was different. well, he was smart, intuitive, and oh, that half-lidded gaze of his, those captivating amethyst eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul, made it nearly impossible to resist. the way he smirked when he facetimed you, so confident and smooth, drew you in like a cat to catnip.

fyodor had a unique talent for making you cum over and over again without even being in the same room. his silk smooth voice filling your senses with his soft moans and luscious whispers. you could almost feel him there with you, as if he knew every secret spot that would send you twirling into ecstasy.

“just for me, darling,” he would murmur in the dead of night, calling you while you lay there, helplessly aroused, stroking his deliciously lengthy pale cock while whispering sweet nothings that seemed to tangible your desire. it was intoxicating.

and oh the thrill of being sprawled out in front of him through the lens, just for his viewing pleasure, became a nightly ritual. you’d slowly slide the lavender dildo he gifted between your slick-coated folds, moaning softly as you fucked yourself just for him, eagerly awaiting his reaction. every squirm, every gasp was a performance, and the way he admired your every inch of you, the way his gaze burned into you through the screen, made it all the more exhilarating. you loved how pretty he made you feel, how desired, and how alive.

and then came the darker undertones—the realisation that the line between thrill and danger was razor-thin, especially when your connection to him spiraled deeper into obsession.

you were obsessed—completely consumed by him, and you could swear he felt the same. fyodor was always there, filling the void with his words and voice. until one day… he just disappeared.

no warning, no goodbye. nothing, just… gone.

he deleted all of his accounts, his number, everything. every trace of him, wiped clean, deactivated as if he had never existed in the first place. you thought it was some kind of sick game at first. a punishment, maybe? but for what ? you didn’t know. all you knew was the desperate, gnawing need for answers.

you spent days—weeks, really—searching for any trace of him, some clue, something that would explain why he’d vanish so suddenly. but there was nothing. it was as if he had planned this all along, like a predator keeping his prey hooked, dangling just out of reach before vanishing into the void, leaving you stranded in the wake of your obsession.

you’d find yourself obsessively refreshing your streams, hoping his username would pop up in the chat as it used to, scouring your dms, wondering if maybe he was still watching you, lurking among the anonymous fans. you caught yourself imagining him behind every new follower, every message, wondering if he was there, pulling the strings once again.

three months of silence. three agonizing months of waiting, hoping, wondering. were you in love with him? or was it just a pure obsession? you couldn’t tell anymore. all you knew was that he had burrowed into your life, into your mind, so deeply that it felt like you were drowning without him.

your late-night streams had become hollow rituals, devoid of the thrill they once held. the gifts he’d sent were still there, tucked away, untouched since his disappearance. you couldn’t bring yourself to use them anymore, not without him. Not without his voice in your ear, telling you how perfect you were, how beautiful you looked writhing on camera just for him.

"you're shaking my dear are you okay"

his smooth, silky voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts. okay? you're anything but okay. is he even kidding right now? you almost had a heart attack, convinced someone was about to kill you.

your hands tremble, mind racing with dozens of thoughts, questions colliding together in your head. but against all logic, despite the overwhelming fear, you can’t help but feel the familiar rush of dopamine hit your brain receptors.

you missed him. and you know exactly what that means.

he’s right there, sitting on your bed—flesh and bone, not just pixels on a screen. it’s almost too much to process. you hate to admit it, but he’s even more handsome in person. those amethyst eyes are sharper, more intriguing, and his smirk… makes your stomach twist with longing.

then, his voice again hypnotic, like velvet draping over your hearing senses:

“i’m sorry, myshka. i didn’t mean to disappear like that... i had some things to take care of.” he pauses, eyes searching your face for any sign that might let him push further. but all he finds is panic, disbelief, and hurt.

“i—i don’t understand,” you stammer, desperately searching for a way to make sense of it all.

his hand reaches out, brushing your cheek lightly. the touch makes you flinch, but it’s not out of fear. it's the way your body responds—a pink hue spreading underneath your cheeks colouring them so adorably.

“you’re trembling, my dear” he whispers, thumb trailing down to your lips. “but not just from fear, is it? no… there's something else, isn’t there, darling?”

you should push him away. you should scream. but instead, you stay frozen, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb presses lightly against your lower lip, and you can see the striking plum violet and mauve lines in his amaranthine irises.

“you’re so beautiful without the mask,” he continues, leaning slightly forward. “i’ve missed this. missed you.”

oh shit! the mask—how did you forget it? the realisation hits you like a truck, leaving you feeling achingly exposed, like a delicate flower stripped of its petals. is this okay? will he hurt you?

his other hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around your side delicately, drawing you closer to him.

“i’ve been watching you, myshka,” he smiles, that damn smile that you've always wondered when you'll see again. “every night, waiting for the right moment to return.”

“did you think about me?” he asks, eyes narrowing playfully, as if he already knows the answer. you swallow hard, not sure if you should be honest with him or not.

“y-yes,” you finally admit, of course, you thought about him—every single day and night. his essence always lingered in your mind like an addiction, one you couldn’t quite shake off. every moment of your life was coloured by the hope of his return.

“tell me what you want, myshka,” his eyes roam over your nightgown, captivated by how your lavender bra hugs your breasts so perfectly from underneath. tracing the cascade of your hair down your shoulders, with a few wisps caught teasingly between the soft curves of your cleavage. “i can give you everything and more.”

oh lord—the way he says it makes your vision blurs with lust, you want to tell him, you want to confess all of your darkest desires, the fantasies you’ve spun in the solitude of your room. but words fail you. instead, your body leans instinctively toward him, humming in delight, craving the contact you’ve denied yourself for so long.

“the little toys i sent you are gathering dust, aren’t they? i think it’s time we put them to use.”

your breath catches in your throat. how did he know? you hesitate for a second before rushing to your closet, fingers trembling slightly as you open the drawer and pull out the baby blue handcuffs and the magenta vibrator he gifted you months ago his smirk widens as he watches you, an amsuing glint speading into his eyes.

“good choice,” he murmurs, stepping closer to take the items from your hands, smirking viciously as he holds the cuffs like a trophy. “let’s see how well you can follow my orders tonight.”

slowly, he begins to undress you, hands exploring every inch of your soft skin as if you're a forbidden fruit in eve's garden. he traces his fingers along your arms, down your hips, then to your neck down your spin and the cloudy pillows of your ass. each touch makes your skin pebble, radiating flames under his tender touches. you’re not just his toy, you’re his masterpiece.

once he’s stripped you down to nothing, he leads you to the bed and gently handcuffs your wrists to the headboard, securing you in place. you're quite aware that there's a thin line between excitement and anxiety but right now? all you can think about is what he is planning.

as he finishes, he swoops down, lips brushing yours so teasingly, before pressing his cold ones against yours in a gentle chaste kiss growing handsier by each second, causing you to let out a muffled hum of surprise.

he pulls back watching your heaving chest as you catch him holding your kitsune mask, a vicious smile curling on his lips. “you know I can’t have my favorite little fox completely unmasked,” he teases, lifting it toward your face, placing the mask over your features to obscure your identity as he holds a camera in his other hand aiming it at you, its lens capturing the erotic moment. “i want to remember every exquisite detail,” he grouses erotically—placing the camera on your night stand before slowly taking off his clothes.

your breath hitches as you take in his details through the mask. yes, you've seen him naked multiple times before, but it was always behind the camera lenses, never this close. his body is pale and perfectly structured, and oh god, his waist—how is he that beautiful?

your gaze drifts lower, eyes widening as they lock onto his hard cock, the tip glistening and teasingly brushing against your slick folds. it’s a sight that sends a jolt of desire pooling low in your stomach. you want him—need him—right now.

he spreads your folds with two digits, looking eagerly with darkened amethyst orbs as your delicious juices drool from your empty hole.

“oh... myshka, your pussy is so much softer than i imagined.” he purrs as he watches your glossy lips part slightly letting out muffled mewls, the mask frames your features, leaving your mouth exposed for him. he tilts his hips ever so slightly letting the tip of his cock glide against your buzzing clit.

“mnff...fedya,” here comes your needy whimpers that he adores.

he lowers himself, so that his mouth is just a few inches from your cunt, warm breath faning against your wet puffy folds making your cunt gush more and more of its sweet juices.

he begins with teasing licks, the hot muscle swirling around your sensitive clit in circular motion, each flick makes your back arch and hips instinctively buck up yearning for more. a muffled 'mmff' vibrates against your hot sex, as he tastes the sweet honey seeping from between your folds like you’re the sweetest nectar.

“mmff myshka, can you stop moving so much?” he murmurs against your heat core, the vibrations adding to the delicious torment. his fingers dive deeper, curling inside you as he continues to work your clit with his mouth, the combination making you moan loudly, while struggling against your restrained hands, you desperately try to break free, yearning to let your fingers tug on his luscious black silk hair.

“please… more,” you gasp, unable to contain the desperation in your voice as he responds with a low, pleased growl, redoubling his efforts to bring you close enough to your sweet release.

but just as you’re about to cum, he suddenly pulls away. a desperate whimper escapes your lips, the pleasure abruptly cut off as you watch him with wide eyes, feeling the emptiness where he was just a moment ago.

“not yet, myshka,” he chuckles, licking his lips to taste the ghost of you.

without warning, he rams inside you, filling you to the hilt in one swift motion. a sharp gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you, the sudden intrusion makes your vision blurry, stars flashing behind your eyes making every nerve in your body tingle with pleasure. as you feel yourself close to your release again, your walls clenching around him instinctively.

“черт! тебе так хорошо.” (fuck! you feel so good.) he groans as he begins to thrust deep, each swing of his hips sending ripples of ecstasy radiating from your core. “this tight little pussy of yours..ngh..is going to become my new obsession..mff”

you mull over his words as they feed at all parts of your hollow heart, making you feel butterflies in your stomach mingling with the coil tightening in your lower abdomen.

lost in a haze of blissful moans and blurred vision, you barely notice fyodor's hand gliding over to the vibrator. the moment he presses it against your swollen clit, a scream escapes your lips, a sound of pure ecstasy that mingles with his deep, satisfied moan. the buzzing sensation resonates deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire body. as his heavy shaft with veins straining against the skin, finds new pleasure points inside you that he commits to memory eager for the next time you make love.

heat coils between you as his furrowed brows speak of pure, concentrated desire. each deep stroke reshapes your walls, molding them to the weight and curve of his delicious lengthy cock, making sure no one else could ever fill you up the way he does. when your eyes meet, it’s like gazing into a galaxy of forbidden stars—his eyes telling you of a dark beauty of pleasure that pulls you higher and higher and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass blends with your moans, each collision driving you closer to the intoxicating edge of bliss.

you’re absolutely lost in the art of it, the way his body claims yours, painting pleasure across every nerve until the world outside dissolves and all that remains is just the two of you.

his breath comes in ragged, desperate gasps, tension in his muscles like the pull of a bowstring, ready to spill inside you at any given moment. he swells, every stroke only adding more fuel to the release building between you. the world narrows to this moment, the brush of his sweaty skin against your heaving chest, the pulse of pleasure echoing through your body with the buzzy rhythm of the vibrator pressed on your clit drives you straight away to your own release.

it's like stars colliding in the vastness of a violet sky, you shatter together. his name spills from your lips in a cry, body arching as pleasure crashes over you, flooding your senses. his hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he drives deeper, groaning low in his chest. and then you feel the heat of his release blooms inside you, filling you in waves as your walls pulse around him, pulling him in even tighter.

your bodies tremble in the afterglow, the world spinning and slowing until only the soft hum of breath and the fading echoes of pleasure remain. you glance at his irresistible eyes, seeing the remnants of that celestial fire, a shared intimacy that lingers even as the stars dim and the night settles into quiet.

he reaches over with a steady hand, grabbing the camera set just beyond the edge of the bed, with a smirk curling his lips, he flicks it off, the soft click signaling the end of the recording before he leans closer, fingers brushing against your cheekbone as he slowly pulls the mask off your face and gently frees your aching wrists from the restraints.

“beautiful,” he murmurs with a thick russian accent, his breath mingles with yours for a heartbeat before he closes the gap, capturing your lips in another deep, passionate kiss, mouth moving erotically against yours with the same fervor that had driven him moments before, as if he’s still chasing the aftershocks of pleasure through the taste of your glossy now-swollen lips.

“moya lyubov, you're designed just for me.”

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr

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ms-demeanor · 4 months ago

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But. Like. The lady who ran the newspaper expected me to work 20 hour shifts to get pages turned atound for production and let that columnist keep touching me even after i told her it made me uncomfortable and paid me minimum wage with deposits that were sometimes weeks late. She fired me by simply stopping sending me pages and never communicated that I didn't have a job anymore and I had to send large Bastard to collect the last four hundred dollars she owed me.

Coffee shop dude was directly abusive while mostly acting like a nice guy and if you called him out on his shit or asked not to be scheduled with people who problems for you, he punished you by cutting your hours. He *also* engaged in wage theft, insisting that all employees had to complete their closing tasks in 20 minutes or risk having their hours cut, so you just clocked out for your last hour of work. I had a coworker there who literally died of exhaustion (passed out, hit his head, aspirated vomit) as he mopped the floor while clocked out on his twelfth day in a row of work. He was twenty-two. Before I got too injured to keep working there, we closed together six nights a week. He liked to clean to the gladiator soundtrack and he wanted to be a director.

The gun shop had us clock out before the managers did the count, and nobody could leave until the guns were tallied; we closed at 9 and there were multiple days that i was locked in there until 1 with no pay and no food while the managers failed to find their ass with both hands. I watched as my coworkers (and some of my managers) *repeatedly* went out of their way to complete straw sales for white people while trying to prevent black and chicano customers from buying guns.

The first coffee shop was run by people laundering cocaine money from their club. We all joked that the severance package was half your last paycheck and a kick in the ass because they never fully paid anyone they fired and they banned you from the ship for a length of time that was proportional to what they owed you. They stiffed me forty bucks and i got banned for a week, there was a guy who was banned for life and they owed him over nine thousand dollars for several months that he was the only employee and worked the shop for eighteen hours a day. They paid less than minimum wage, they paid under the table, and when the manager smashed out the patio door in a fit of pique, they didn't explain shit and left us to deal with explaining the "break in" to the cops.

IDK maybe bosses are just bad.

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dr-flipflops · 17 days ago

Note

Noa steps in Wills office after their shift with a bottle of water and a cereal bar, giving him an exhausted smile.

"so... how're you doing? want one too?"

-@from-the-owls-nest (for when you have time and it's not middle of the night anymore *stares at u*)

OOC: Acceptable?

*Will looks up, equally tired, he takes the food and water with a smile*

Thanks, this is about the first bits of food I've seen in 9 hours that hasn't been in vomit.

*Will tries for a chuckle, but it comes out defeated, he sighs and runs a hand through his unkempt curls. Will looks like he's seen better days, deep dark bags line his eyes and his normally golden skin was looking ashen and pale. Will looked dead on his feet, the infirmary and Nico, and just general issues (cough cough, memory cough)*

Gods- thanks for this, and checking up on me, I didn't realize how dependant I had become on Nico. Always expecting him there, around the corner with a teasing smirk, kind eyes and stern health reprimanding...

*The words are soft and mumbled as if he is simply thinking aloud, he shakes his head and snaps out of his consuming thoughts of Nico. Will smiles brightly at Noa, and gestures him to sit down*

Sorry about that, you look tired, are you alright? Nevermind Noa, you looking absolutely exhausted, after this I order you to go take a nice long nap.

#a #Noa <3 #long post #will solace #will solace rp #pjo

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superstarcherrycolagirl · 5 months ago

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taken care of

benny cross x fem!reader/ 1k words

idea: your leaving work, but you’re being bothered. luckily you have company

tw: harassment, swearing, threats

notes: ok so this has been an idea of mine for A WHILE so i tried writing it out. think of that scene from the bikeriders after benny ended up in the hospital after literally getting clocked and the whole squad pulled up to the bar after that, it’s basically that but way more chill!! that scene was so hot ngl so i wanted to write about it:)) here it is

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

being benny’s girl doesn’t only mean gaining the mutual respect of the club and its members, but shown the same amount of care and protection as the bikers themselves.

you were just trying to leave work and go home, the 9-5 work shift literally left you exhausted, but this college boy would not leave you alone!

“can i take you for a ride sweetheart? i can take you back to mine to really get to know you” his obnoxious masculinity oozing out of him. he waited for a whole hour your shift to end, literally eye-fucking you the entire time as he kept shifting in his pants. what an animal you thought, you wanted to yell at him and humiliate him in front of other library goers so he can learn some manners. but you kept calm, you didn’t need to be scared.

“oh no thank you i’m alright! my ride’s just outside” you declined politely, which took a lot of strength for you to.

you’re walking out the door, ponytail swaying back and forth. “aw c’mon lil lady don’t be so shy! i can show you a real good ti-“ the boy couldn’t even finish his stupid sentence before stopping abruptly. the loud roar of rumbling engines sounding filled up the silent library. you’ve never seen anyone get so pale in the face.

you walk outside the door, the boy to follow, to see the fear-striking pack of bikers waiting outside the library doors.. waiting for you. you could spot wahoo, corky, and cockroach near each other, snacking on some gum and cigarettes. funny sonny was saying some shit to zipco and cal, whatever it was made them all send death glares to the shaking boy right next to you. johnny and bruice were checking out this boy, wondering if he would even stand a punch if he tried to lay a hand on you. and benny, bike stand kicked up and leaning back with a cigarette in hand, looked up right at you with nothing but love in his eyes.. and the slightest want to kill this filthy pig beside you on site.

you walk down to the club calmly, your flowy white blouse moving against your deep blue jeans, smiling sweetly at your family as you walked up to benny to peak him on the mouth. that poor boy knew he was screwed just by witnessing how all the bikeriders demeanors shifted to your presence. he was on the verge of vomiting once they looked back at him.

as you were getting on benny’s bike you took a glance up at the terrified boy, wondering why the hell he was still here. you were gonna say something to him, until you were interrupted.

“you wanna ride pretty boy? s’that what you wanted to ask?” benny said in a cocky tone, but you could hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest.

“n-no sir.. i just wanted to talk to this nice lady over her-“ that’s when you popped in quickly, but it did much more damage.

“oh so that’s why you wanted to to jump my bones a’few moments ago hm? to say somethin’ nice t’me?” you said it in your sweet tone of voice, but the adrenaline rising inside of you drenched your words in sarcasm. that caught everyone’s attention so fast, and in an instant everything became so loud.

“s’that so pretty boy?” johnny chimed in first “well you might need some help from us.. to learn how to treat a lady with real manners” his knuckle punching rings tightening tightening into a fist. “we’ll take care of ya’”

“yeah i’ll take care a’him by knocking his fuckin’ teeth down his throat!” cal yelled out, you could steam a teapot on his head from how riled up he was, he almost jumped that poor boy if it weren’t for zipco holding him back by the arm.

funny sonny loudly sounded his engine to make this boy shriek, which led some others to join in with cackles. “c’mon pinko! show us what you got, don’t be shy!” zipco chirped with a guttural laugh, increasing the blush and sweat on the embarrassed college boys’ face. that boy looked so frightened that you though he was gonna cry. ashamed. humiliated.

you could feel benny’s muscles tensing up against your chest, how he was just moments away from seconding cals’ idea. but he stayed right where you were, right where he was needed to keep you safe. everyone was there to keep you safe.

“get the fuck outta here you scum-fuck!” “don’t shit yourself on the way out pretty face!” wahoo and corky vulgarly gleamed, and that left the boy with one more glance at you, trying to send you a smile. not before benny sounded his engine roughly, a back the fuck off kind of signal that almost knocked they boy off his feet. and with that he ran down the block and turned the corner, knowing you wouldn’t see his face again anytime soon.

as everyone was gearing up while laughing, benny softly spoke to you. “you alright baby?” “i’m alright benny..thank you honey” he didn’t even need to say anything, giving the side your right thigh a good squeeze before kicking up his stick. you smiled against his back, that’s gonna need a good wash.

“you’re okay sweetheart, we’ll take care of ya’” that was johnny’s voice that rang. you and benny turned to him, relieved looks on both of your faces. “i mean it doll, always” he was firm with his, and you could only smile back at him.

and with that, you and the dozens of bikes beside you took off down the road.

what a way to call it a day.

#EEEEEEEK #yappathon #i love being a freak #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader #tom hardy #johnny from the bikeriders

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merrybloomwrites · 6 months ago

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Passing Contact - 1D x Reader

Summary: Y/N's not a fan of physical touch, but that changes when she meets the boys of One Direction.

Word Count: 860

AN: Welcome to the first of 9 weeks of ficlets! Come back every Monday for a little fic of Reader x One Direction! There will be 2 more Reader x full band, as well as a fic or two for each of the individual boys.

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From the beginning, the boys of One Direction were very comfortable being close to one another physically. Harry was the one to start the group hugs and big cuddle sessions on the couch, but eventually all five had grown used to it, and had even begun to initiate. Maybe it was being away from their homes and families, maybe it was the stress of the competition, but sharing physical touch was never weird between them.

When One Direction was planning for their first ever tour, you’d auditioned to be their drummer, never thinking you’d hear back after submitting your reel to them. You were young, you were a girl, and you had no real experience touring on such a large scale. You later learned that all those things had counted against you, but then management realized it wouldn’t be the worst to have a young girl in the band. Something about being even more marketable, appealing to even more people.

Yes, you were there to catch the eye of teenage boys and make them fans. You don’t love that, but hey, you’re in the band. They wouldn’t have hired you if you couldn’t play, so you take it as a compliment.

Louis, Liam, Zayn, Niall and Harry quickly became your friends. You spent as much time with them as you could, often hanging in their dressing room instead of with the rest of the backing band. Within a month of tour, there had been rumors of you being in a relationship with each one of them. Of course, none of these rumors had any validity to them.

Not only were there rules in place forbidding you to date any of them, but the boys respected you as a band mate too much to make a move. They also noticed how you often shied away from any physical contact, so they always made sure to respect your personal space as well. Plus, you were all too exhausted from concerts nearly every day to even think about starting any kind of relationship.

The day after the first leg of the tour ended with a show in Belfast, the six of you made your way south again, to stay in a vacation house owned by Niall’s uncle. While you would have preferred a warm tropical destination rather than Ireland in January, no one was up to travel more than an hour at the moment.

That first night everyone went to bed early, completely exhausted.

The second night, however, saw everyone well rested and ready to party. While you and Harry technically weren’t of age, that didn’t matter. The other four could easily supply the party with more alcohol than you could possibly consume.

You guys went through the many stages of partying, starting with the loud singing and laughter, followed by dancing on tables and thinking drinking games would be a good idea, finally ending with all of you piled together on the living room floor telling deep dark secrets.

Which leads to you spilling more about your family life than you’d ever planned to tell, including how you basically raised yourself and learned how to play instruments to find a way out as soon as possible. You mentioned how you never really received physical comfort as a child and that’s why it feels so foreign to you now.

Of course you regretted your verbal diarrhea the next day, and you hoped maybe the boys had drank too much to remember.

But they did remember. And slowly, over the next few weeks, things began to shift. It started with Harry, as these things always did. He began wrapping his arm around you, lightly to give you space to move away, but you found yourself drifting closer instead.

Next was Niall, always giving high fives and fist bumps, even the occasional hair ruffle.

Then Liam began giving you piggy back rides around the venues, effortlessly carrying you around, his arms holding you tight to make sure he didn’t drop you.

Zayn, the most quiet of the group, was often found hanging on the couch watching videos on his phone during downtime. You’d seek him out when the others were being too much. He slowly drifted closer to you as you watched his phone together, and eventually you found that you’d be pressed close together, often with his arm around your shoulders.

Louis was the last, but definitely not the most subtle. By the time he caught on, he noticed how you were now accepting of these gentle touches, the reminders that there are people who care about you. So he went all in, hugging you at least once a day, resting his chin on your shoulder, even pressing quick kisses to the top of your head like you’d seen him do with his sisters.

Each of these little touches warmed you up inside, healed something you didn’t know was broken.

The first time you got pulled into a cuddle pile was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It was on that bed, surrounded by this group of boys you call your brothers, that you finally felt whole. And finally learned what familial love should feel like.

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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to share the rest with you!

An: part 2 here!

#one direction fanfiction #one direction x reader #harry styles x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #zayn malik x reader #liam payne x reader #niall horan x reader

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months ago

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ON THE SUBJECT OF A MARCH 1ST UPDATE LIVESTREAM.

so due to newly-employed circumstances, i most likely won't be able to stream my exploration of the update until the Sunday after it drops - March 3rd, likely around 10 am pst.

im not gonna ask anyone to wait because that's unreasonable and absurd, However! I am curious:

#im asking instead of cancelling it outright #because i know how fun it can be to see someone explore/discover/watch something youve already enjoyed #plus. if i may so bold as to say!#who knows! maybe some of you actually Want to hear me speculate and go bonkers On Mic <3 #absolutely unprompted #marked for deletion #welcome home #Why Am I Waiting Until The Third?#it will most likely be my first day off!#i dont wanna explore the update when im exhausted after a 9 hour shift lmfao #and i don't want to explore it in the morning before work when im on a crunch #i want Time! i want Energy! im gonna need all the brainpower i can cobble together!#oh man the upcoming full day of Active Avoidance #i might actually turn off my phone lmfao #bc muscle memory is gonna take me to tumblr & That has burned me so many times...#im not gonna use tumblr im not gonna use discord #im gonna queue up youtube videos so that i dont risk seeing anything on the homepage #babey im Hunkering Down!#i will simply spend my free time after work with myself. crochet. doodle. sit and stare at a wall #sob viciously bc im missing out #its interesting. so much of my life has been Being Late To The Proverbial Party & Missing Out On Experiences.#and by interesting i mean it makes me violent. sigh. but we deal! what else is there to do!

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toovaeloe · 4 months ago

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bus stop 𝝑𝝔 “If I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

suguru geto x genderneutral reader

no curse au

You’ve used the “I have a boyfriend” excuse and you may have just manifested one. Or a gorgeous man, at the very least

☁️🚏☁️

This was the worst, you think. Had to be punishment for something you did in a past life.

For starters, you were late for work. Was it your fault for staying up so late, giggling and doom-scrolling through mounds of mind numbing media? Yeah, maybe…

Let’s blame it on the weather. Your alarm didn’t wake you up after you silenced it. The neighbor’s dog wouldn’t stop barking through the night. But it’s not like you could tell your boss any off that.

So that’s why you raced out the door, haphazardly juggling your belongings in your arms. Wallet. Keys. Phone. Something else you couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Did you have everything? Probably; no time to check now. Only to find when you stomped on the brake and turned the key in the ignition…your car wouldn’t start.

Sputter…sputter…and then nothing.

Great.

There’s your late-to-work-excuse.

Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored the “maintenance needed” symbols that have been lighting up your dash like they want their own holiday. To be fair, time and money just weren’t things that came in abundance.

In any case, as you were sitting in that local garage enduring the mechanic babbling on about vehicle expertise junk you just couldn’t begin to understand, zoning out and nodding every few minutes with a halfhearted “hmm,” so it at least looked like you were absorbing information…you made note to at least revisit the idea of changing your smoke alarm’s batteries before it decided to turn on you, too.

But that was last week.

7-9 business days.

That’s how long until your car would be up and running again. Apparently, according to the mechanic, you were lucky it was even that. Apparently. Which meant you needed some other means of transportation to and from work and such.

Lucky you had the local bus service, right?

WRONG.

They were always late, but you still felt the need to get to the stops on time, lest you have a repeat of 5 days ago. (You showed up only 2 minutes late and were left behind at the store. Had to wait for an hour for your friend to get off her shift and come pick you up.) You highly doubted it, but what with the way the world was shitting on you right now, it wasn’t out of the question. And the city’s money obviously wasn’t going towards public transportation— they could qualify as garbage trucks if they really needed them with how trashed they were. Mystery sticky patches on the seat, gum underneath. The inconsolable children whining their heads off. That was kind of cute at first, but now it made you want to throw yourself out the window. The whole thing was just the experience that you could expect from a free public transportation system.

And why was it so rainy this month??? Ugh.

But what could you do but make do with what you had? Complaining definitely wasn’t making your shoes any less waterlogged. Be grateful, or some shit like that.

That evening, however, as you were waiting twenty minutes past the time the bus was supposed to arrive at the stop after an exhausting work day…you were just so fed up with everything. With the puddle water soaking through your shoes, with the way you had to stand because the benches were damp…with this rando-guy who had walked up next to you that you were half sure kept looking at you. To say the least, it only served to annoy you in your already sour mood.

You were willing to just ignore it. Until he stepped closer.

“Hey I’m uh…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around.”

Oooohh boy.

“Yeah, yeah, it is you. I’ been taking the bus sometimes. Usually I’m riding my motorcycle but uh, not today.”

Did you ask?

“Thought I’d drop by.”

The public bus stop. (???)

“What’s yer name, toots?”

Yeah no. Go back to the 1950’s and maybe that’d work there. You’d rather lick the mystery sticky shit off the bus seat. You could pick up a date 10x better without opposable thumbs.

All of the above is what you would’ve liked to say. Alas, you were tired. You didn’t want trouble that would take more energy than it was worth. So before he could go any further, you just coined the foolproof line.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Lie. You didn’t, but it was the first thing that came to mind. And if that didn’t make him lose interest, then he must really be a pathetic asswipe.

Sadly, he was. In terms of getting the hint to shut up, the guy looked barely deterred; offended even, as he prattled on.

“Well why were you acting so into me then, huh?” You definitely didn’t. You don’t even know this dude.

“I wasn’t even going for you.” He definitely was.

“You’re—“ X, Y, and Z. Just because his game is trifling?? You felt a headache coming on. And maybe a bout of anxiety. People are crazy, and the last thing you wanted was for this needless situation to escalate into something dangerous.

The entire mess was occurring just as Suguru was making the commute to work on the same street. But he found himself slowing nearly to a stop when he caught sight of you.

How could a person look so exhausted; hair extra frizzy, floccose from the humid rain, clothes soaked, droplets of the downpour dribbling onto your cheeks and blinked away from your lashes…and still so breathtaking? Or perhaps that was part of your beauty in this moment. You looked every bit done with the day, but who knew when- if— he’d ever see you again? He’d be stupid, a fool to not at least try to strike up a conversation with you. He’d be…

…Probably like that idiot.

A sulky moue twisted at his expression as he witnessed the disgraceful way this loser was fumbling. Oh dear. His approach lacked so much grace, so much respect…it was really just distasteful. You didn’t deserve that. And frankly, he didn’t think he deserved to watch you be treated like that when he knew he could do so much better.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

A merry sounding tone directed your way had your head sharply whipping to the source. A tall dark haired man you’ve never seen before; layered in a gray colored quarter zip and dark slacks, you think. His approach was casual and relaxed, a subtly jovial yet inherently guileful grin tugging at his lips. He even waved to you like an old friend. His entire facade was so convincing you considered for a moment if you had known him from somewhere and simply forgotten.

No, you really wouldn’t have forgotten a face like that. Eyes like those. A presence so contrasting of itself and yet so cohesive in its own way, if you had to try and describe it. Just a damn beautiful man. With eyebrows that were beginning to crease on his forehead.

Ooh, you were staring.

More than that, he was giving you a pointed look that you didn’t notice while drooling over the poor guy. Unfortunately for you, slo-mo’s only happened in movies, and in reality you just looked like an ogling dork. But you didn’t have time to dwell on your embarrassment when he was quite obviously urging you to play along with this illusion he was creating.

And so you did.

“Oh- hi! No worries,” You insisted in an awkward attempt to adapt to this new charade.

“‘Hasn’t been that long,” though your reaction to his presence wasn’t as well-articulated, it was convincing enough.

The other dude looked to be at least somewhat suspicious, and might’ve spoken on it if wasn’t for Geto’s scrutinizing gaze and a simple raise of his brow.

“Can I help you?” And just for good measure, he’d wrap his arm around you, sliding his hand into your coat pocket as if he’s done it a million times before to pull you closer against him. Whatever glare this ravenette man was glowering down the length of his nose at this guy with must’ve been scarring, because he murmured some half-assed excuse before scampering away.

You idly wondered how’d he get wherever he was going without the bus.

Or maybe you’d have more time to think about it if your brain wasn’t short-circuiting, acutely aware of the unworldly attractive man’s hand resting just over your hip.

“Sorry,” Geto spoke after a few beats, languidly retracting his arm from your coat and back to his side. “You looked like you were about to burst a blood vessel entertaining him. I hope I didn’t overstep. Y’know, with your boyfriend and all.” He had to have overheard you earlier.

But the way he spoke made it sound as if he doubted that fact, glancing to either side of you as if to say That is nowhere in sight..? without being so overtly rude. Or maybe he just wasn’t all that apologetic.

“That-! Yeah,” You pepped with a nervous pitter of laughter, “yeah…it’s not a problem, thanks.”

Your hand gravitated to the zipper of your jacket, absentmindedly fiddling with it as you frantically thought up an at least half decent explanation. One that wouldn’t make you sound more clumsy than you already felt.

“He’s not real, so he won’t mind.”

Yeah, real smooth. What was that you said; about being able to pick up a date without opposable thumbs? You’d need at least ten pairs of hands.

But Suguru didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his grin widened into something toothy and almost boyish, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that added an innocent charm to his otherwise elegant features. He found it endearing.

“Perfect,” His response was coupled with a discreet chuckle.

“Don’t feel obligated,” He’d continue as he reached to the side of you. So close to brushing your shoulder, it made your breath hitch. Though truly he was reaching around you, sharply tearing a flier from the side of the bus stop and pulling a pen from one of his pockets. If you were paying more attention you’d have noticed the glint of impish amusement in his umber eyes that led one to believe that action was more deliberate than he let on.

Still, he’d make quick work of jotting down a phone number and the address of a nice restaurant he’s been meaning to try with Satoru— but plans change. “but I’d like to take you out. I was on my way over to ask you, anyhow.”

He offered the page to you; his handwriting as sumptuous and calligraphic as you would’ve expected his penmanship to be; in the margins of some tacky ad for a lawn mowing service. As you went to accept the paper, however, he rescinded it from reach. All whilst drawing closer so that his piercing dark amber eyes held your gaze with an unwavering intensity. The kind that made your stomach do flips and stole your breath away.

“And for the record,” He spoke quietly but poised; a conspiratorial whisper for only you, him, and the rain to witness. “if I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

There wasn’t time to react; he was already slipping the page into your pocket, withdrawing to a comfortable proximity all the while waving you off and wishing you well with a kind smile, disappearing someplace else.

You didn’t even catch his name.

At least your bus was here.

a/n: I had something to say but I totally forgot 😭

OH but I did add an upcoming section to my masterlist so you can see my works in the works if you’d like! 🤍 always open to ideas too

Dear god I crave geto with that loose low bun that’s barely a bun kind of hairstyle. Ykwim???

ty for reading 🤍🤍🤍 love you have a lovely lovely day or night

edit: OMG THATS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY. I kept accidentally writing bust stop instead of bus stop as I wrote this. So, sorry if you bust

☁️☁️☁️

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lbxbx · 8 months ago

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Blackmail | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.

“He’s probably late over something stupid.” One of the hairstylists huffs blowing her fringe off of her face.

Nothing new really, you’re so sick of hearing her whine all the time, as if she’s not aware of how hectic the schedule is especially during their tour, not only the schedule is all over the place, they usually get sick and exhausted during this time so they do deserve to rest for an hour longer at least.

Of course you rolled your eyes and sometimes you would actually leave the entire room the second she starts whining and radiating negative energy to the entire staff, once she starts nagging, the energy shifts right away since over half of the staff don’t like her.

You were able to manage though and got used to it since you’ve been working with her for a couple years now, you figured out a way to reduce your chances of a headache. The moment she starts whining you take your airpods out of your pocket and put them on, blasting the music really high up and totally caring less if you couldn’t hear people around you.

Your job was quite sensitive, it took you years to get to where you are right now, you had to be there all the time whether it was broadcasts, practice or even listening parties or stupid birthday parties, you were always there with them.

And being with them for a few years now made you all really close, you understand their characters very well and it’s nothing like what people see on TV or their phone screens, they’re still human after all, and most importantly, they’re still men.

It’s four in the afternoon and time is ticking, the concert is supposed to be started by 9 in the evening and they’re still not here, and there was still a sound check and practice that had to be done first, you were really behind on schedule. You see the girls standing up at the same time which makes you lower down the music.

You hear footsteps coming from the end of the aisle and the staff are all on standby which means that they’re finally here, you take your spot near your station and put your airpods back in their case ready to start on Taehyung’s face.

Your work suited his face the best, of course you’d work on everyone’s face if they needed you to cover for someone, but you were really skilled and your talent suited his features the most. You’ve been working on Taehyung for a couple months now.

He gets into the room and yanks his top off, a view you’re used to the entire time whether it was him or any of them, he throws himself onto the chair and looks at you once before looking at his reflection in the mirror. “How are you?” A forced smile lingers on his face.

“Good, how are you?” You smile under your face mask, he nods his head. “Sleep deprived, but I should make it.”

“Fingers crossed.” You cross your own fingers and put a headband around his head to get his hair off of his face, he’s growing his hair really tall that he’s tying it in a man bun most of the time. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not planning to cut it off.”

He’s smarter than what people think, you giggle and nod. “I think it looks good on you.” You finally pump some primer onto your hand and start dabbing it onto the skin of his face.

You know people envy you for your job, and in fact you’re really happy with it because it pays really well along with other privileges. Their fans probably envy you the most and you know they look really good but you’re not attracted to any of them in any possible way. You spent so much time with them that they feel like colleagues.

After all, you and them work for the same company.

He takes his phone out and dims the brightness as he starts rapidly texting someone, his leg anxiously moving up and down, you’re used to that too, he must be nervous or tired.

It was peak summer and the weather was suffocating, the humidity and the heat together forced everyone to either wear less clothes or constantly keep the air conditioners turned on, but in your case you had to chose both because you cannot stand the heat, and you get really embarrassed if you got sweaty.

And honestly your top was driving you insane, it was really lose that it kept going down your shoulder, and whenever you would move to grab a brush or anything, it would slip down your shoulder and reveal your bra straps, you can’t keep holding onto it the entire time because you needed both your hands while you’re working, so once you adjust your top it would slip back down your shoulders in seconds.

It kept happening over and over before Taehyung notices, a smug smirk sits on his face before he runs his index finger over the collar of your shirt. “I love your shirt.” And you playfully slap his hand off and grab him by his chin to throw his head back, dabbing contour onto his jaw line. “Thank you, I got it when we were in Vegas last year.”

He moves his head down again to look at your plain white top as if it was his first time seeing this excessive amount of skin, he’s totally checking out your tits and cleavage that appeared whenever your shirt fell down your shoulder. “Oh I miss Vegas.”

“You do?” You push his head back again and he finally gives in. “I enjoyed shopping there.”

“Other magical stuff can happen in Vegas if you know what I mean.” He winks at you which makes you force a laugh. “Says the one who spent his entire time at the hotel.”

“Exactly.” He simply agrees before looking around making sure no one is listening before signaling you to come closer and you do, and he whispers. “I spent two nights with four different women.”

You’re used to so many weird things from the seven boys, but this is a first for you. You look around worriedly hoping that no one over heard him, your body tenses and you feel the need to escape this weird topic. “It was an iconic concert though.”

He scoffs before whispering again. “Girl fuck the concert, four different whores in two nights, it was an experience out of this world.”

“Taehyung.” Your voice stern and serious when you stop him. “You know this isn’t allowed, and you’re being a little loud right now.”

He waves his hand before he looks you dead in the eye. “We do this all the time, nothing is not allowed.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s always you men bragging about stuff like that.”

And he even dares to look around the room again. “There are 13 different women in this room right now, I slept with like.. 9 of them.”

Your shirt drops down your shoulder again but you’re too occupied working on the face in front of you that’s been blabbering nonstop about things that are making you severely uncomfortable. “This is totally not okay.”

“Says who.” His eyes pierce through your cleavage. “Sometimes girls beg me to sleep with them, and I can’t let them down can I?”

“You’re lying.” Your fingers start working faster still making sure the makeup that sits on his face is flawless, you’re wishing this conversation would end fast.

“I can show you if you want to.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge and you giggle thinking in your head that he’s totally joking, but he probably isn’t.

“No thanks I’m good.” You finally put on some lip tint and spray his face with a setting spray. “You’re good to go.”

He gets up but his eyes are still focused onto your chest, a little uncomfortable space between you two as he puts his hands in his pockets. “If you still don’t believe me go ask Namjoon or Jungkook, they spent the night with someone and they could probably tell you about it.”

“Why are you insisting on proving it to me?” You frown and walk a step back, “I’m not interested in finding out more.”

He shrugs carelessly. “I wanted to do you a favor, maybe the nine I fucked in this room can finally be ten, by then I’ll have only three left.” He laughs, totally proud of the joke he said, if that’s even considered a joke.

You scrunch your nose and hit his chest playfully, you kind of wished you did it harder though before you tell him. “Shut up, get away.”

He takes another step closer and hooks his finger to the collar of your shirt to reveal your chest that’s only covered with a bra.

“I know the female body really well, and I know women really like having their tits sucked, have you ever had your tits sucked before?”

This time you push him harder and hug your shirt closer to your chest. “You’re crossing the limits Taehyung. Get away.”

He laughs playfully and feigns innocence before tapping your nose. “You’re so cute do you know that? I’ll see you on the break, maybe you should do some thinking until then.”

Mira the hairstylist pushes Taehyung back onto his chair and takes the headband off of his head, you reorganize the makeup into the makeup bag when you overhear him asking her. “Are you feeling better today?”

Mira sounds flustered when she answers him. “Shut up.”

Maybe he did actually fuck over half of the girls around this room, this man is unbelievable.

As soon as the first part of the concert ended they moved backstage again to change and have their makeup retouched, you knew he was going to start the awkward talk again so you put your airpods on and pretended to be listening to music even if you weren’t. His eyes were piercing through your entire body the whole time.

He takes out his phone and opens the gallery to purposely open a video he filmed, he could see that you were watching his screen so he turns up the brightness on his phone.

In the video was a naked girl on her knees in front of him, her hands tied behind her back and her makeup was smudged, she was begging him to make her cum . And he was caressing her cheek and putting his thumb between her lips.

Your facial expressions change and you find yourself cringing, he looks at you and bats his eyelashes. “I told you.”

“Taehyung, this is wrong on so many levels.” You push his face to the side to work on his makeup.

“It isn’t, I promise.” He shakes his head. “I promise you no one will ever know. We can spend a couple nights together and that’s it, no strings attached.”

And you immediately refuse. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you close with any of the girls around here?” He asks and you’re a little taken back at his question. “Yeah?”

“Who?”

“Luna I guess.” You name one of the girls while shrugging and he scoffs, before exiting the video on his phone and scrolling through it to open another video.

In it you see Luna one of your closest friends in the company, blindfolded in a bed and Taehyung’s face is in between her legs as he’s eating her out. Is it really okay to mess around?

“You can’t be serious.” You gasp. “Is it only you or do the other guys do the same?”

“I don’t care, but if you have your eye on someone I could hook you two up together or something.” He shrugs and your jaw visibly drops. “You are unbelievable Kim Taehyung.”

“Wait until you try me in bed. I’m a fucking god.” He confidently speaks and you’re shocked, you’ve known the man for years but this is totally new for you. “Name someone else.” He exits the video on his phone before you shake your head. “No thanks, I don’t think I wanna see anymore.”

He locks his phone and leans his head back onto the chair while crossing his arms. “Just think it through and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“It seems to me like you’re the one begging for sex.” You force a smirk, his eyes meet yours for a couple seconds and he mirrors your smirk. “What if I was?”

“You’re getting nothing anyway.” You shrug. “You’re done, get up.”

“Oh I get it.” He remains in his seat. “Are you attracted to someone else? Let me guess, is it Jungkook? All women have something for that jerk.”

“I can’t deny he’s cute. But nope.”

“Is it Seokjin?” He tilts his head. “No, is it Jimin? Do you have a kink for cute guys or something?”

You roll your eyes and turn your head to walk away before he grabs your wrist. “Can you make my lips a little darker please?”

You look around trying to find the lip brush before dabbing some color onto his lips. “I’ve been told that I was good with my mouth, I just care about you so much I feel the need to make you experience it.”

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and put the lip brush away, he rises up on his feet while laughing, “Alright I promise I’m done, but I just want you to think it through, you won’t regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m changing my mind.” You clean up your station, he brushes his entire body against your back and whispers. “Will you be there tomorrow on the episode filming?”

“Well I guess unfortunately I’m always there.” You flinch in your spot and immediately take a step back. “Taehyung please stop touching me like that.”

“Alright.” He takes a step back and whispers. “I have a surprise for you tomorrow, I promise you will love it.”

“Then maybe I should call sick.” You look at his reflection through the mirror, he smirks and high key stares down at your ass, a second away from actually groping it in front of the entire staff and his band mates. “So I’m guessing you don’t like surprises.”

“From you? Nope.” You turn to face him, realizing you’re sandwiched between him and the mirror behind you, “May I?” You clear your throat, trying to find a way to get away from him, he stands next to you and gives you enough space to walk out of the room, his eyes still locked onto your ass, thank god it was summer time and thank god for biker shorts. Taehyung was suffering when he can clearly see the outline of your panties through your shorts and he can’t do anything about it.

Your rejection only makes him insist more and Taehyung grew up spoiled, people got him everything he wanted, and if they didn’t, he made sure to get it in his own way. So your rejection doesn’t really matter to him. He will have you eventually.

Even if you said no.

It’s the next day and you were already on the set, luckily one of the other stylist couldn’t make it so you had to work with Namjoon and Jimin instead. You could clearly see Taehyung’s eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror even when he’s three chairs away. You roll your eyes when he winks at you and he even dares to blow a cheap kiss. Your friend Leah who’s been working on his face rolls her eyes too and stands in the way.

“Do you wanna put your lenses on?” You ask Namjoon, he takes one look at the mirror and shrugs. “I don’t feel like putting lenses on, what do you think?”

“You’d look good both ways, but maybe I should put more eye makeup on if you’re not putting lenses on, is that okay?” You fish out another palette and show him the colors and he nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Of course. Y/N’s so good you have no idea.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and walks towards you. “You’re lucky she listens to you, I tried suggesting things to her but she kept saying no.”

Namjoon scoffs and grabs out his phone. “It’s because she’s smart.” Does he know about his friend?

“Don’t you want to know about the surprise?” He puts one of his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to you, his other hand picking onto your top, even sneaking a look under it. Practically there was nothing to see, the studio they were filming in was freezing cold so you had an extra layer on. You subtly push his hand away and look back at Namjoon’s face trying to finish him up. It was basically impossible with Taehyung distracting you.

He takes another step closer this time his body almost touching yours as he whispers. “I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot after we’re done filming, please come.”

You sigh and look at him, this can’t end up will and it won’t. His personality specifically scares you and you could swear the man was bipolar in some sort, when sometimes he’s all flirty and shit, and all of a sudden he claims this character that’s so innocent and cute which doesn’t really suit him.

“I’ll think about it.” You put the brush down and tap Namjoon’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, thank you.” He barely smiles and immediately leaves his chair to go and lay down on the nearest couch. You turn your head back to put the brush back into the makeup bag and Taehyung is still standing there. His eyes still scanning your entire body.

He’s a man with a plan, and honestly he knew exactly how he wants to have you. He scans you head to toe, your hair that he wants to pull on while he’s pounding into you uncontrollably, your lips and neck that he cannot wait to bite into. The way you bite your lip when you’re anxious or when you try to hide a laugh always ignited him.

Your chest, fuck he can easily tell the color of your bras and he even knows when you do your laundry, he knows exactly when are the days you wear on your sports bra, or the days you switched to your black bra that perfectly highlighted your tits. Although he grew to be a fan of your pastel pink bra that makes the color of your skin pop, he admires how the cups hug onto your big tits and this bra’s straps particularly keep sliding down your small shoulders.

He moves down to your waist and hips, the outline of your panties through your pants were like a gift from god to him, he would purposely drop things down on the floor just to watch you pick it back up, and those days would usually end up with him either hooking up with someone just to let it out of his system, or just jerk it off alone in his place.

Your juicy ass is going to be the death of him, he would sometimes sneak into the gym at the company just to watch you jog in your tights, satiating his eyes and scratching an itch inside him just to watch it jiggle right before his eyes.

During their tours he would constantly grab your handbag into his hotel room, making an excuse that your handbags look alike even when they aren’t even remotely close to being similar. He would lock the door right away and rummage through your clothes just to fish out all your panties and jerk off to them, one being around his cock and the other one near his nose and lips, sniffing and inhaling whatever is left onto them of your smell, even though they were washed, but he convinced himself that this is how you smell. It was really erotic.

And before you notice your bag missing, he would quickly take pictures of your panties just for him to keep and return them to your bag and switching it out with his. He lost control so many times and “Accidentally” Shot his seed onto your panties, and with the small span of time he had, he had to return them soiled into your handbag.

Which when you discovered it was already dried up, you huffed and the naïve you thought it was the bottle of your conditioner blew up or something, which if you think harder and open your eyes, it was only one soiled panty.

Taehyung had a goal, and growing up not being surrounded by many women in his life, he’s compensating but in an abnormal way, he has hooked up with over half the women who work in your company and it was your turn and he wanted to have you just so he can check your name on the list and tick it done.

“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer announces which snaps Taehyung out of his thoughts. “So did you pack for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, aren’t you excited?” You genuinely ask, you packed up your carry on the night before since you’re all heading to Osaka tomorrow for their tour. You can’t deny you love your job, you get to travel all over the world with them and you even get paid for it. But little do you know, there will be a price you have to pay.

“Oh yeah, even when it’s just for one day but I love Osaka.” He looks behind you and you follow his eyesight to find one of the stylists wearing short shorts that her lower butt cheek was clearly visible to everyone. You look back at Taehyung to see him still glancing at her ass with his head tilted. “Oh my god Taehyung, stop.”

He laughs and takes his phone out. “Come take a look. Her ass didn’t look like that when she was naked.” You debate for a second but you’re human after all and you’re a little curious, you stand next to him and watch him dig through a locked folder on his phone, scrolling up for a good two minutes before he finds the picture.

It was that stylist laying flat on the bed face down, her hand tied behind her back and her bare ass was sore read, clearly spanked and fucked until she passed out. And he was right, her ass didn’t look the same when she was naked. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that this isn’t wrong.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better I get their consent before I do anything.” He scrolls up again. “Wanna see something else? Look, this is her.”

He hands you one of his airpods and you put it on, and he starts a video of her down on her knees, her eyes blood red, clearly she was either drunk or high, and she was begging him to slap her on the face with his thumb into her mouth.

“Shit.. Please daddy, please spank me and make me yours.”

“Good girl, are you going to be daddy’s little whore and beg more?”

“Please spank your little whore on the face, it feels so fucking good when you do that, please spank me.”

And he slaps her hard on the cheek enough to make her hair fall on her face, but she immediately looks back at him and begs him to do it again and again and he does. And you can’t help but to notice the tip of his cock showing in the video. “How does getting slapped on the face feel good? I don’t get it.”

“Shh-“ He notices your voice getting a little higher and opens up another video. “You shouldn’t knock it till you try it, every girl I’ve been with said it felt amazing.”

“Do you think you would enjoy getting slapped on the face?” You ask, blinking your eyes a couple of times, he smirks and locks his phone. “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m willing to try it with you if you want to, maybe you can slap me on the face while you’re riding my dick, we’ll see if it feels good.”

Your face flushes at his explicit mentions of sex, you hit him on the arm and turn away from him, packing your kit into the makeup bag and taking a seat finally. And your flushed cheeks are considered as a good sign to him, he’s getting there and he’s slowly sinking his claws in to have you eventually.

The episode they’re filming took them a little over eight hours, you’re already packed and ready to leave and you hesitate actually going down to the parking lot, it’s almost an hour after filming and you’re not sure he’s still in the building or not.

The elevator stops at -1 and you make your way out, the entire floor is near empty and you can only spot around four cars parked around the floor, and all of them seem empty, except for the Genesis Suv that’s parked way back in the corner that flashes it’s lights repeatedly. It’s him.

You make your way there and reach your hand to the door handle and try to open it but it’s locked. Quite a trashy move of him to actually call you over and forget his car locked. You roll your eyes when he unlocks the car and you go inside. “What?”

“What?” He mocks you and locks his car again, “How was your day?”

“Taehyung just make it quick will you? We have a flight to catch tomorrow and I’m nowhere near ready—“ You’re interrupted by him shushing you and grabbing your purse away from you to put in the back seat. He reaches his entire body to the car floor and takes out a little box that’s wrapped in a tiny velvety ribbon. “This is my surprise for you.”

You’re intrigued. Your gaze meets his for a split second before you reject the box. “I can’t take gifts from you.”

He doesn’t even argue as he offers you the box again. “Hey, you don’t have to open it now if you want to.” He puts the box down onto your lap and leans his arm on the middle console. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning and you’ll tell me what you think, deal?”

You’re even more intrigued and you’re getting more curious to actually find out what’s inside, and why would he actually stay after schedule just to hand you this gift? You even shake the box while suspiciously maintaining eye contact with him which makes him smirk. You can only hear one thing clicking in the box and you can’t quite put a finger on it and figure out what it is?

“Alright, whatever. Are you going to drive me to my place or what?” You already put your hand on the door handle ready to leave the car. “No I can’t I’m sorry, I have a place to be, I can get you to the bus stop if you want to.” He just says that out of pity. What a douche.

“No thank you, I’ll walk there.” You squint your eyes before you leave the car, he doesn’t even wait for you to walk out of the building and he drives away fast, he really is a douche.

Public transportation wasn’t a big deal for you anyway, the ride home on the bus was very therapeutic to you, you usually keep your headphones on and listen to an audio book on your way back to clear your mind, or you would usually catch up with your friends on the group chat or something.

Sometimes you would even fall asleep if it was an exhausting day, but on your trip home tonight you were anticipating getting to your studio apartment so much, not that you’re greedy for the gift or anything, but you’re just curious why he so suddenly decided on giving you a gift that actually looks expensive.

You get there after a 40 minute trip and you finally get into your flat, not even taking your shoes off you rush to your couch and put the box down and untie the little dainty velvety ribbon, you take the top of the box off and you only see a few wrapping papers covering what seems to be a clothing item. You take it out and you feel your entire body heat up. It’s a costume.

No no, not any costume, it’s a little too slutty to be an actual costume. It’s a black leather one piece with spaghetti straps, a really low neck line that you know no one’s chest will ever fit in them. Not only that, but a pair of black lace stockings and suspenders, and a choker.

What in hell..

You put them down on the couch beside you and dig deeper into the box to find cat ears headband and a.. What the actual fuck.

A butt plug?

You cannot believe him, you put the blame on yourself for actually listening to him and meeting him up in the parking lot, and you shouldn’t have accepted the gift in the first place, he’s an actual man whore.

You scrunch up the entire outfit in a messy ball and throw it back in the box, before closing it and throwing it near your door on the floor, so you can pick it up and throw it in the trash in the morning.

A mini-van is supposed to collect all the girls up from their places and head to the airport, and of course you’re late. Last night’s sleep was horrendous, you couldn’t stop overthinking about the little trashy gift you got from the trashy man. You cannot believe some girls actually idolize this man.

“Y/N, if we miss the flight we have to book one ourselves.” Mira shouts as you hurriedly close your carry on and struggle to put on your pair of sneakers. You look at the trash near your door and sigh. “Damn it. I have to take the trash out.”

“Nope, you’re not taking anything out, I’m not willing to pay anything extra for the job I cannot stand.” She’s slowly losing her patience and so are you. You forget about the trash and get out of your place and lock your door.

The moment you get to the airport it’s already chaotic. Their schedule has been up since last week to the public and their fans know that they’re going out for tour, so they’re waiting there to hand them gifts and handmade letters. Again you cannot believe the image he shows to people of him when you know his true personality.

And boy was he good at faking an entire persona, you have no idea what girls think of him but fuck he’s nowhere near how girls imagine him. A trashy human being that you could swear reeks like sex the entire time. He looks like he woke up with a hangover so you guess he was probably with someone last night and he was onto something.

He notices your existence amid all the chaos when you all get up to the lounge to have your breakfast even when you could’ve waited to get to Japan to eat, the trip wasn’t that far away. You grab yourself a cup of coffee and stack up food on your plate, you know you won’t have the time to eat later so you decide on fueling up early today.

“Good morning.” He puts his coffee down on the same table you’re sitting around and you sigh before looking around. Relax Y/N, you cannot make a scene.

“Good morning.” You proceed on eating, you cannot let him ruin your morning this quickly.

“So, what do you think?” He crosses his legs and tilts his head towards you. “The moment I saw the costume I knew I had to buy it for you.”

“Mhm, truly says a lot about your character, a trashy gift from someone like you.” You don’t beat around the bush. He laughs and leans towards you to whisper. “Please tell me you got it in your luggage.”

“Nope, I’m getting rid of it—“

He shrugs right away. “Then I’ll buy you another one.”

A moment of silence fills the air when your gaze meets his for a couple seconds, he pulls his chair closer to yours and takes his phone out which makes you whine. You know he’s going to show you more of his kinky NSFW content and it’s really uncomfortable for you to watch it. “Look, I don’t know how I can explain this better for you, but trust me. It is okay for things like that to happen in this field.”

“Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t mean it’s right.” There you go, a girl with standards.

“I swear it is okay.” He pulls his chair even closer and now his shoulder is rubbing against yours when he whispers. “Y/N baby, us men are totally different. You girls can go around without sex for ages and you won’t even care. But men have this sexual energy that they need to let out one way or another.”

This is really disgusting.

“And people like us need to be careful on who to hook up with, and you girls are the safest because we work together.” He shrugs. “Not only us, every idol in the country has to do so.”

Of course it’s partially right, but you’re genuinely confused on why wouldn’t he just get a girlfriend instead of bitching around with plenty of women.

“You know, the idea itself is not that acceptable, but I can understand. But why do you film them? For the love of god you have an entire folder on your phone dedicated to this content. I mean, why do you have to film them when you have them right there in front of you?”

“Good question.” He nods. “You know how some people try and discover themselves, they sometimes dig around here and there trying to find out what actually turns them on, and you know they try and discover their preferences?”

“Are you trying to mansplain what kinks are?” You proceed on eating. “So is that your kink? You like filming women?”

“It’s more fun than the actual thing to me. And the times I made myself cum to the videos I created are countless. It’s fucking sexy.” He grits on his teeth and puts an arm around your chair. You’re getting uncomfortable with him not leaving you enough amount of personal space. “I love watching them looking at the camera and begging to be fucked and just submit to me.”

“And they’re all okay with being filmed?” You ask him and he nods right away. “Now they know what I like, and now they ask me to film them. What about you?”

“No, I’m good thank you.” You answer right away and put down your fork when you’ve fully wiped your plate clean.

“No, I mean what kinks do you have? Have you tried discovering what your preferences are?” He asks, twirling a strand of your hair in his hand, you can feel his breath against your ear when he whispers. “What was it like being fucked the first time?”

It takes you a moment to answer but you eventually do. “I don’t remember what it was like, it was long ago, but I don’t recall it being fun.”

“First time is always awkward.” He nods. “What about the second time?”

You shrug one shoulder and cross your arms. “I don’t think of sex the way you do. I mean I’ve had sex multiple times with different partners, but I think it’s a little overrated.”

“Overrated?” He’s offended. His hand sits on his chest. “You think sex is overrated?”

“Okay chill.” You get up on your feet to refill your coffee and he follows you. “I just don’t find it as fun and as pleasuring as people claim it is.”

“It’s because you haven’t had it with the right person.” He defends right away. “Oh my god did you even cum before?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe.”

He’s interrupted by your gate opening, their carryon luggage is carried and already loaded inside and the rest of the staff is starting to board. “This isn’t finished yet. I’ll see you when we get to our hotel.”

“Whatever Taehyung, don’t make a big deal out of this.” You push him away to grab your bag and get in line. “It is a big deal.” He argues one last time and gets in line and boards the plane.

You have no idea what went through you, but the entire flight you were rethinking your conversation with him and you find yourself slowly getting convinced about the idea generally. You really surprised yourself when you hum out loud, thinking that you are getting curious to try and spend one night with him.

Do girls actually want to sleep with him because he’s good? Or because he’s an idol and that’s like literally a fetish to some people.

You cannot deny he’s really good looking, he’s really charming on camera but even the camera doesn’t do him any justice, he was perfectly sculpted in real life and way more attractive than people think. But it’s just his recurrent sexual behavior that’s been setting you off. You find yourself cringing.

The entire plane has been booked for Bangtan and their staff. Them with their managers, security, filming staff, directors, producers, engineers, stylists and makeup artists of course, editors. Everyone on this plane knew each other.

It was a little noisy to begin with since some are catching up and some are chatting, so you put your earphones on the entire flight, and right when your third song on your playlist ended and the fourth one is about to start, you over hear the girls behind you.

“You need to cover for me when we get there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can barely stand on my feet, and I’m really sore from last night.”

“Who did you spend the night with? I thought you were inviting me.”

“Taehyung and Jungkook. I passed out at the end.”

“You’re kidding.”

So it is normal for girls to actually sleep with them and go around telling their friends like it’s totally okay. It’s starting to feel like a whore house, and it probably is.

You peak your head to look towards Jungkook and Taehyung, both of them are sleeping and even snoring. Of course they’re tired when they spend the previous night with the same girl. This is so fucked up.

Not long after you all get to the hotel to spend the only free hour you get before your day starts and you all head to the stadium for rehearsals. You’re surprised that the entire hotel is booked for the staff too and you luckily get your own room with one single bed, but who are you to complain? You always hated having roommates, so one bed is way better than having a roommate.

Right when you’re about to close the door a foot stops it from moving any further which startles you for a second before you open the door again. Of course it’s him, who’s been digging deep and moving around asking stylists which room you got. “Oh come on.” You whine.

“Can I come in?” He so politely and innocently asks, for a second you’d doubt he’s the same person who showed you an entire folder of girls begging him to do stuff to them. He doesn’t even step a foot further inside your room before you huff and roll your eyes. “Come in.”

He takes one last look to the corridor and walks in, the door automatically locking when it closes.

“What’s up?” You act occupied as you take out your skin care products to put onto the dresser. He plops down onto your bed and grabs the pillow to put under his head. “We have unfinished business.”

“Taehyung, don’t you take no for an answer?” You don’t even spare him a glance.

“Hey, If it makes you feel any better, I’m your friend and colleague, we’re around the same age, consider this as a friend helping another friend.” He shrugs and talks as if it’s that easy. “And if it makes you comfortable, I’m not filming you if you don’t want to.”

“Oh yeah, because filming me was the only problem.” You turn your head to the little coffee machine in the corner of your room and make yourself a cup, he doesn’t argue back which makes you wonder why, you turn your head and he’s literally digging into your handbag and taking out one of your bras.

“Kim fucking Taehyung.” You snatch your bra away from him. “Get out.”

“I knew you were a C cup.” He gets up onto his feet. “Look, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, but I don’t know why you’re really over thinking it. It’s just a one time thing, we hook up and that’s it, no one has to even know.”

“You could easily lure any woman into bed and we both know it, but snatching away my bra and showing me your stupid kink and shit won’t get me into bed with you.” You put your bra back into your handbag and close it.

“Then tell me how.” He puts his hand into his pockets. “What could get Y/N to sleep with me?”

“Exactly, and it’s nothing, nothing could get me to sleep with you Taehyung, this is fucked up.”

“Money? How much and I’ll give it to you cash, right now.”

The audacity on this man.

“Oh my god, you’re making it even worse if you can’t tell. Get out.” You open the door to your room.

He huffs and walks towards the door to shut it again. “Okay, look, I’m sorry if this offended you I didn’t mean so. But again why are you rejecting it? Millions of women want to be in your place.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m not one of those millions. Besides, how am I supposed to look at you again if we ever slept together?” You cross your arms.

“Like you’ve always looked at me.” He pouts. “Nothing will change, no strings attached, it’s just one night, is it my fault that I really want you to enjoy one night?”

You open the door again and look him in the eye, your coffee is already gone cold and you’re over this argument. He closes the door again and tugs your hair behind your ear, whispering softly. “Y/N.. I feel like you’re different, you’re nothing like other girls, you’re a really nice, sweet and attractive young lady that deserves to feel like a woman.”

It’s a little alarming to you that with such small physical contact with him could make you think about it seriously.

There’s nothing to lose, you’re a woman after all and you have your needs.

He promised you one night, no strings attached, and apparently he’s really good and he knows what he’s doing.

“Don’t you think you deserve to have at least one night of mind blowing sex?” He grins and grazes the back of his hand against your cheek. “We’re flying back to Seoul tomorrow night, I’ll give you enough time to think, and maybe I can have your phone number or something, we could stay in contact and probably discuss things while keeping it on the low key.”

“Discuss?” You squint your eyes.

“Yeah, we could talk, tell me what you like and how you like it, you know, stuff like that.” He elaborates, you sigh and look him in the eyes. “What if we happen to like different things?”

“Then I’m willing to let go of the things that I like just for your sake.” He crosses his fingers. “I’m a good boy I promise.”

“Fine.” You can’t believe yourself. You take your phone out of your back pocket and proceed to add him to your contacts, a satisfied smile lingers on his face and he even leans forward to print a kiss to your cheek. He’s totally buttering up his bread and he thinks he can get you to agree to this faster, but you’re smarter than him.

“You’re crossing the lines Taehyung.”

“Who cares about the damn lines, if we agree to this I’ll be kissing other things and you’ll want me to.” He opens the door to your room and walks out. “I’ll see you around.”

And indeed. After your one hour free time you all headed to the stadium for rehearsals, the concert was happening tomorrow but everyone needed orientation around the place.

During the entire day he never brought it up, neither look at you like he has been recently, he kept it professional with you in front of everyone and never spoke about it like it never happened.

You were scheduled to leave the stadium at around 11 in the evening, the girls decided on going out for dinner but you skipped, you had multiple coffees during your day and you don’t feel physically well, so you just head back to your hotel and take the elevator up to your room.

You gasp when you see him about to take the elevator and go down, you barely recognize him when he has a cap and a face mask on. “Oh, hey Y/N.” He so casually speaks.

“Hey, you’re going out?” Why did you even ask. He laughs softly and shakes his head. “No, I’m going downstairs to grab a bite from the buffet, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you going out?”

“I’m a little tired, I guess I’ll just go to sleep or something.” It feels like you’re talking to the Taehyung you’ve always known for the past years, nothing feels different so far.

He looks at the time on his wrist and looks back at you. “If you want to, I’ll grab something to eat quickly and come hang out with you, maybe we can talk about that thing.”

Yup, never mind.

“I think I’d rather sleep.” You walk out of the elevator and he walks in instead. “Come on, 10 minutes max, I won’t be late.”

You shouldn’t have asked him anything in the first place.

“You know, I don’t think it would be a good idea if you and I stayed alone in one room.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to spice things up, we’re just hanging out discussing things, like other colleagues do.” He presses the button on the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”

And the elevator door closes before you could even shoo him away for the evening. He’s just going to come up to your room later and you know he’ll force himself inside.

You click the key card to your room and immediately change to your pajamas, you even turn off the lights and hope he thinks you’re asleep by the time he knocks at your door.

Thankfully time passed by and he never knocked. But instead he went back to his room and decided to text you.

1:54 | KTH:

Couldn’t come by sorry

1:54 | KTH:

Are you still awake?

1:54 | KTH

Wanna come over to my room 😉

KTH sent a photo

KTH sent a video

Of course he can see your read receipts, he knows you’re awake and he even lured you further into the conversation by sending you a photo and a video that you rush to open.

He’s not exactly there in the photo, the picture is taken of his TV turned on and he’s under the blanket, you can only see his covered legs from above the blanket, nothing too special.

The video is what makes your ears buzz, you find yourself pressing your thighs closer to each other, when he palms what seems to be his erection from above the blanket, and holy fuck was he big or were you hallucinating. You turn the volume up and you can hear his breath changing with every stroke of his cock. He inserts his hand under the blanket and strokes his cock before flipping the camera to his face and smiling like nothing happened.

Luckily that video is on replay, so it keeps replaying on its own unless you swipe it away, you don’t know what possesses you, you put your phone down against the used coffee cup from earlier and pull your pants down, your hand travels down to your folds and you touch yourself, delivering circular continues rubs to your clit and teasing your entrance with your middle and ring finger.

You spit onto your fingers and move further down again to rub your clit faster this time, your shoulders tensing and your hand already growing tired. It always takes you so long to get to your edge and you need a stimulant more than just a stupid photo or a video. Your other hand moves to grab your breasts out of your top and you pinch your nipple and squeeze onto your flesh. “Mmm.” Your eyes are piercing through your phone screen but your stupid screen saver decides on locking your phone which makes you whine desperately. “Ugh.” You grab your phone and unlock it, of course the video is gone.

2:03 | KTH:

Like what you see?

Has it been 9 minutes already?

Your fingers rush to type on the screen.

2:03 | You:

🙄

2:04 | You:

Mister kim is spending a night alone how weird

2:04 | KTH:

Mister Kim?

2:04 | KTH:

You can keep calling me mister kim if you want to 😉

You bite onto your fingernails, wanting to send a risky text but you’re so unsure. Your fingers hover over the screen and you proceed to type, but quickly delete what you wrote.

2:05 | KTH:

Want me to send you more? Maybe you can send me some

And of course this is off the table, you’re not going to send him nudes not because you’re against sending them generally, but you’re against sending nudes to him. Your pictures may end up in a folder on his phone like any other woman.

2:06 | You:

Goodnight.

Taehyung has been dealing with women like you for years now, he can see and expect any behavior that you may project and this is one of these situations. You sending him goodnight didn’t quite literally mean goodnight. He knows you want this to happen but you’re still in denial and you don’t know that yourself.

So of course, without thinking twice, he opens the camera on his phone and this time pulls the blanket down a little just to reveal the tip of his cock that’s pressed against his stomach. He grabs the massage oil to pump some onto his long fingers and strokes his angry dick again.

The man has been with so many women that he built a stamina that no regular woman can take, he can go for hours and women even beg him to cum just so they can rest, he was animalistic and it was out of this world, hence women actually passing out when sleeping with him. Stroking his cock alone won’t get him to his end and he could easily calm his erection without having to cum, the self control on this man is incredible.

He touches the red circle on his phone screen and starts filming, clearly teasing you and showing you only the tip, his cock all glistening from the massage oil. It was quiet around his hotel room, and the only thing that’s heard in the video is the sound of stroking heard clearly when it’s this slippery, and the sounds he was unbelievably good at faking, little whimpers and moans, his breath hitching and even swear words escaping his lips. “Fuck.. Mm, Y/N, this is all for you.”

The video was sent to you, and you don’t hesitate to open it, this time actually positioning yourself on the bed and grabbing out one of the thickest makeup brushes you have on hand, wetting it with your mouth and slowly teasing your entrance before pushing it inside. The video starts and your fingers abruptly move to turn up the volume. Your body instantly heats up and reacts upon the sounds you hear, and holy fuck you can clearly see the tip, and it looks fucking edible at this moment.

You cannot believe this is happening and you feel your face even heating up, is it embarrassment? You can’t tell, it may be embarrassment but hey you’re not the one sending nudes he is. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Well except the fact that you’re masturbating to a video of him.

You hear your name and in a click of a button, your stomach tightens and your back arches, your hand moves faster to insert the back of the makeup brush further inside your thirsty pussy as you chase your orgasm. Even when the brush was cold and it practically didn’t feel like skin nor had the size of an actual dick but it was enough for you to let go.

Your chest heaves and your legs shut tightly around your hand and the video still plays on your phone that’s still nesting in your other hand, your eyes locked onto the screen afraid that you can’t see the same shot anymore when you swipe away.

The last bit of self control of you finally washes into your body and you swipe away, you can’t deny you immediately regret but you had to swipe away at some point.

2:35 | KTH:

I thought I’d hear u cum but I didn’t L

Your body stiffens and you immediately get up onto your feet, the makeup brush slips out of your vagina down onto the floor and you rush to see through the peephole and immediately cover your mouth with your hand when you see him standing there on his phone, leaned against your door and still texting you. Your hand that’s holding your phone is leaned against the door so with every text he send it vibrates and the entire door vibrates with it which makes him look at the peephole from his side.

And holy fuck at this point you’re terrified. Luckily your room is dark and he can’t see anything, but he knows you’re watching him. You rush to grab your pants and put them back on and get under your blanket. As if he’s going to open the door at any second and hurt you.

You shut your eyes tightly trying to avoid looking at your phone screen but you eventually do.

2:38 | KTH:

Sent you 9 messages.

The door to your room knocks and you actually gasp, covering your mouth again but the entire floor was so quiet and empty that if a needle fell everyone would hear it.

You get up onto your feet and put on a jacket to cover yourself even when your pajama wasn’t revealing at all, you just put your jacket on for protection. You look through the peephole one last time before you open up and he almost stumbles because he leaned his entire body weight against the door. “Hey, I thought you’d never open.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You hug your jacket closer to your chest and cross your arms, “What’s up?” He asks with a smirk on his face as he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him, “So what did it feel like?”

“Hmm?” You open the mini fridge and grab water out for yourself to take a few sips. He chuckles and puts his hands into his pockets. “Y/N baby, I know your body more than you do. Your face has the afterglow and you’re not breathing regularly, and your lips are blood red. What did it feel like when you made yourself cum to the video?”

“Taehyung I—“

“What did you like the most? The sounds or your name actually being called when I’m jerking off to you?” He plops down on your bed and throws his phone down on the nightstand.

“I’m not breathing regularly because you’re over here past midnight spying on my door.” You sit across the room, maintaining a good amount of space between you two. “And please don’t call me baby, I’m not your baby.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs. “We’re just chatting, trust me I’m not going to touch you if you don’t give me your consent I promise, besides I-- Hey, what’s that?”

His eyes land on the makeup brush that’s dropped down onto your floor, and the glistening tip is what caught his attention. “What do you mean, this is a makeup brush.” You rush to stand up and run towards it but he’s faster than you are, he picks it up from the floor and a smirk sits on his face, fuck he even grabs it closer to smell it and he knows what this smell is. But yours was sweeter and truly different from other smells.

“Would you look at that.” He scoffs. “A makeup brush? Really?”

“Stop.” You bite onto your own teeth and you approach him to snatch it away, but again he’s faster. He licks the tip of the brush once and smacks his tongue into his mouth before swallowing. “Mm.”

Your entire body freezes when you watch him savor it, he licks the tip of the brush clean with his eyes closed, you thought your body would react to it but none, you’re standing there stiff right before him when he gets up onto his feet. He opens his eyelids and his gaze meets yours, his pair of tight sleepy eyes gazing right through yours. “You taste heavenly.” He grabs your hand and puts the brush into it before leaving your room and closing the door behind him. The second you hear the auto lock on the door you drop down to your bed with the brush in your hand.

Trails of his saliva are visible on the end of it and you cannot help but pull it closer to your mouth and lick it after him. You’re fucked.

You wake up the morning after wishing you could forget what happened last night. You’re pretty sure you’re embarrassed and ashamed at the fact that you got caught. You didn’t want this to happen to begin with, how are you supposed to look at him when you have to spend the entire day with him?

You pack your handbag and hand it to the hotel staff, you’re going straight from the stadium to the airport so you had to be ready and they took your bag to load the bus with the rest of the luggage.

“I don’t get it, we left the hotel at the same time, he’s supposed to be here.” Mira whines. The entire staff was ready and he wasn’t there yet. “The sound check is in less than an hour—“

“We know the schedule Mira, please just Shush.” You woke up on the wrong side of the bed and you weren’t ready to hear any whining, “Yeah Mira. I’m here give yourself a break.” Taehyung walks from behind you and gets seated onto the chair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Mira alone responds and proceeds to blow dry his hair while you take out your kit and completely ignore the man seated on the chair in front of you.

He’s trying to look at you sneakily but he’s keeping his promise, no one is going to know anything so he’s not going to be doing anything suspicious to the rest of the staff. “Are you feeling better today?” He asks politely.

“Me?” You point to yourself unsure if he’s talking to you, and he blinks his eyes in a “Yes.” Before speaking. “You weren’t feeling well when I saw you in the elevator last night.”

“Yeah, she didn’t join us for dinner, are you feeling well?” Leah asks while she’s working on Seokjin’s hair.

“Oh yes, I went to bed early and I’m doing well today.” You force a smile on your face and grab out the little bag that had all your makeup brushes. That brush is the first thing you see when you open the tiny purse and it reminds you in case you forgot, that you were caught masturbation last night.

“You can start Y/N. I need to get a new bottle of hairspray from downstairs.” Mira puts her stuff down and walks away leaving you to work on Taehyung’s face.

“Can I ask you something?” He looks around before whispering and you answer him right away. “Nope.” Which makes him pout. You roll your eyes and start dabbing primer onto his face. “What do you want?”

“Did you really throw away the thing I got you?”

“Well, I’m planning to.” You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, he shrugs and whispers. “What you did yesterday would feel ten times better if you actually use the gift.”

“I don’t do butt stuff Taehyung.” You argue right away, still low enough for only you two to hear. He looks at you while squinting his eyes. “Who said anything about butt stuff?”

“You sent me a butt plug, don’t try and act oblivious, the gift didn’t send itself.” You grab his chin to throw his head back. “Silly, it wasn’t a butt plug, it was a vibrator.”

His face is right there you can easily slap him and make a scene, it’ll cost you your job but who cares.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He scoffs. “Text me when you get home tonight I’ll show you how to use it.”

“I know how a vibrator works Taehyung thank you. Now would you stop moving I can’t blend the concealer well.” You try hard to change the topic, but the idiot grabs your purse of makeup brushes and takes out that brush and hands it to you. “Here, I think this one will do.”

Your gaze meets his for a couple seconds before he looks down at your lips and bites his own, totally imagining your lips swollen from all the kissing, the picture of you choking onto his dick that he drew in his head is now chasing him whenever he lays his eyes onto you.

Maybe you being mean to him made him actually want to have you more than before, you’re unlike them, other girls from your staff didn’t even think twice before hooking up with him. But you being a tough cookie made him ready to beg just to be with you even if it was just once.

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x oc

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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 9 months ago

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Sleepover with Drunk Nanami

Nanami crashes on your couch after a drunken meeting on a rare night out.

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY. fem! Reader, Soft Nanami, drunk Nanami, slow burn (sorta? Does nine hours count?), discussions of consent, Gojo is in it also lol.

Word count: 13.9k, Ngl this one kind of got away from me 🤭🫣. Don’t have sex with drunk people! let the tension build until that consent is sober and enthusiastic.

This was inspired by the song Get Up by Ciara, and my being very horny. I haven’t written fanfic in almost ten years, so here’s what I have for you. This was so fun to write, I really hope y’all enjoy it. I am so obsessed with this man its actually insane.

Clubs were not his preferred way to “cut loose”. He hated the claustrophobic proximity, the overpriced drinks, the flagrants displays of affection, most of all the inability to hold a conversation. Resounding bass and artificial light blaring against his skull was sure to culminate in tomorrow’s headache. Nanami couldn't be bothered to entertain the idea of joining his coworkers to dance and drink as they so often invited him. He much preferred to keep his own company, drinking at home, indulging in the occasional (and strictly, personally regulated) cigarette, and reading in the bath. Although the last two weeks he found himself working around the clock. It seemed that as soon as he crossed his own home’s threshold he was back to work in some capacity or other. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to turn his brain off completely in between shifts. He hated working, period, let alone working outside of his normal hours, but the work needed to be done, and as the days trudged forward, his work life balance compounded into a singularity designed specifically to siphon any free time he could find.

But that had ended this afternoon, completing a mission’s adjoining paperwork and being released for a three day leave in between assignments. Returning to his small office, he begins to retrieve his coat and pack his bag to depart and return home to finally relax. Already feeling his shoulders unknot themselves, Nanami allowed a blissful sigh to leave his lips. No sooner had he begun to draw in the following breath than had the rapping of angular knuckles against his door frame rung in his ears. Raising his eyes, Kento sees long time (reluctant) friend and daily annoyance, Satoru Gojo, strolling casually inside and plopping across the desk from him.

“So what time should I pick you up?” Although Kento could not see his eyes behind the famous black blindfold hiding them, the blase demeanor and entitlement dripping from his question was apparent.

Already feeling the vein in his head begin to pulse, Nanami sighed out, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come out with us tonight. You’re off the ne t few days. I’m sure even you can recover from one night out in that time. Everyone is goin, Suguru, Shoko, yours truly…even Ijichi said he would come,” Gojo allows his smile to lure in the other man, “So you have to come.”

A familiar feeling rose the skin on the back of his neck as Kento heard his familiar train of thought, Absolutely not. I’m exhausted. I have to decline. Don’t wait up for me, but before the reluctance to break his own routine won over, his shoulders softened, “Okay.”

Gojo snapped to attention, his planned seduction now moot in the face of Nanami’s quick acceptance. He hadn't said yes to going out in two months, and the last time he had joined the group, he left less than an hour in claiming a headache and calling a cab.

“For real?” Gojo couldn't help himself, he was waiting for this to be a joke.

“Yes, 9:00 you’ll pick me up. We’ll go out. I could use the break. Thank you for the invitation.”

Gojo was beside himself, feeling his lips stretch from ear to ear, he rose to his feet and began to head to the door. He had to limit the time for Nanami to come to his senses, fearing this may all be some bought of madness from the usually grumpy man.

“See you then, wear something I like.”

Idiot always had to have the last word. Nanami lowered himself into his desk chair, taken aback by his own enthusiasm, a small smile creeping across his lips. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he couldn't say he was upset by it, it had been a long time since he had tried to meet his friends like this. He wasn't social by nature, and he was grateful to have people who understood that, allowing him his space but still continuing to include him in their extroverted fun. As much as Gojo’s refusal to allow him peace took its toll, Nanami was pleased to have someone so insistent on pushing his social limits. Although he would never tell him that.

These are the circumstances that lead Nanami to drinking as much as he had, to loosening his tie eventually to the point of hanging on either shoulder, to laying his jacket along the barstool of the hightop table he and his friends occupied. Dancing, actually dancing inside of the group of people gyrating together on the club’s designated dance floor. Eyes closed, hair sticking to his forehead, Kento felt the weight of fall away and the warm embrace of intoxication take over.

Gojo laughed over his dark sunglasses, nudging Geto’s elbow with his own before tipping his head to their large, very uncharacteristically drunk friend. They watched in shared admiration, laughing to each other, remembering fondly the stiff demeanor their friend had always carried. Since they’d known him they had seen him get drunk countless times, but drunk enough to dance? Only a handful. Drunk enough to have undone his top three buttons and reveal a growing flush down his neck and shoulders, maybe twice.

“He really needed this,” Geto praised Gojo lightly, it was him who always insisted on inviting out Nanami once again, despite the likely improbability of it happening.

Gojo smiled warmly before laughing again, this time to himself, he didn't want to reveal how easy it really was. How little he had had to push to get him out, he let the praise wash over him as he admired the usually stuffy man’s catharsis. Shoko returned then from the bar, two shots for herself and one for Ijichi who followed closely behind her, already starting to stumble himself.

That’s when Nanami saw you. Finally opening his eyes, pupils adjusting to the dim light, you appeared to him like a vision. And a vision you were, long legs wrapped in a skirt, a top lightly grazing the hemline at your waist, arms full and strong, hair styled specifically showcasing care and effort as well as routine. Engaged in conversation with a friend of yours, both laughing and allowing the atmosphere to relax you, Kento didn't realize his body had stopped dancing as he now stood dumbly in the center of the dancefloor. With soft pushes and thoughtless instinctual movement, he moved to the outskirts of the dancefloor, although still within sight of you. His breath caught in his chest, his hands ran cold, becoming clammy quickly as he watched you share a shot with your friend, head tipping back and revealing the full column of your neck to him. He felt his face flush further than the alcohol could.

Soon enough his back found the table that Shoko currently occupied, digging in her discarded coat’s pocket for her lighter, cigarette hanging loosely between her lips. Cooly placing her hand atop a few rattled glasses knocked around by his collision, she inquired as to Nanami’s dreamy state, “something got your attention?” her laugh broke through his haze just as she followed his eyeline to you.

“She’s pretty, you know her?” she was finally able to fish her lighter from the correct pocket.

Nanmi shook his head, still not able to tear his gaze away,” do you?”

“Never seen her before.” She observed the dumbstruck look in Nanami’s eyes weighing whether her input was more prescient than her desire for a smoke break, “You should try to talk to her. Who knows when we’ll get you out again. Make the most of it.”

With that she headed back towards the smoker’s patio, leaving Nanami with her words bouncing between his ears. When was the last time he had flirted with someone? When was the last time he had been on an actual date? When was the last time he had gotten to take someone home? When was the last time he had shared a bed with someone? When was the last time someone else had made him cum, not just himself between disgruntled days and nights working too much with little output? He had a break, he had come out, hadn't he? As he had gotten ready tonight he chastised his own mind for indulging in fantasies of meeting someone, But he didn't think he would find someone so ... .magnetic.

He wasn't even sure how long it had been since Shoko had gone outside, Kento snapped back to himself when he saw you set your drink down- nearly finished- and head into the throng of dancing bodies. His body moves before he can consciously decide how best to approach you; feet escorting him to the dance floor, hips following the beat and loosening the rest of him. His hands moved upward around his shoulders imitating a boxer’s stance, the alcohol clearly influencing his dancing style. Pressing forward he found himself just to your left. It was as though you had your own kinespheric bubble surrounding you, people danced near you but not on you. He felt invited in by this space, as though you had saved it just for him. He watched your body move, circling your hips and allowing your neck to follow the melody freely, your arms raising above your head as your eyes fluttered between completely closed and mostly closed. Your lips were parted beautifully, lip gloss catching the light so beautifully.

Maybe it was just chapstick, or it was lipstick, he had no idea, but just seeing the glint along your bottom lip made his mouth water for your kiss.

Would you use your tongue right away, or would he need to draw it out of you with his? Would you want him to guide you, or did you want to lead him yourself? He found his heart quickening at ever new possibility. When you finally allowed your eyes to open, they found him almost instantly. Locking eyes with you finally, Kento thought his skin was going to burst. Heart quickened, hand clammy, breath quick he searched for any reciprocation in your own eyes.

So when your eyes crinkle, following the line of your smile, so clearly directed right at him and only him, Kento can't resist but bring his hands to the sides of your hips.

The blonde man had been watching you since you got here. You noticed, Sophie noticed. As soon as you left the bar and staked your claim on an open hightop bordering the crowded but lively dance floor, she had jutted her chin toward him on the other side of the floor.

“Got one already.” she said impressed with your efficiency.

You turned to briefly meet his gaze, in just a second his gaze was so intense you could tell his eyes were honey brown and they were trained on you and only you, “oh come on. I’m sure he’s just checking everyone out.” you dismissed, still feeling the hot eyes on the back of your neck.

“He’s still looking at you,” Sophie marveled, “still looking…still…wow I don't think hes even trying to hide it.”

You knew. You could feel it, your heart raced. You had just barely looked at him but you had seen enough to see how attractive he was. A tall, broad frame, well cultivated outfit, neat, well styled hair, confidence and stability oozing from every pore. So clearly unabashedly interested. God, he was your type. Before you knew it most of your drink was drained, the nerves of being observed having made you suddenly parched. The liquid confidence settling in your system motivated you to pull Sophie to dance. You two found an open bubble in the sea of bodies and allowed yourself to release your lingering thoughts of the watcher.

That is, until you open your eyes once more, finding a pair of honey brown eyes begging for yours. It was him. He was less than two feet from you, he had sought you out. You couldn't help yourself, his interest and obvious enthusiasm brought a curl to your lips. Your smile locking him into a stare, you didn't flinch when you felt large, strong hands on your hips. It felt right, looking into his eyes the idea of not feeling him touch you felt preposterous. Your hips still followed the music, his soon joining their routine. His hands, once brazen, now stayed still and solid against your hips, moving with you, but never straying from their position. Emboldened by his sudden demure approach,wanting to reciprocate with just as much interested you turned, facing your back to him and pressing the curve of your ass against his hips, you thought you hear a soft groan exit his mouth. Once you had turned away from him, a bit of tension is relieved. You feel braver not looking him directly in the eye anymore. You grip onto one of his hands and trail it up your body, leaving the other gripping your hip harder and harder. Soon your back was fully against his chest, the music carried your pelvis, joined against his, everything else fell away as you guided his right hand across your body, side, hips, stomach and ass. His body felt so solid against yours, it was so solid against yours. He was an imposing figure, six foot or more, strong and cultivated build demonstrating both his personal strength and his own discipline. How you could have not noticed him here before was beyond you.

Nanami was hypnotized. From the moment you had looked him in the eye, he was hooked. Now that your body was flush against his, ass grinding into the front of his slacks, he couldn't think about anything else. He breathed hot against your ear as your fingers curled around his, sliding his fingers up from your hip to your stomach. It was so intimate, your leading his hand along your body, showing him exactly where you wanted his touch. You had your head cocked to the left, opening the side of your neck to him and moving your hair just under his nose, the smell of your shampoo was thrilling, he longed to run his fingers through your hair, to ruin your styling and pull. He wondered if you would let him brush it for you, wash it for you. He could learn exactly how you liked your routine, learn to style, learn to braid, anything to keep this smell close to him.

Behind his eyelids he wondered about your body, how your breasts would look, how your skin would flush through excitement or exertion, how wet you would get, how you would taste. He wondered, too, about your kiss, again thinking about how much tongue you would use, and if you would want to be in charge or him. A soft moan escaped his lips as he thought of your tongue sliding against his, directly against the shell of your ear. As if cued you spun around again, your leg slotted between his, allowing you both to move as one, grinding unashamed as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You can touch me yourself you know,” You could barely hear the music but Nanami knew exactly what you had said, “Or do you just like being told what to do.”

Your flirting sent a shock directly down his body, feeling his cock swell against the inside of his slacks, he slid his hands up the curves and folds of your back, your skin was so soft, he saw your lips part as he touched you. You were so reactive, he couldn't hear the caught breaths of the soft moans over the club’s speakers, but he watched as your eyes fluttered and your knees pulled tighter around him. One hand traveled down to the side of your leg, brushing down the side of your hip and ass to grip your thigh. The front strands of his hair had loosened and now hung freely in his face, a dark blush settled across his freckled nose and cheeks, one of your hands moved down his shoulder and onto his chest, he wished he had been more reckless and undone a few more buttons for you, he longed to have your fingers on his skin. But for now they held the collar of his shirt in their grasp, he longed for your eyes again, and as if you had read his find they met his own. He prayed you couldn't feel the way the eye contact had made his dick twitch, the blush deepening at the shame of being so crass in his attraction to you. Pulling him somehow even closer, he could feel your breath on his neck, he was panting a bit from the exertion of dance and the intense sexual tension. The song was beginning to end, and the DJ was already beginning to blend it with the introduction of the next song.

Seizing his opportunity, Nanami finally spoke his first words to you, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded, smiling at him, he wanted to make you smile again and again, the warmth of your gazing making the stuffy club feel icy by comparison.

“Thank you!”, you moved a hand down his arm to join your hands together. Guiding him over to the bar. Your hand in his felt electric, you both could feel it. His large, work roughened palm against your own. They had fit together so naturally.

As you made your way over to the bar the music became less and less overwhelming, the pressing of bodies became less insistent. You turned your head to find Sophie, chatting to a few friends she had planned to run into, she caught your eye before giving you a knowing look and a thumbs up. You smiled and winked at her before turning back to the man behind you. You caught him at the end of turning his head from what looked to be a group of his own friends. All of whom were looking at the pair of you. One, particularly tall man with dark glasses was giving an encouraging thumbs up mirroring Sophie’s. You caught yourself wondering if your friends would get along, if he would get along with your friends, if you would get along with his. You didn't even know this man's name, you had barely spoken to him, and here you were ready to merge friend groups and make brunch plans. What the hell was going on tonight?

Finally reaching the bar right as two seats opened up, you both sat, giving your exhausted legs much needed refuge. The air between you two suddenly became thick, without the immediacy of movement you found yourself suddenly worried about how to engage him again in the heat you had just had.

“What do you like to drink?”, he started right as you offered a question of your own,

“So what’s your name..”

You both laughed for a second, the acknowledgement of shared nerves taking a little pressure off. His smile was reserved, seemingly unpracticed. But his eyes betrayed his warmth, you could see.

“Kento Nanami,” He answered your question first, fighting the urge to hold out his hand for a chaste and professional handshake. He lifted his eyebrows to signify it being your turn to answer, you told him your name, and his smile returned again, “That's a beautiful name.” he repeated it back to you, ensuring his pronunciation was correct, when in actuality he could have rolled your name in his mouth a thousand times and never tired of the taste.

“I’d love a gin and tonic,” You offered, answering his question, “Or whatever you’re drinking.”

Drinking, he was drinking. Suddenly he was aware of how much he had been drinking. Skin hot and red, probably sweating all over you, stinking of booze. He felt the embarrassment move throughout his body as he replayed his invitation to buy you a drink. Were you just being nice to him? Wanting to find a polite way to get away from him and return to your friend? He had been so casual, so unhindered.

God, he was an idiot

“Sorry to take you away from your friends, I understand if you want to go back.”He wanted to offer you an out, feeling himself try to straighten up and will the drunkenness out of him before he embarrassed you or himself further. But to his surprise, you cocked your head to the side, eyes narrowing to assess his change in demeanor. You could see right through him.

“Don’t get shy on me now, the nights just starting,” you offered a new, slyer smile, “isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly, the bartender finally rounded the bar top to take your orders. Nanami ordered your drink as well as one of his own, you added on the desire for some ice water. Once the drinks were down set, you offered him a little cheers, tapping your glass against his before sipping. The drink was cool and refreshing, the perfect remedy for the heat rising in your neck and face.

He was so handsome, from his carved cheekbones speckled with freckles, you wondered if they were anywhere further down his collar. His bottom lip was full and plump, parted slightly as he tasted his drink, with his face profile to yours you could see a small pink circle on the side of his nose.

“Do you wear glasses?”, you asked.

Nanami’s brows twitched slightly together, “I do.”

“You have those little impressions on your nose. From the bridge of your glasses.” You answer, without him having asked how you could tell, “I bet you look handsome with your glasses on.”

Nanami cursed himself for leaving his glasses in his coat pocket across the bar. He’ll never make that mistake again. Bringing the chilled glass to his lips, attempting to cover his smile. He feels so seen by you, the way your eyes move over every inch of him, he doesn’t know if he’s ever been observed so closely. It’s exhilarating, it’s terrifying. You’re terrifying. You’re exhilarating. You’re still looking at him. You’re looking at him expectantly. You asked him another question and he missed it. He scrambles through the last few seconds searching for what you may have said to him, and how he possibly could have missed it.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if those were your friends over there.” You pointed over his shoulder.

Nanami turned quickly, oh god too quickly, his head spinning a bit as his equilibrium struggled to catch up. Gojo was waving at him, gesturing broadly in unintelligible charades. Nanami felt his frustration flare up at both having been distracted from you and also having to once again decipher another one of Satoru’s riddles. At the meeting of their eye line, Gojo began to move over to where the pair of you were seated, Geto and Shoko sharing the weight of a stumbling Ijichi. The head vein began pulsing again, he ought to name it after Gojo the way he sets it off. Panic set throughout his body, he didn’t want you to meet his friends— or maybe he didn’t want them to meet you. Not yet. He didn’t want to risk ruining what hadn’t yet really started. Suddenly feeling very territorial of you, he turned back, once again sending his head swimming.

“Yes. Those are my coworkers. I’m not—“

“Nanamiiiiin. We gotta take Ijichi home, he’s already thrown up twice. It’s gross.” Gojo was already halfway through his sentence before reaching the bar.

You assessed the new crowd of faces. Odd faces, all so well built and specific. Between the tall man in the darkest sunglasses you had ever seen in an already dark bar, the lithe woman with purple eyeshadow and the most perfect beauty mark, and the embodiment of tall dark and handsome— you wondered what exactly Nanami did for a living. Was there some kind of work force that employed only the hottest people you had ever seen. It took you a second to notice the younger, far drunker man with his arm slung around the black haired man with the gauges. The white haired man was still talking to Nanami, maybe arguing, but they spoke too softly for you to hear specifics. Both were cut off

“So do you want a ride home or are you good here?” Gauges asked eyes moving between you and Nanami coolly, before readjusting his hold of the nearly asleep fourth man.

The woman tapped on her phone, seemingly uninvested in what was happening, now barely holding onto their friend.

The white haired man cut in before Nanami could answer, “you hit those drinks pretty hard, Nanami. We don’t want you getting taken advantage of.” His face turned toward you and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt them.

Wow, like really felt them, he was sizing you up, it was clear. It was confusing, his inflection was teasing-almost joking, but his energy was severe.

Nanami was seething, mortified by the intrusion and Gojo’s crass assertion, “I can get myself home.”

It would have sounded more convincing if the slurring of his voice hadn’t married the words myself and home into a mess. You noticed, realizing for the first time that you were much more sober than him. His friends noticed too.

Nanami cleared his throat before speaking again, “I’m a grown man, I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojo. I’m enjoying my evening. Please take Ijichi home.”

Gojo didn’t seem convinced, turning his face back to you and finally sliding the sunglasses down his nose to reveal the bluest pair of eyes you had ever seen. They nearly glowed in the dim club. This gesture caused the others of the group to stiffen up. The woman finally putting her phone down, Gauges eyeing him carefully, even Nanami drew in a tense breath.

“We quite like our friend Nanami, we wouldn’t want him getting hurt.” He spoke directly to you, between his height and your seated position he leaned over you slightly, “are you someone we can trust our friend with?”

Nanami was about to cut in but before he could you met those azure eyes with yours, “I quite like your friend too.,” you copied his inflection, “ I understand why you’d be wary of some stranger taking him home. Since you have your hands full, I’ll watch him for the night. If he decides he needs a ride home, why don’t I call you directly?”

Nanami felt his jaw drop, looking between you and Gojo carefully. He caught Geto’s eye, seeing him smile lightly. No one talked to Gojo like this. Shoko chuckled softly, impressed with your lack of fear in the face of their “strongest” friend. There was no way for you to know the risk you were taking, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

“That is, if he would like to join me back to mine?” You continued, looking away from Gojo and back to Nanami.

“I’d like that very much.” Nanami answered quickly, in any other situation he would be embarrassed at how eager he sounded, especially in front of his friends. But you wanted to take him home, you wanted to keep talking to him, he could see where you lived, maybe you would let him kiss you, or touch you again.

“Give me your phone.”

The request snapped Nanami from his fantasy. Gojo held his hand out expectantly. To his surprise you handed over your cell phone. Gojo typed quickly, “This is my phone number and where Nanami lives. If I don’t answer, stick him in a cab to this address. Okay?”

“Okay. It’s nice to meet you, Gojo.” You attempted to ease the tension created, “I promise you’ve left him in good hands and I’ll return him to you in one piece.” You smiled warmly at him, cutting through the attempts at intimidation, even offering a small wink to Nanami over his friend’s shoulder.

You didn’t back down, you understood why anyone would be concerned about leaving their drunk friend with a stranger. It was a testament to how much he cared, he seemed completely sober himself. Playing DD, you assumed, was not a role he took lightly. You respected his protectiveness, you had done nearly the same on many occasions. If this is what Nanami’s friends were like, you would definitely fit in. You glanced down at where Gojo had written in the notes app of your phone. A string of numbers— his cell, and an address, Nanami’s, and below that another line, just for you.

Be nice to him, he’s more sensitive than he looks :)

Yeah, you would get along with this one. You smiled up at him and Nanami both before the dark haired man slung the full weight of the now completely passed out bespectacled man on his back in an attempt at a piggy back, and smiled to you warmly,

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Kento. Have a nice night.” Before turning and leading the group toward the exit. Gojo handed off Nanami’s jacket before pushing his glasses up his nose and turning around to follow.

With no more company, the two of you were once again alone. Nanami struggled to collect his thoughts before you soothed him, “Your friends are nice. They seem to really care about you. How long have you all worked together?”

“We all went to high school together.”

“And you’re still friends? That impressive, I barely keep up with friends from that long ago.”

“We’re, sort of, stuck with each other.” Nanami started, caught in the trap of having to figure out some way to explain his job without, actually, explaining his job. Thankfully, you cut that conversational thread and moved forward.

“I hope I wasn't too forward. You don't have to come back to mine. I felt like we were just getting to talking and I didn’t want to cut it short yet. But please don’t feel obligated.” You wanted to assure him that he could proceed however he wanted to. Despite how hopelessly attracted to this man you were, you recognized your responsibility as the more sober party to remain respectful.

“No I want to!” He blurted, not thinking about his volume, quickly standing.

You laughed, “I didn’t mean now! If you want to stay and have another drink, or dance more, that's good too.”

His resolve was starting to crack, it had been nearly an hour since he first saw you enter the club. He wanted desperately to be alone with you, suddenly the club was too hot and too crowded and too loud. Everything was overwhelming, and the only thing he wanted to overwhelm him was you.

Still standing he stepped in toward you a sudden surge of confidence lowering his voice and causing his head to dip down to meet you at eye level, “I would, very much like to join you back at your place.”

His voice was dripping with want, the eroticism behind his words lidding his eyes and sending chills down the side of your neck. You let out a small shaky breath before standing up, chest nearly colliding with his, sending him back up to his full height.

“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. Stay here.”

You nearly ran to find Sophie and your mutual friends at a table of their own. Leaving Nanami to settle his tab and wait patiently at the bar for your return. Your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear the music. When you finally found her, you pulled her close to speak directly into her ear.

“I’m taking blondie back to mine. You all good here?”

She gave you a taunting oooh before smiling, “you really do work fast. Next time lets see if you can last two full hours before taking someone home.”

You rolled your eyes before giving her a tight hug and grabbing your jacket, “love you, text me when you get home.”

Waving to your other friends you turned on your heels and saw Nanami still standing at the bar patiently at the bar patiently. He hadn't pulled out his phone to pass the time, he simply waited, just as you had told him. God, if he could follow benign instructions like this so well, you can only imagine how well he would do with something more salacious. You had to relax, you knew nothing would happen tonight. He would come over and crash, and that was enough for now.

Nanami counted to six in his head over and over, trying to measure his breaths as though if he increased his oxygen intake he wouldn't be drunk anymore. The sides of his vision were fuzzy and dreamlike, ears hot, tongue a bit dry, all his physical indicators of intoxication were present. He paid his tab, the only things on it were your and his brief shared drink. Realizing that since Gojo( maybe Geto?) had purchased the earlier rounds, he actually had no way of knowing how much he had had tonight. What had he gotten himself into? His attempts to sober up proved inefficient because just as quickly as you had left, you were standing in front of him once more wearing your jacket and sliding your purse over your shoulder. You still looked so beautiful,

“Ready?”

He nodded, “Ready.”

And now he sat in the back of a cab, behind the driver, you on the other side. Had he remembered to open the door for you? Had you two waited outside for the cab to pull up long? A window had been cracked allowing fresh, night air to brush past his face. Your thumb ran over the back of his hand. You were holding his hand. He looked down to confirm that your fingers were interlocked with his resting on the middle seat between the two of you. They looked good like that, his long fingers laced with yours. How long had you been holding hands? Eyes wandering he saw the skin of your thigh where your skirt had ridden up, he wanted to feel your leg against his, the space between you in the backseat suddenly feeling cavernous.

“You’re so far away.” he mutters, not really intending to say so out loud.

Without saying anything you giggled and scooted closer to him, moving your joined hands into your lap and your leg right against his. You tipped your head up to look at him, he wanted desperately to kiss you. Just as he began to lean into your lips you stopped him with your fingers.

“Not yet.” was all you offered him as conciliation.

He nodded, lips still restrained by your fingertips. The faint smell of the lime you had squeezed into your drink still lingering. Even just having his lips on your fingertips sent his body into a frenzy. But he was a patient man. Drunk or not, he knew how to wait for what he wanted. Still, he allowed himself to indulge a little, he kissed your finger tips before pulling back with a sigh, nodding silently.

The rest of the drive was quick, or at least it felt quick. You lived in an apartment building and when the cab pulled up outside, you handed over a few bills before sliding out of the door closest to you. Nanami began to move toward his before it opened suddenly. You had opened his door for him and were now offering your hand to help him out. He stared up at you entranced, he felt romanced by you. It dawned on him that he had truly let himself be “picked up”. Taking your hand he exited the car and tried to think if he had ever had this happen before. Women approached him sure, men too, but whenever he allowed himself to spend the night with someone they had always come back to his place. It allowed him a sense of control, and thus comfort in a vulnerable situation. Vulnerability did not come naturally to him, not now anyway. He wasn't prudish or uncomfortable with casual sex, but he liked to remain the organizer of them. Much like everything in his life he liked it to remain under his control. But tonight, you had steered him right to your door and he was so willing, it dawned on him only once that maybe he could have gotten himself in a dangerous situation. He barely knew anything about you, he knew your name, and now where you lived, but the rest of you was a mystery to him. And yet here he was, following you down the hallway to your apartment door truly not caring what could be on the other side as long as it meant more time with you.

You hesitated at the front door, holding your keys in one hand, aimed at the lock.

“I want you to know I’ll call your friend whenever you like. If you decide you want to leave, you just say so and It won't be a problem. You won't hurt my feelings and it doesn’t have to be awkward.” It felt redundant at his point, but you couldn't shake the discomfort of having taken him home in this state. He had nodded off briefly in the cab, holding your hand tightly, before coming too and staring at you with wide eyes. You nearly backed off then and redirected the driver to the address his friend-- neigh, Bodyguard-- had written down. But then he had wanted you to come closer, and tried to kiss you. You knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but still he sought you out.

Gnawing the inside of your lip you looked up at him nervously, waiting for his response. Nanami looked down at you, his already drooping eyes still warm toward you, “I really like you. I think you’re beautiful. I bet you're a great decorator, can I please see what you’ve done to your apartment?”

His response made you laugh again. He Hadn't really answered you, but it was clear what he wanted. You weren't sure if he was intending to be funny, but nonetheless, the anxiety you had just felt slipped away once again and you turned the lock, leading him inside. You liked your apartment, it wasn't the nicest place available. But it was a two bedroom you could afford by yourself, with a good sized kitchen and small personal patio. Frankly, you were lucky to have even found it. You were a good decorator, and you were proud of the job you had done with the interior. A large, well managed and organized bookshelf along one wall with a recliner and side table, art along the walls you had collected since first moving away from home. A medium sized brown couch that was perfect for movie nights with Sophie or an afternoon nap. You had made a home here, and you were thankful for the chance to show it off.

“Wow…” Nanami’s voice sounded nice inside of your home.

“You like it?” you began to shed your jacket, hanging it on a tree rack by the door and clicking on a few lights. You offered to take his coat.

“It’s beautiful, so warm.” Nanami began to slip his jacket down his shoulder, suddenly realizing he didn't actually remember putting it on, “you did all of this yourself?”

You barely heard his question, distracted by the way his shirt stretched over the muscles of his back, “Uh.. yeah. I moved in about three years ago. So it's been a process but I’m pretty proud of how it turned out.”

You turned to hang his coat next to yours, even they looked cute together. He removed his shoes carefully, still stumbling a bit before he took a few steps into your apartment’s main room.

“Why don’t you take a seat.” you gestured to the couch

He sat gracelessly, cushion sinking more under him than he expected. His couch at home was pretty stiff, yours was soft and pliant under his weight. He steadied himself again, feeling embarrassed suddenly.

“I dont usually drink like this, I drink.. Just not so….like this?” He attempted to save some face in the wake of his stumble.

You stood by the edge of the couch before moving into the kitchen area.

“Are you hungry? I could make us something before bed.” You offered, more needing an escape from the building sexual tension than feeling any actual hunger.

“Oh I couldn’t put you out like that…” He started, feeling his limbs get heavy with comfort as the softness of your couch lulled him to lay down. It wouldn't hurt to just lay down a little, right?

“It's no trouble, really! We may feel better in the morning if we eat something now.” you called from behind him. Your voice seemed further away somehow as he pressed his cheek against the soft suede beneath him.

The couch smelled so good, like incense and home cooked food. He wondered if you had a pet he hadn't yet seen, or if you wanted one. Were you a dog person? Or did you prefer cats? Maybe you were one of those people into reptiles, he could learn to love one if you wanted him to. In this state he would do anything you asked him. Which was precisely why he wasn't getting the one thing he wanted from you, he buried his frustrated expression further into the couch. A small groan exiting his lips. Your hand brushed the back of his neck, rousing him back to attention.

“Kento, honey? You still with me?” your voice was so sweet saying his name, he wanted to hear it again. Once he looked up at you he saw you had a glass of water in your hand offering it to him, “Are you good to sleep in these clothes or should I look for something for you to wear?”

He was still in his dress clothes, not his work dress clothes, but not exactly lounge wear. His button up was stiff and pants had been well tailored, hell, he was still wearing his belt, “thank you.” he accepted the water, and by proxy your offer.

He was left alone in your living room. Slurping down the cool water he tried once against to regain his composure. Had he fallen asleep again just now? You seemed to have abandoned the idea of eating so he must have drifted off. This job really had run him ragged.

“They still may not be the right size, but they’ll work for the night I think.” You returned from the side room, presumably your bedroom, with a pair of black sweatpants, “They used to be my brother’s, but they've got some paint stains from when I redid the bathroom. Sorry I don't really have anything else.”

He accepted them graciously, setting the water down on a coaster before standing, “Thank you, this is all very nice of you. Letting me stay the night like this, I'm really not usually like this…”he started to repeat himself.

“It's really no trouble, it's been a long time since I let a man as handsome as you sleep on my couch.”

The couch. So he wouldn't be joining you in bed tonight. Part of him had hoped that even though he wouldn't be sleeping with you tonight, he could at least sleep in your bed, “The couch, huh?” His half awake state allowed the thought to slip out half formed.

“Mhm, the couch. You two seem to have really hit it off. I'm certain the drool puddle wasn't there when I left.” You pointed to a small wet spot on the cushion where his face had been.

Once again the embarrassment of his current state shot through his body like electricity, so he had fallen asleep again. He hung his head cringing at himself, “Oh jesus…I cant believe this.. I’m--”

You cut him off, “You really don't need to be sorry. I like having you here. And tomorrow morning maybe we can have coffee and talk some more. I hope you don't think I was just inviting you over to fuck you.”

His breath caught, “No, I- well.. I thought you--”

“I, of course, want to fuck you. And I don't really see any point in hiding it anymore now that you’re here. But it’s just not going to happen tonight. And I don't think I'll get a wink of sleep next to you when all I can think about is that. Does that make sense?”You were tired, you didn't want to be coy and demure anymore. You wanted to be frank and upfront about how you felt and what you wanted. Nanami nodded understandingly, although still a little surprised at your confession. You continued, “So, you’ll sleep here. I’ll sleep in my bed. I usually wake up at 8, the door to my bedroom is unlocked. If you need anything during the night, please don't hesitate to wake me up. The bathroom is the door behind you, you can change in there.”

Nanami was awestruck by your instructional tone, it sent his mind in a thousand directions; thinking of you telling him house work that needed to be done on the weekend, to you telling him exactly how to please you. He wanted you so badly, pants growing tighter, breath getting heavier. You stepped forward, nearly right up against his chest.

“I hope you're not too disappointed that I won't take advantage of you tonight.” Your voice soft.

“I respect your self control.” His eyes were locked on your lips, so plump and soft looking.

“I’m going to bed,”You leaned in closer, so close he could smell your perfume again, still as hypnotic as it was in the club, “Goodnight, Kento.”

You pressed your lips against his cheek. His body shuddered as your lips lingered there before you pulled away back on flat feet. Trying desperately to regulate his racing heart, Nanmi looked at you desperately.

“Goodnight.”

You turned back to the side room hitting a wall switch to extinguish the kitchen light before closing your bedroom door and leaving him in your dimly lit living room. He could still feel your lips burning on his cheek, he stood for a few seconds not wanting any other sensations that could potentially dull this one. Finally, he shed his pants, folding them haphazardly and setting them on your recliner. He sweatpants you had given him fit okay, the drawstring was broken so they hung pretty loose around his hips, showing just the elastic of his briefs. He undid the rest of his shirt buttons and folded it to stack atop his pants. He hoped you wouldn't mind, but he never slept with a shirt on. Honestly, he didn't usually sleep with pants on either, he already ran hot but sleeping was an entirely different story. Sleeping fully clothed almost always culminated in him waking up in a pool of sweat as though he had just broken a fever. Laying on his back on the couch he pulled a throw blanket over him, mind racing with thoughts of tomorrow.

In your room you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You had returned to your room like every night, put on an old t shirt and shorts as you always did, washed your face and brushed your hair as though it was any old night, turned on your white noise and gotten into bed as if there wasn't the most attractive and charming man you had ever met settling in to sleep on your couch at this very moment. The nights events played and replayed in your mind on a loop, the intensity of his gaze across the floor, the way he had materialized right in front of you, the feeling of his body pressed up behind yours, his hands on your back back, his hand in yours, him asking to kiss you in the cab, him snoring softly on your couch, the way he had looked at you as he said goodnight. You had never felt so pulled toward another person before. It was far from a perfect night, on a perfect night you’d be fucking each other blind until the sun came up at this very moment. On a perfect night you wouldn't have even been in that club, you would already be his, spending romantic evenings reading and cooking. You wondered if he liked to read, what his favorite meals were, if he wanted pets, if he would want to move in here or if he’d ask you to move in with him. You recognized the street name of his address, he lived in a far nicer part of the city than you did. You wondered what his place looked like, if he had decorated it personally or if he had help. God, you haven't even asked if he had a girlfriend. You checked for a ring while you were dancing, but you got so caught up that the idea of a girlfriend hadn’t even crossed your mind. You rolled onto your side trying to relieve some anxiety, he didn't have a girlfriend. You met his friends, they were intense, sure. And sure, one of them had lightly threatened you, but it didn't seem like the threat was rooted in a fear of infidelity. It seemed like the threat came purely from a safety standpoint.

Were you being irresponsible? Was it smart of you to have brought him here so easily? You rarely brought hook ups here, almost always opting to follow them home and politely excuse yourself in the morning. You found yourself bending so many of your usual rules for him, giving your information to his friends, leaving the club so quickly, bringing him to your apartment. Nanami was so big and looked so strong, it probably wouldn't take a lot for him to overpower you. You had practically offered yourself to him on a silver plate. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to be afraid of him. You couldn't say that you knew him well enough to know he was safe, but you just…trusted him. And you felt that he trusted you too.

Your lips still tingled from kissing him. It was just a goodnight kiss, a simple gesture intended to convey continued interest but the end of the conversation around sex. You could call it chaste, even. And yet here you were, lips feeling electrified from a mere two second kiss on the cheek. Whatever product he uses in his hair smelled incredible, like honey or tobacco or sandalwood. Something organic and masculine. The soft sound of surprise he had let out when you touched the back of his sleeping neck resounded in your ears. His voice was so pretty, your mind attempted to conjure what he could sound like when he climaxed. If he would let out a low, husky groan, or if he would whine and beg you for more. You felt your pussy dampen at what your imagination offered you. Thoughts of him were consuming you, seconds moving by glacially as you begged for sleep to take over and bring the beautiful, sober light of day through your bedroom window. When it finally did your dreams were abstract but they were blue and honey and blonde.

Nanami could already feel his head pulsing before he opened his eyes. Oh God. When he finally did manage to pry his eyes open, he found himself not looking at his bedroom wall. He wasn't in his bedroom at all. He wasn't in his bed. Where the fuck was he? He sat up slowly, head pounding and back aching. He took in his new surroundings: he was on a couch, there were his clothes folded on the chair, he remembered taking them off, he looked to the coffee table and saw a glass of water mostly untouched with two small painkillers next to it. It must have been left there by you. YOU! This was your apartment, he had slept on your couch in your apartment! Memories of the previous night came screaming back against his aching head. The club, the shots, meeting you, dancing, you taking him home, you taking care of him-- oh god he was so drunk. Had he really fallen asleep twice? He was mortified. He didn't know if he could face seeing you. He remembered Gojo’s threats and his cheeks burned both in embarrassment and rage, where does he get off acting like some kind of guardian over him. Then again, if he was that drunk then maybe he needed it…maybe just not that one. He stood up on shaky, sore legs, even these pants weren't his. He needed to leave before he embarrassed you or himself any further. This was a mistake, he can't believe he let himself get so carried away, you must have thought he was some drunken fool who cant take care of himself. Maybe he was a drunken fool who couldnt take care of himself.

He unfolded his pants and wracked his brain for whether you had told him which door was your bathroom so he could change back into his own clothes. Just as he was trying to remember which door you had said led to the bathroom, you emerged from the side room yawning.

“Good morning!” You stretched a bit as you walked into the kitchen, “I hope you weren't planning on running off before I got out here. I set the coffee to make enough for two and if you don't drink part of it, I'll be buzzing for the rest of the day.”

The lilt of your laugh brought it all back. He knew exactly how he let himself get carried away. You were magnificent, even more beautiful in the morning light, hair undone, legs exposed under your sleep shorts, what appeared to be a well loved sweatshirt hanging off your shoulders. You took his breath away, he couldn't believe you were actually real. Not some dream his drunken state had conjured to torment him.

You were so grateful to have your back turned on him, it was stupid of you to assume he would have slept in that button up, and you hadn't given him a shirt to wear, despite having an extensive collection of oversized t-shirts that would certainly have covered him. But seeing him shirtless in your living room just for the duration of your walk from bedroom to coffee maker was enough to nearly make you falter right then and there. He was so, fucking, built. How does one even get a body like that, did he live at the gym? He hadn't really explained what it was he did for work, was he a trainer? You weren't really a big gym person, but you could be convinced to start going if it meant watching him huff and puff and sweat.

“Good morning. I don't know where to begin…”, His voice was the same as the previous night, low and smooth, but this morning it was more reserved, more even and controlled, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out last night. I really can't believe my own behavior. I’m truly sorry.”

You turned to face him, you were expecting some kind of hangover induced remorse, but he sounded genuinely apologetic, as though he had imposed himself upon you rather than having been invited as a guest.

He continued, “I know it doesn't mean much, but I don’t go out very often. I had had a rough few weeks at work and my friends wanted to help me loosen up a bit. Apparently I did a little too good of a job with that part. I'm so sorry to have put you out, I hope your night wasn’t ruined by having to take care of me. I'm grateful to you, I'm just so…”

“How do you take it?” you cut him off before allowing him to apologize to you once again, turning back around to the two cups of coffee you had poured.

“Excuse me?”

“Your coffee,” you opened the fridge to see if you even had any milk to offer him.

“I--”

“I have sugar, or honey if you prefer, and then I don't have any cream but i do have oat milk. I usually take mine with one sugar. How do you take yours?”

Nanami was beside himself, mid flagellation, completely shut down and now once again having to ask something of you, “One sugar is perfect.”

You dropped about a teaspoon of sugar into each mug, giving them both a quick stir before setting the spoon in the sink and walking over to the couch to meet him. Getting close you saw that his freckles did extend down onto his shoulders. Small scatterings of cinnamon dusted on fair, even skin. You handed him one mug, your favorite mug actually, it was dark blue and hand thrown. You had bought it at an art fair when you first moved to town, you’d tell him that story eventually.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me. I’m glad I met you last night. And I’m glad you stayed over. And I'm especially glad you're still here now.” You took a seat on your usual spot on the couch, to the right of him. He was still standing, body facing the kitchen but face watching you intently, now holding his mug but not drinking. You patted the spot next to you on the couch. He sat down, silence fell between the two of you as you sipped your coffee again. He followed suit, the steaming drink already starting to soothe his hangover. He couldn't help the soft moan the escaped him, drinking down the relief of caffeine.

“Taste okay?” you checked in.

“Its perfect. Thank you.” he felt himself loosen up, his brain choosing to be kinder and remind himself of the parts of last night that had gone well. Making you laugh, making you smile, dancing with you, the smell of your hair, your lips on his cheek. You were sat facing him, back against the arm of the couch, legs curled in front of you, he sat up right with his feet planted on the ground, allowing his poster to relax a bit and lean against the back of your couch.

You took his relaxation as an opportunity to take him in. So this was what he was like in the morning: shyer, a bit stiffer, still so fucking handsome. His brown eyes were still a bit droopy with sleep (and likely a bit of light sensitivity), a light impression of the hem of your couch cushion had imprinted itself on his cheek, his hairstyle had fallen and his blonde strands now hung loosely in front of his face. And he still hasn't put a shirt on. His torso was like something in a museum. Strong, broad shoulders sat atop full, muscle built pectorals. The hair there was light and looked soft, it became darker and coarser leading down his toned stomach. You longed to run your tongue over every inch of him, but chose instead to sip your coffee and gawk somewhat openly. Finally the silence became too much and you spoke up again,

“When do I need to have you back to your bodyguard?” you teased sliding your knee to bump against his.

“My-- oh, Gojo, don’t worry about him. He’s likely forgotten all about it.” Nanami tried to cover up the hopefulness in his voice. “Do you have anywhere you need to be today?”

It was a Friday, it was plausible you would have to go into a job today, but he didn't know what you did for work so it was equally plausible that you, like him, were off. To his delight you shook your head, smiling coyly over the rim of your coffee cup, leaning back against the throw pillows he had arranged to rest his head last night. Feeling more confident now that he had shaken off the initial mortification, Nanami scooted closer to you on the couch, setting his mug down on your coffee table. He moved one hand to gently take your mug and place it on the coffee table beside his. He then put his hands at the top of your knees and pulled you closer to him, so you were nearly sitting in his lap.

“So I have a question.” He kept his hands on your legs as he spoke.

“Mm?” you were too stunned to form any actual words.

“Last night, you said something to me. Something about wanting to wait until this morning to fuck me,” he shocked himself at his boldness, “how do you feel about that now?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly all encompassing as his hands touched your skin, this was the most you had touched since the dance floor. His fingertips felt like they were burning you, but the way a hot bath burns your skin just before it becomes relaxing.

This was it, you met his eyes, flicking down briefly to his lips, then back up,“I am still, very interested. What about you.”

Nanami moved one hand over your shoulder, to the back of your neck, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your lips and he spoke, “I can't believe you made me wait all night.”

He pushed his lips to yours, finally feeling the kiss you both had waited so desperately for. His lips were so soft, the coffee you prepared lingering on both of you. His hand on your neck rose to tangle in your hair and yours reached out to find his neck, his shoulder, his hair-- fucking ANYTHING. He leaned over you slightly, catching a momentary moan and sliding his tongue between your lips, he found himself moaning, feeling your tongue slide against his. Your hands were on his back now, feeling the muscles flex and retract at every turn of his head or readjustment of his hands. The hand not on your head how found your waist, sliding up and down your form savoring every roll and bump and divot his fingers could find. Finally, fucking finally he could touch you, his lips slotted against yours over and over, allowing your tongues adjust and readjust, it was messy and desperate and so passionate, Nanami kissed you like he would never kiss you or anyone else every again. Like a man who knew he could die tomorrow and never again know the warmth of a kiss this intense. You pulled away briefly for air and before his hungry lips could pull you back down you started to remove your top. He met your hands half way and finished the motion for you, you hadn't put a bra on since waking up, opting instead for the thick sweatshirt instead. Your chest was now as exposed as his was. As desperate as he was to have your lips on his again, he took a moment to admire you. Your breasts were full, and round enough to fit perfectly in his grip, nipples hardened already in your exhilaration, still so reactive for him. He wondered if you were wet already, and if so- how wet were you. He couldn't wait to find out. He was staring, lost in his thoughts of how best to appreciate everything you were giving him. So much care, so much trust, your beautiful body. He wanted to know how best to show you what it meant to him.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. Since you shed your top he was staring at you. You didn't mind it at first, but it was starting to make you self conscious. You weren't insecure about your body, but the intensity of his gaze, how you could nearly hear his mind racing, made you desperate to know what he thought. Finally he broke his gaze away from your chest, raising up one hand to hold your right breast firmly, he looked deep into your eyes moving to kiss you again, softer and more intimately but still just as passionate as before.

“So beautiful…” he said in between kisses, “Even better than I imagined. You’re so beautiful.”

You moaned against his lips as he massaged your chest. He redirected his kisses down the side of your neck, across your collarbone and right to the breast held in his hand. He kissed around the nipple before finally taking it into his mouth. A haughty moan was pulled from you as he sucked hard, eyes flicking up to watch you arch under his mouth. He moved to the otherside, and your hand took refuge in the short hair at the back of his neck. The cropped undercut left little to grip, so your nails dug lightly into his scalp. He moaned around your nipple, eyes rolling back slightly, and hips jutting into the couch involuntarily.

You marvel at his reaction, letting out a small chuckle before moving your nails across his hair again, “You like that?”

He nods wordlessly, mouth still full of you. He knew he was kissing hard enough to bruise, he didn't care. The taste of your skin, the feeling of your body under his, of your fingers in your hair had him feeling drunker than last night. He couldn't get enough of you, he was truly insatiable. He began to move to return to the first side of your chest when you pulled him back up to your mouth, kissing him hard.

“‘Need you.” you pleaded against him

“Need you too, so fucking bad.” He agreed, leaning back upright, and bringing you with him.

You pulled off and stood up quickly, your boobs bouncing as you moved, he would have been embarrassed of the sizable tent growing in the borrowed sweatpants, if he had had any remaining brain power to think about anything other than fucking you. But he didn’t. He stood up and followed you into your bedroom. You had a queen bed, a small wardrobe, a vanity table that appeared to double as a work desk and maybe moonlighted as a craft station. He couldn’t wait to find out what clothes went in what drawers, maybe eventually you would let him keep some of his work clothes here so he could spend the night on weekdays. You turned to face him before reaching the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down once again to kiss you. His hands fell to your exposed waist, the skin so soft and supple, they teased along the topline of your shorts, lingering to be told the next move. Without him having to ask, you nodded against his lips, and his hands dipped underneath the waist band, finding not underwear but only skin. His hands gripped into the meat of your ass, pulling moans from both of you. Your own hands had slipped down his stomach and began to remove the second hand pants from him as well. Finding the tangled up positioning complicated, you both pulled away briefly to remove the last of your clothing before you led him in climbing on the bed. He followed suit, ogling openly at how your body curved and folded and stretched with every motion. You were nearly serpentine the way your hips shifted climbing onto your bed. His cock was so hard between his legs, pre cum dripping onto your comforter as he followed your crawl. As you turned onto your back, he was right behind you, moving himself between your legs to meet your lips once more. A hand started on the back of one of your thighs, causing you to shiver deliciously.

“You're so sensitive.” He praised, sliding a finger feather light from your ass to the back of your knee.

You mewled unabashedly, proving his point. Finger trailing back down, his hands now gripped both of your thighs, he was on his knees before you, parting your legs further to finally, FINALLY look right at your glistening wet pussy. He nearly fainted at the sight. Lower lips parted to reveal the most beautiful, most delicious looking pussy he had ever seen. He couldn't stop himself, he leaned right down and planted a kiss directly onto it. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation, the taste, the smell, the feel of your pussy lips against his mouth, soft pubic hair brushing his nose and he gave a long lick from bottom to top.

“Thank you,” he was so grateful to you. For last night, for taking care of him, for being here this morning, for being here at all, he couldn't believe he had found you like this, and he planned to make the most of his chance.

Never in your life had you been thanked by someone eating your pussy. But here was Kento Nanami devouring you like he hadn't eaten in weeks and whimpering gratitudes into your wetness. You hadn't had time to even realize his intentions before he pushed his tongue between your lips, and once he had your brain had short circuited, causing you to assume the initial “thank you” had been all in your head. It wasn't until it was a mantra he clung to while increasing his ferocity that you realized he really was thanking you. Your hands flew to his hair again, this time pushing back the longer strands in the front that had gathered in his face. You pulled hard when he first sucked your clit into his mouth, the moan he let out sent vibrations up your body and added to the pleasure he was already giving you. Your legs were over his shoulders, your hands in his hair, his mouth was taking you apart one lap at a time, one of his hands found your breasts again, there was so much sensation it was like he knew precisely how to make you unravel before him.

Nanami didn't even realize he was rutting his hips into your mattress, his body desperately seeking friction to his painfully hard cock. He didnt think he had been this hard in years, he couldnt think at-fucking-all. The only thing on his mind was how good you tasted, how pretty you sounded above him, he wanted to hear you say his name, he wanted to make you say his name. He brought his free hand up and slid two of his fingers up and down your folds, getting them thoroughly wet before stopping them just in front of your already clenching hole.

“Do you want these?” his voice is even lower than before, mouth pornographically drenched in you.

You nodded helplessly, just looking at him between your legs threatening to make you cum. He gave a rough squeeze to the breast he held, “No.” he corrected, “ask me.”

You knew what game he wanted to play now, you knew he could tell how much wetter you had just gotten at his darker tone and rougher grip, the tiny showcase of his strength already sending your mind reeling to know how rough he could really get with you. But not right now, now you needed him, any of him, inside of you more than you needed air. So you’ll play along.

“Please, oh fuck please Kento, please put your fingers inside me, i need it. I need it so bad, please.”

More than pleased with your efforts, he slides his fingers into you, they go in so easily, youre so fucking wet. He resumes his meal, already itching to taste you again, now using his fingers to draw even more wetness out of you and onto his tongue. He curls his fingers slightly upward and your moans raise in pitch. He’s hit it, if he keeps this up you’ll cum in no time. You're panting, your moaning, you’re nearly screaming and Kento continues to thrust his long fingers into you, hitting your g spot with inhuman accuracy. You can feel it, you’re nearly there.

“K-Kento i’m..oh fuck i..I’m cumming of fuck I--”, a half scream-half moan rips through your lungs robbing you of the end of your sentence as he pulls your orgasm out of you. You're shaking, you’re pulling his hair, you’re repeating his name over and over until it's completely garbled in your mouth. He takes everything you give him, holding your hips down firmly so you stay connected to his mouth, not letting up with his fingers until he's satisfied you’re through the totality of your first climax. He continues lazy licks as you come down from your high, slowly easing out his fingers and sucking those clean as well.

From your spot on your back you look down at him still panting and dazed from cumming harder than you thought possible with another person. You and your trusty vibrator had made some good memories, but you never expected someone could make you cum like that on the first try. He knew it too, he could see it on your face as he savored the remnants of your cum on his fingers. You moved your hands to his shoulders, weakly pulling, urging him to come up to you. He followed your lead and moved his body over you. You could finally see how fucking hard he was. And how fucking big he was. Just by looking you had to assume he was seven or eight inches long, and he was thick, thicker towards the head than at the base, two pretty veins wrapped around him, the tip was so pink it was nearly red, sticky with precum and still weeping. It curved upward, wanting to rest against his lower abdomen, and the darker blond hair there that grew at the base of him. He clearly kept it groomed, it not being too long or unkempt, but you were grateful it was there. The monstrous thing would probably only look more intimidating without it.

He could see that you were doing the same mental calculations he had seen in every partner he had ever had, and he tucked away the immature arrogant pride and chose to instead kiss the side of your mouth, along your jaw, and up to the shell of your ear,

“It’ll fit, you're already so wet for me, and if it doesn't fit all in one go, that's okay. We can work our way up to it. Trust me.” He kissed your neck soothingly, and that was all you needed. You could already feel yourself dampening again, you wanted so desperately to please him, had just made you cum so hard, you had to at least try to settle the score. Finding his lips once again, you pulled him into another desperate kiss, this time trailing your hand down and wrapping your hand around his cock. Using his already collected precum to coat his shaft, you moved your hand up and down a few times, trying to find the right rhythm before his hand gripped your wrist sternly, forcing you to look him in the eye,

“I nearly came already just from eating your pussy, if you touch me like that I’ll cum right now and I have to be inside of you at least once before then.” he moves your hand away from him and above your head. You keep it there, although direction is ungiven, and he seems pleased by this. He moves to his knees between your legs, Wrapping your legs around his waist, he grips his desperate cock and slides it against your pussy, collecting as much arousal as he can. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows how big he is, he knows if he bottoms out without enough prep it won’t feel good for you the way it would for him, he wants you to feel good. He wants you to make that sound again. That pretty scream of his name and pure pleasure. You watch him as he becomes laser focused on the point where you'll be connected in mere moments, you feel honored, in a way to see him like this. He’s being so attentive, so thoughtful and he's making you feel so good. Your hand reaches up and touches the side of his face, and he leans into your palm, nuzzling into it.

“I trust you, Kento. Please, baby, fill me up, I need you so bad, please fuck me.”

He presses a kiss to the heel of your hand, the light breaks in your voice making cock twitch in his own hand, he can’t wait any longer, he begins easing himself inside. He tries, he really tries to go as slow as he can, but hes so fucked out and desperate he cant control his movements as well as he usually would. Feeling him push inside of you, you’ve never been so full in your life, he stretches you so nicely, a slight burn but the combination of foreplay and your first orgasm soothe any pain or anxiety you may have had. His eyes are closed, his brows are furrowed, lips parted and still wet. He looks so beautiful like this. You think he's finally gotten all the way in as he stops his movements, you couldn't be more wrong, his hands lift your hips up slightly, more aligned with his pelvis and he slides back out an inch, before pushing the rest of his length inside of you. You feel him against your cervix, you feel him along every inch inside of you.

Looking down at you, he finally opens his eyes, you look so beautiful filled with him. Mouth dropped open, a warm flush settling over your chest and neck, one hand gripping his arm tightly, the other buried in the blanket beneath you. He wants to keep you like this forever, he attempts to push even deeper, seeing how far you can really take him. Gasping your back arches away from his grasp, but he pulls you back to him.

“Just like this, take it all. Look at you, such a good girl for me. Taking every inch.” His praise coaxes you to relax again. He's so deep inside of you, it feels amazing, “You think I can move now, baby?”

You nod desperately. He starts a slow thrust, opening you up little by little. He's hitting every spot inside of you, you don't know how but you can already feel another orgasm building from just the first few thrusts.

“How do you expect me to fuck you properly, when she wont let me go.” he teases above you, sliding his fingers in a V shape along your innermost fold, right where you’ve gripped around him so tightly.

“‘Mm sorry.” you gasp out barely registering the conversation.

“Oh fuck,” he sputters, finally able to pull completely out before diving back in.

Youre finally warmed up enough for him to fuck completely. He pulls on your legs to place over his shoulder as he deepens his thrusts. Your moans are syncing with his, his movements are starting to become jerky again, trying to control himself as much as possible, Kento brings a thumb to circle your clit making you see stars behind your eyelids, when you open your eyes the only thing you can see his him, gripping onto you leg firmly, staring intently at how well you’re taking him, watching himself move in and out of you. He feels you start to grow tighter around him before you can even start to whimper out,

“Fuck, fuck, kento I---aughhh.” you came around him with no warning,the feeling of you pussy spasming and tightening around him is nearly enough for him to lose his own. He releases a deep moan.

“Where can I cum, please baby, fuck where do you want me to cum, i’m so fucking close.” he can feel the sweat dripping down his face, he’s so dangerously close to blowing it inside of you. He wants to so badly, but he needs to hear you want him to.

“Inside, please, inside me, i need you to fill me up, please fuck.”

Music to his fucking ears, he carried on with his thrusts as you continue begging him to cum inside of you. Your wicked tongue is so dangerous, anything you asked of him in this moment he would do, as long as it meant he could stay like this forever. His thrusts grow shorter, faster, more frantic, he’s truly rutting against you, so deseperate for release the only word on his lips is a repetition of “fuck” and your name. It sounds so good coming from him, like he was born to say it. Finally, he lets out a long strangled cry, coming from low in his belly. You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as his release covers your inner walls. He thrusts a few more times, emptying himself completely before stilling his movements, still locked inside of you.

Heavy pants fill the room, cutting through the thickened air. Nanami collapses over you, resting his head on your chest, the sound of your heart quickening underneath him cutting a smile into his face. You brush the front of his hair off his head once more, cycling your fingers through the sweat-dampened strands. Contented, satisfied sighs escaped both of you, neither of you spoke, neither of you wanted to, not wanting anything to break up this bliss of this moment.

Morning light dripped through your window curtains, golden rays illuminating his features, the freckles on his cheeks, the soft wrinkles by his eyes, a small scar cut into the arch of one eyebrow. He really was beautiful, you wondered how many people had gotten to see him like this. A man of his stature, his strength, completely unguarded. One of his large hands found yours, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your fingers, so sweet, so intimate. You really could fall in love with him. Finally, he looked up to face you, eyes catching the light and turning gold, he winced lightly, still feeling the sensitivity of his hangover. You flattened your palm in the path of the sun’s beam, offering his tender eyes solace in the shade. The gesture is short lived as he moves up to press his lips against yours again, his still buried cock shifting and igniting your inner nerves once again. Feeling you begin to tremble, Nanami wills himself to pull out and move onto his back next to you, one large arm wrapping around you, desperate to not be parted from you for even a second. You rest your forehead against the side of his neck snuggling up to his side. His smell fills your nose, the lingering cologne that you first smelled on the club’s crowded floor, mixed with something so uniquely and naturally him. You felt his lips press onto your forehead, arms pulling you tighter to his side.

Kento was the first to break the silence, “would you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

Your lips curve warmly already imagining how handsome he’ll look like in a nice restaurant, candlelight flicking over his face, maybe he’ll even wear his glasses.

“I’d love that.”

Author’s notes:

Okay thank you guys! I hope you enjoyed!I know I did, I know I said it earlie but I haven’t written in forever so I would love to hear some feedback! Don’t be scared, I know I can take it!

it’s up on Ao3 too.

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