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iarchmybaculaa · 3 months ago

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18+!

Tags/warnings⚠️: Alcohol consumption, club setting, misunderstandings, angst if you squint, long haired Jungkook, Reader is a brat, angry Jungkook, unprotected sex (please do not practice that irl), rough sex, spitting!, breeding kink

Word count: 3.6k

🎧 : Sticky Rice-Lil Gnar, Reminder-The Weeknd, Party Monster- The Weeknd

For my loves: Tasara & @hobicakess 🩷

Beta’d by Shaq🫶🏾

A/N: I randomly found an edit in my gallery that inspired this whole thing. HEAVILY unedited bc I’m extremely sleep deprived rn so pls be nice!

Fic takes place about 4 years before "All mine" ! Enjoy?

Being married to Jungkook has single-handedly disproved every doubtful remark you've heard from everyone trying to convince you that it would be ill-advised to get married so young.

Contrary to what you've been told, the spark between has not died. In fact, you think that you find something new to love about Jungkook every day.

His love has never once not been intentional and gentle. You've never experienced being with someone who is so in tune with your body, with your mind, with your soul. Jungkook sees loving you as a competition; his only rival being his past selves.

There is no adventure that Jungkook would want to experience without you. There’s no bridge he wants to cross without holding your hand; no dance he wants to do without you beside him….or rather bent over in front of him as you are now.

The low lights of club Euphoria had switched to a dangerously deep shade of red, casting a sinful glow on your already ridiculously seductive face. Your eyes were low, whether it was from the few drinks you'd had earlier or the thick cloud of hookah smoke that floated around the club, Jungkook didn't know.

What he did know however, was that he had the most beautiful woman in the world throwing her ass back against him, in a dress so tiny that your cheeks were becoming more and more exposed as he thrust his hips forward to meet yours.

You move in sync with the music, your bodies in perfect harmony as the people around you become a blur. In that moment, it's just you and Jungkook. You and your husband.

You feel the cool air travel further up your legs as you dance. You reach behind you to pull your dress down, more out of habit than anything. You hear Jungkook groan as your hand ‘accidentally’ presses against his crotch, and you can't suppress the small giggle that escapes you.

It's a low sound, so realistically, Jungkook can't hear it that well over the near deafening music…But he sees the way your body shakes a bit. You shake the same way when you laugh at your own jokes or Jungkook's clumsiness; and he knows you well enough that he can practically hear the sound in his head.

Fuck he's in love with you.

He's so lucky to have you. He can't wait to live the rest of his life with you, to have a family with you, to take you home and fu-

His train of thought is cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks. He grabs your waist to stop your movements, and you stand upright. You raise a questioning brow at him.

“It's Namjoon hyung” he mouths, pointing to the phone at his ear.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. Namjoon had been on a work trip to London for the past few ( painfully long) weeks, and he still refuses to acknowledge the time difference. You two have grown to accept it, even if it means that he calls Jungkook at the most ridiculous (sometimes inconvenient) times.

The crackle of the receiver lets Jungkook know that Namjoon is talking, but he can’t make out a word he’s saying. Jungkook quickly realizes that he couldn't possibly have this conversation inside the club, so he gestures towards the door.

“I'm going to take this outside,” he says with his lips pressed up to your ear. “Do you want to come with me? Or will you be okay ‘till I get back?”

“I'm a big girl!” You pout up at him, pushing his glasses further up his nose with your pointer finger . “I’ll be fine, go take your call! Tell Joon I said hi.”

He nods and plants a quick kiss on the crook of your neck. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb and promises to be right back, before he turns on his heels. You watch as his head disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing alone and regrettably bored.

With Jungkook gone, you have nothing else to do since you two had come alone. You think standing around in a club like someone with a lost shadow would be incredibly lame. So you do what any unoccupied, married person in a club would do, you make your way to the bar to get a drink…or two.

By the time Jungkook gets back you're just a little tipsy.

You're not a stranger to alcohol per se, but unlike Jungkook who's been around enough liquor to know what blends would be good for you (strong enough to make you feel good, but not enough to make you lose your inhibitions); you don't know much (not enough if you ask him). You think of calling him, but your phone is in your purse… perched on jungkook’s shoulder.

So you do the most logical thing you can think of, and you order the prettiest sounding drink on the menu. Who can blame you?

You’re just a girl.

Two cups of Serendipity later, you're back in Jungkook's arms feeling absolutely giddy and incorrigibly horny.

The lights in the club are a dark blue now, and the music is even louder. Jungkook looks exactly the way he did when he left.

Sexy as all fuck.

Long hair tucked behind his hair on one side? Check.

Denim shirt? Check.

Tattoos? Double check.

Damn.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

You're not sure where he put his glasses, but you make a mental note to ask him before you leave. You do not need a repeat of the Geum putdwaeji Sikdang* incident. You know from experience that Jungkook and contacts don’t mix; and it would take over three weeks for them to get replaced…Not a fun time.

And right now? All you want to have is fun.

Jungkook’s mouth is moving, but your brain is moving too fast (or too slow) to read his lips and you can’t hear him. But his hands pull you toward him by the waist and you lean into his touch.

Your back is turned to his front as you move slowly against him the second you hear “she’s saying baby saenggakaji ma” float over the speakers.

Jungkook moves in sync with you as he always does, but his hands remain at your waist, almost rigid. His touch is shy and..Timid? His hands don’t trail up towards your breast, or towards your belly button. You find it odd, and downright ridiculous.

You grab his hands to take them upwards, and you’re instantly confused. There’s ink on both his hands? You pause.

When did Jungkook get a sleeve on both hands?

His lips brush faintly against your ear, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the absence of the cool metal of the rings that should be in his lip.

You don’t hear a thing except the erratic beating of your heart.

Then the inconceivable happens.

Jungkook stands in front of you, arms folded across his chest and eyes glaring at you through his glasses. The lights above you start flashing, and they bounce off his shiny, silver lip rings.

But if Jungkook is in front of you…who the fuck is behind you?!

You think you might faint.

As confused as you might have been about the situation, you knew two things for sure:

1. You needed to get as far away from not- Jungkook as possible

2. You're screwed.

Not-Jungkook seems to realize your mistake, and moves his hands from your waist so can step away from him; you rip yourself away from him as if his touch burns.

You open your mouth to say something to Real- Jungkook, but your brain goes blank.

You're too dunk for this.

Jungkook gives you a quick once- over to make sure that you're unharmed, before taking a gentle hold of your wrist. He tucks you behind him as he gives Non- Jungkook a piece of his mind.

The ringing in your ears has become so loud can't even hear the music anymore, much less their argument. Your brain feels like it's been doused in water, and you feel an unwarranted giggle making it's way up your throat. You swallow it down.

Now's not the time.

From what you can see, Real Jungkook and Not-Jungkook are having a very spirited conversation. Real Jungkook seems to be holding his composure quite well, until Not-Jungkook says something that causes his jaw to tick and his hands to form fists at his sides.

But instead of throwing a punch, Jungkook takes a deep breath and walks away, pulling you behind him.

Not- Jungkook waves at you.

You don't wave back.

Jungkook is silent as he leads you out of the club and towards your car. You say nothing as he opens the passenger door and watches as you sit inside.

“Do your feet hurt?” He asks

You shake your head at him. Still, he couches on his knees and unbuckles your heels, giving your calves a brief massage before he straps you into your seat. He closes your door and grabs a bottle of water from the back seat. He hands it to you as he settles behind the steering wheel.

“Drink.” He commands. His voice isn't necessarily angry but you can hear something bubbling beneath the surface. The restraint he's exercising is audible in his voice, and for some strange reason…it excites you.

He pulls out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to accelerate too fast so your water doesn't spill.

The fog around your brain is almost completely lifted by the time you've finished the bottle. Jungkook glances at you for a moment, and releases a satisfied hum when he sees the crumpled plastic in your lap.

He doesn't smile though.

His jaw is tense and his body is rigid in his seat. He isn't touching you and you don't like it.

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching over to touch his thigh

“Are you sure?”

You look at him confused. “Am I sure about what?’

“Are you sure I'm Jungkook?”

There it is.

You have the audacity to scoff at him.

“ Of course I'm sure it's you Jungkook. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?! You were literally grinding your ass all over some random dude you thought was me but I'm being ridiculous?!”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You know that Jungkook has all right to be upset, fuck you're upset at yourself for making such a terrible mistake. Jungkook has all right to reprimand you, but your mouth just won't cooperate with your brain. All the brat inside you heard, was Jungkook rubbing in something that you were already very embarrassed and flustered about and it just didn't seem fair.

If you thought about it…This was all Jungkook's fault really!

“ Well it's not my fault that you look like every other Korean dude with a perm!!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop as Jungkook slams the breaks.

“Excuse me?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms at your chest. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to where your tits are bulging, but only for a moment of course.

“Stuttering is your thing Jungkook. You heard me.”

“You’ve actually lost your fucking mind.” Jungkook marvels at you, completely in disbelief at your misplaced attitude.

“I should have bent you over my lap and spanked your ass raw in that fucking club for everyone to see… But I let you off so easy, because I knew you made the mistake because you were drunk; and this is the thanks I get?”

“No.” You quip, “I’m not thanking you in any way.”

The tension between you is as thick as it was during the first 3 months of you two flirting with each other. You were both in college, desperately holding on to the title of “study partners ” even though you kept finding yourselves in compromising positions.

You were both playing a timeless game of cat and mouse. A metaphorical tug of war. Jungkook would push and you would pull; now it appeared that you were having a rematch.

He sucks the pierced side of his lip into his mouth.

You want him so bad.

Jungkook’s eye twitches.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He asks, face so close to yours that you can practically taste him on your tongue.

“Give it to me then.” You challenge.

Jungkook leans forwards, and you close your eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

But Jungkook doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, though not hard enough to break skin.

You moan at the sting, reveling in the way his soft tongue soothes his claim.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lip, eyes darkening.

“Did he kiss you?” He grits out.

You frantically shake your head no.

It's then that you realize just how bad this could have truly been for you. Jungkook was right. You were getting off easy.

Jungkook pries your mouth open.

“Tongue out.” he says.

You loll your tongue out and look up at him expectantly for what you know is coming. Jungkook looks directly into your eyes as he spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being told to; it's almost like a reflex.

Jungkook is pleased.

“Who does that taste like, baby?”

“Tastes like you,” you reply.

Jungkook hums.

He grabs your hand and brings it over to his lap. Your breath hitches when you feel the telltale rigidness of a boner in his jeans. Your heart skips a beat as you realize how painfully hard he is.

You need him.

“What does that feel like, baby? Hm? Does that feel like me? Or are you not sure?”

You whine as he rolls his hips up into your palm. “It feels like you Jungkook, I want it.”

Jungkook’s face contorts into one of mock contemplation.

You hate when he gets like this, when he pretends to consider giving you what you want when you both know it's not going to happen.

"You want to know what I think?" he muses rhetorically.

"I think I've let you get away with a little too much lately. I've always told you that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but I've never made good on that promise, have I?" He chuckles darkly. "Maybe it's time I change that, hm?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and you feel a shiver of anticipation zoom down your spine.

“Unzip me.”

Your body is in autopilot as you undo his zipper and lean forward to take him inside your mouth.

He pulls you backwards by your braids, and brings his hand around your throat.

“You're gonna take me in your mouth and you're going to keep it there until we get home.” He growls out at you

“No licking, no sucking, no moving. By the time we get home I'll be tattooed so deep in your fucking brain that you'll never mistake someone else for me ever again.” he bites out.

But in true Jungkook fashion he brushes his lips gently against yours, then he shoves his dick down your throat .

The ride home is filled with the obscene noises of you trying not to choke on Jungkook's cock.

Your eyes are watering and your nose burns from how hard you've been breathing through it. Your chest feels hollow and your jaw aches, but you're too fucked out to care.

Jungkook's cargo pants are thoroughly soaked from the way your saliva has dripped all over him. You're sure it's beginning to get uncomfortable for him to sit like this: cock hard and throbbing and in your warm, wet mouth. Yet, he sits perfectly still; unmoving.

His breaths come out in slow, controlled gasps, and it becomes exceedingly clear to you that It's taking as much effort from Jungkook not to snap his hips upwards and fuck your throat; as it is for you to not give him an actual blowjob.

The realization is absolutely riveting.

When Jungkook pulls into the driveway of your flat, he lifts your chin up , and his dick slides out of your mouth with a wet plop.

You both try to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants, and takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car.

Like the gentleman he is, he walks over to the passenger side of the car and holds your door open for you. But when you don't make any efforts to get up, he bends down and looks expectantly at you.

You pout at him and point to your feet.

You're barefoot. Of course.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulder. You squirm a bit, and Jungkook promptly delivers a warning slap to your ass which settles you completely.

He opens the front door and kicks it shut behind him, waiting until he hears the security alarm activate before he moves towards your bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed and flicks the light on. Your chin is slicked with spit, you tits are spilling out of your dress, and the curly hair in your braids are sticky to the thin sheen of sweat on your face.

You look a mess.

A hot, beautiful mess that Jungkook made. His pride swells, along with another part of him.

Jungkook turns his back to you as he takes his shirt off.

“You know I love you right?,” he asks, putting his glasses on the nightstand. He tosses his shirt onto the ground and walks over to the bed. “You know that there's nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving you?” He asks, now face to face with you as he strokes your chin.

‘I do,” you reply, your voice comes out more of a whine than you actually want it to.

“That's great baby, because this is going to feel like I fucking hate you.”

***

You both cry out when Jungkook finally slips inside you.

You've come to accept that no matter how many times you've taken him, how many times you will take him you'll never not be taken aback by the way his cock stretches you.

The lights are on, and so you can see Jungkook in all his glory. You can see way his biceps bulge and the way his abs tense. You the way his face contorts as your pussy practically suffocates him.

“ You like what you see baby?” He taunts, “had to make sure that you can actually see who's fucking you hm? Wouldn’t want you to make another mistake now would we?”

He spits the word out as if it pains him to say, and translates that pain into a vicious snap of his hips that has you lurching forward, clawing at his chest.

His thrusts are all the same. Carefully calculated and deliciously hard. His tips brush against your gspot with every fluid movement of his hips, and all you can do is whine and beg.

At one point Jungkook slows down to a torturous pace. Pulling out of you the moment he's just shy of your gspot. You can't handle being teased, you won't. You decide to up the ante.

“Jungkook,” you moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he grinds into you “please make me cum daddy”

Jungkook freezes and his hips stutter.

You've never called him that before.

For a moment you regret letting it slip out of your mouth. That's until you see the crazed look that comes into Jungkook's brown eyes.

He wraps his hand around your throat and starts pistoning his hips into you.

“Daddy huh?” He grits out as your juices start leaking down your thighs and unto the skin of his stomach “ is that what you want baby? Wanna make me a dad? Hm? Maybe that way people will keep their fucking hands off you huh?”

“Jungkook please!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes from how desperately you want the sweet release you've been denied.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you princess? Gonna let me stake my claim on you for everyone to see?” He demands as he stills to a stop inside you.

“Fuck, Jungkook yes! Please I'll do anything you want just please!” You cry

Jungkook finally drives his cock upwards, it's curved head hitting your gspot at the perfect angle. Your orgasm rips through your body so violently that you sink your fingernails so deep into Jungkook's bicep that you break skin.

You cum in spurts, coating him in a thick sheen of your arousal. Jungkook cums with you, no longer being able to resist the pleasure that your body was bringing him.

Jungkook's cum spills out of him in a long, steady stream. You feel the warmth as it seeps inside you, and you clench around him reflexively, determined to keep all of it inside.

“You wanna have my babies so fucking bad.” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, voice hoarse and laced with fatigue.

And do, you mean to say, , though it never actually comes out of your mouth.

Instead, you hug jungkook to your chest, legs wrapped securely around his waist as sleep consumes you.

Fin.

#jungkook x black reader #dad jungkook #bts smut #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook

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offpagewebmaster · 2 years ago

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#CBD oil Glass Pipes Vaporizers Hookah store Smoke Shop Hemp Kratom Head Shop Disposable Vapes

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tetzoro · 27 days ago

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☽◯☾ - SMOKIN' ACES

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. portgas d. ace x f!reader ; dubcon as they are high, descriptive weed use, shotgunning, surprise voyeur alert (someone might be listening...), unprotected sex, dry humping, use of pet names (baby, good girl), impact play if you squint — WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist

The basement was a cozy little spot that only the members of the house and certain special guests could be privy to. During the notorious parties, it was a safe haven, a place of refuge- Somewhere to get some air, get away from the noise, and regroup with the people who meant most to you.

It was full of little touches from over the years. A series of disjointed chairs and faded couches all in a circle with a busted coffee table in the center that either had a bong or hookah on it, ready for community use.

Always playing chill music, full of wondrous paintings and vibrant murals that various friends have done — it was the clubhouse of all clubhouses and all run by the ASL boys themselves; Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.

The first member, the self-proclaimed founding member, is currently sitting next to you with a triumphant smile on his face, grinding up some weed. After the exhausting day at the beach, everyone has decided to go out to the bar instead of staying in for the night.

A part of you had wanted to go with them and maybe do a couple of shots and make out with someone for a little while. A night where your head was as fizzy as a champagne bottle and maybe you could get your mind off of a certain someone.

But then Ace had given you the look.

That look with those big brown puppy eyes of his that never failed to have you cater to his every whim — annoyingly so.

So you find yourself here, in the still smoke-filled air basement that was full of character from a group of the rowdy young adults you’ve come to know so well next to the man you’ve been pining over since the day you met him.

“I can't believe you dressed up like the dude from Magic Mike.” You flick his cowboy hat up, knocking it back and giving it a slightly disheveled look.

“Not just any dude, I'm dressed as Dallas.” Ace shakes his head, focused on rolling another joint in his favorite strawberry-printed rolling paper for the two of you to share. The one you had earlier burned out with the group and Ace had promised you another if you agreed to stay behind with him

“You just wanted an excuse to be shirtless.” Not that you were really complaining.

“First of all, I'm not shirtless.” Ace patted the unbuttoned vest that loosely hung over his taut frame. “Second of all, I did it for the hat that you so rudely hurt.”

“My apologies then.” The sarcasm drips from your tone and Ace casts you a sidelong glance, sticking his tongue out at you before using it to lick the joint.

“At least I was creative.” He says, his dark eyes trailing along your body. Even though he’s clearly appraising the outfit and not you, a chill runs down your spine. “Weren’t you a cat last year too?”

“Shut up, you know that Luffy ruined the angel wings I was going to wear.” Ace hands you the joint in surrender, motioning for you to go first as he fishes the lighter out from between the couch cushions.

You put it in your mouth, lips wrapping around the filter as the sparks fly. It illuminates the small space in front of you and casts a soft glow over Ace's freckled face.

Suddenly, he felt a little too close. You take in the way he carefully lights it for you, his tongue peeking out as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as the flame catches the paper, his eyes flicker up to yours.

You inhale, begrudgingly taking in some of the smoke of the wrap before it cherries at the end, an influx of weed hitting your lungs harsher than you intended.

“Easy now.” Ace tries to stifle his laugh as you cough a little, your head still reeling from the close proximity. He takes the joint from your fingers, gently brushing his against yours before taking a hit himself.

Ever the show-off, the smoke barely leaves his lips before he begins to inhale it through his nose. He smirks at you as he does it, effortlessly inhaling the thick flume of smoke.

“You’re so lame for gatekeeping that trick by the way.” You huff at the man across from you, taking the joint back from him to continue your sesh.

“I gotta have something to impress you, right?” Ace leans back on the couch a little more, eyes growing hazy and red as he watches you. His tattooed arm dangles off the back of the couch while you try not to take what he says to heart. But he looks back at you, head tilting a little so he peeks at you from under his hat. “But I suppose I can teach you something else.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Taking another hit, you let the smoke rush through your lungs and let it saturate every bit while it screams in protest the longer you hold onto it. Ace shifts ahead, leaning in so he’s closer to you and spreading his legs so his thigh brushes against yours.

“You really wanna know?” His warm breath caresses your ear as he speaks, his nose barely nudging the lobe. The sudden seductive shift in his voice throws you off your axis and plummets you into his gravitational pull.

“Yes.” The approval slips out of your mouth with the rest of the smoke.

Ace moves his face so it's in front of yours, his eyes scanning your features as he takes a hit. You’re not even sure when he grabbed the joint but you don’t question it. not when his fingers cup your jaw so sweetly.

“What’re you—“ The question dies out as he shakes his head. Everything feels tingly but the way he’s cusping your face makes it ten times worse, setting your skin on fire as your face heats up.

Carefully, he tilts your head toward him before he leans in. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his fingers pulling on your jaw so your mouth opens a little more.

With a direct softness you’ve never gotten from him, he blows the smoke out from his mouth and into yours. The weed coats your taste buds before his tongue slips into your mouth to steal it all away. His eagerness rivals the hit in a silent contest of who can take your breath away more.

Ace's hand doesn’t move from your face and he uses it to his advantage to kiss you further. If you thought your mind was fuzzy before, it was absolute static now as your twirls swirl together.

He grins against your lips, humming approvingly as you begin to kiss him back. But it was over far too soon and it takes everything in you not to chase his fleeting lips.

“So?” He smirks and pulls away from you, taking another hit as you try to catch your breath.

“What the hell was that?” Your thigh was still pressing against his but you couldn’t find it in you to move. Part of you longed to push further, to lean into him and melt into his searing touch. But your mind was still trying to play catch up from what just happened.

“Shotgunning.” He blows the smoke out straight into the air and your heart pangs with a strange jealousy. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip. Maybe a little too much. You pause, tasting the words on your tongue before you utter them. “I wanna try it again.”

Ace sucks in his breath, the smoke plummeting to his lungs as he takes in your wish. Coughing slightly, he sits up straighter on the couch and tries to gather himself.

“Yeah?” The gravely rasp in his voice swirls with the underlying desire and draws you in further.

There’s no going back now.

“Yeah,” You nod slowly. Neither of you bat an eye as you slide into his lap, accidentally rolling your hips against his lap as you do. Ace lets out a choked groan of your name, shifting underneath you. “Ready?”

Galaxies bloom in his eyes as they light up, eagerly tilting his head up in anticipation. The joint sits on your lips before you take the hit, watching him under you as he looks up at you from beneath his dark lashes. Desire pools in your abdomen and before you can think about what you want, your lips meet once again.

It’s a blur between tongues as the smoke fizzles out. You’re not even sure if you did it right, but then again, it wasn’t really your main objective.

The joint disappears from your fingers and you can feel Ace shift to ash it out on the side table. Unburdened, his arms wrap around you and his hands splay across your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss.

Your lungs beg for reprieve but the taste of Ace’s sweet tongue is too addicting to let up. But he shows mercy and pulls away, suffering from the same affliction.

Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, your brain fully saturated in something syrupy sweet that had your hips involuntarily moving again as soon as your foreheads pressed together.

The faint aroma of sea salt still wove itself in the tangled curls of Ace’s hair, filling your senses despite all the smoke that currently clung to the thick air.

“Ace.” You gasp softly, the faint outline of his hardening cock coming to life right between your thighs.

“Yeah? You feel that?” To further his point, he pushes his hips up against your overheating core. “Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.” With every slow grind of your hips, you can feel him growing harder beneath you. The friction was rolling over your body like a wave hitting the shore, but it was fleeting. “I want more.”

“Can you handle more?” The smirk that dangles off his face has you wanting to roll your eyes but you relent. The craving for him was too much, threatening to boil over and fully consume you.

“I can.” You nod, lips hovering over his. “I want to try.”

Ace closes the distance, unable to curb his own carnal urges that run rampant in his body. The way your lips mesh together, tasting like weed and strawberry-flavored chapstick becomes something he knows he’ll get addicted to.

Your fingers dance along his chest, teasing under the vest before landing on the buckle of his belt. All the while he reaches up your skirt, tugging on your panties and dragging them down your legs.

The rest is a blur of motion, but the messy way his lips move with yours is vivid. It’s almost jarring how much you can taste him, how much his grunts of approval seep into your skin and run through your veins

You pull back at an absolute loss for breath, panting against his mouth as his tongue pokes out to trace your parted lips. The bottom half of your clothes are gone and his are haphazardly halfway down his thigh.

Ace's hand grips the base of his cock as you hover over it, pumping it and squeezing his tip as it leaks with pearly drops of precum.

“You're gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” His knuckles brush along your soaked slit, running along it back and forth, absolutely mesmerized as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, I'll be good.” The words are nothing more than a breath of air, your lungs squeezing in protest.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His tip prods your entrance, both of you throbbing as the last thread of self-control burns like a stick of dynamite. The slow, sparkling crawl of anticipation before everything explodes, lighting each other aflame in a whirlwind of desire. “You turn into such a little slut when you’re high, don’t you?”

“Ace.” You whine, watching the slow spread of his signature boyish grin take up his face. Warm palms rest on your hips, fingers gripping into your skin as he soaks up the absolute need in your voice.

“What?” He chuckles lowly, his voice still raspy from the smoke. “All I'm saying is that — ohh shit…“

The rest of his sentence melts into a groan as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock.

“That’s it.” He groaned, his palms sliding to rest on your thighs to help guide you. It takes everything in him not to push you all the way down, letting you take your time as you adjust during your descent.

Everything stands still as he finally bottoms out, filling you up and stretching you out in ways no one has ever done before. The pressure is insurmountable yet it brings you a wave of pleasure that has your body singing for more.

“Holy fuck, you feel like heaven.” Ace practically moans at the way your silky walls clamp around him. His fingers move once again to grip your hips in a bruising hold, stilling himself from spilling into you immediately.

“Of course, you talk a lot during sex.” You let out a scoffed chuckle, clutching onto his shoulders as you spread your legs a little more and letting him sink in even deeper.

“Aw, complaining already?” He gives you a lazy grin, slowly grinding his hips up against you. The steady throb of his cock melts your brain more than the weed did, the residual high becoming overshadowed by the man under you. “Or let me guess, you just can’t take a compliment?”

“Shut up.” You huff, rocking your hips before raising yourself back up. His cock partially slides out of you and glistens with your essence, coating it completely. Ace's eyes zero in on it, drinking in the sight before you ease back down.

“Fuck.” Ace's head hangs off the back of the couch as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. The hat he was wearing falls behind him, completely forgotten. His palms glide along your sides, sliding them up and down before cupping your ass and trying to speed up your movements. “Please, you gotta move faster.”

“Do I?” The gravity of the situation sets in, albeit a little delayed — blame it on the weed. But he was completely at your mercy. The pleading look in his eyes speaks volumes despite the cocky words he so rapidly fires off. You lean down, lips brushing against his ear. “Let me guess, can’t handle it?”

Ace's attention snaps back to you, almost fully alert now. The fog from earlier clears from his head as the words he uttered earlier echo from your pretty little mouth. A new challenge fires off inside of him and he was never one to back down from a fight, no matter the position. With a wicked grin, he thrusts his hips heavenward.

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He murmurs, rubbing the plushness of your ass before giving it a subtle smack. Your body jolts and your chests crash together, almost every part of you is touching him.

The ever-steady rhythm of your heart spins on its axis, thrown off by the rapid beating that sets in syncopation and you can’t find it in you to care. Not when everything you’ve ever wanted is finally clicking into place.

Your bodies move in a euphoric sync, the ebb and flow of the melody you two orchestrate fills the room in a symphony of bliss. You were drowning into Ace’s very essence and in return, he did the same.

“Shit, baby.” Ace groans at the almost lazy pace. Each delicious drag of his cock had your eyes rolling back to your head. Anytime he twitched inside of you was like another jolt of pleasure — knowing that he was getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you was driving you faster to your end. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“What?” You’re completely breathless now. The confession takes away the last shred of oxygen and rips it out of your lungs. The languid roll of your hips doesn't stop though; your mind, heart, and body all chasing what you want in different ways. “Really?”

“God, yeah.” Ace's fingers slid under your shirt as he grabbed your bra-covered chest. “We need to take this off.”

Impressively, his pace doesn’t falter as he rocks up into you while his hand glides to your back and unhooks your bra. It only takes a few seconds for your chest to become completely bare and his head to find its home in the valley of your breasts.

His tongue trails everywhere. Your body burns under it, relief only pooling in the spot between your thighs and wherever he decides to lick away the flames. It cools you off, the words he said earlier filtering back into your mind as the smoke clears.

“I've wanted this too.” You gasp, bouncing a little quicker to prove how much you’ve needed this — him. Ace groans, teeth grazing the swell of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth to muffle the noise. “You feel so good, Ace.”

The candy-sweet praise has his head popping back up from where his tongue was swirling around your pert bud and looks at you, eyes trailing over your blissed-out face and the hearts that swirled in your eyes.

“Come here.” Ace roughly grabs you by your ass, leaning further back into the couch as you tumble on him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, fucking up into you without abandon.

“A-Ace!” You gasp, trying to squirm away a little but the hold he had you in was too tight.

“Take it for me, baby. You said you would.” He moans. Both of your impending highs are heightened by the weed you inhaled only minutes ago. Pleasure rips through your body, sending it into tremors as your thighs shake. “Let go f’me.”

Your high washes over you immediately, body locking up as Ace continues to pound into you and chase his own release.

And it’s beautiful when he reaches it.

He comes with a choked moan of your name, his body tensing up and his fingers digging into your skin. His cock pulses before he completely empties himself into your greedy cunt with sporadic, shallow thrusts.

Both of you slump against each other, melting into the couch as your mind floats down from the clouds and into his warm embrace.

You pull back a little to admire his freckled face and can’t help but unleash the giggle that bubbles from your chest. It was contagious, as joy often is when you’re around him, and he can’t help but mirror you.

The two of you giggling in each other's arms under the shoddy string lights in the basement that has grown to mean so much to you — even more so now.

The distinct squeak of the floorboard by the basement door sounds off, snapping you both back into reality.

“I thought we were the only ones here.” You sit up, hastily reaching for your clothes and throwing them on. Ace lifts his hips and slides his back on before kissing you on the top of your head and getting up. “Ace–“

“Stay here.” He turns around the corner and out of sight as he starts to go up the stairs. After a few steps in, the door opens and you straighten up. “Oh, it’s you. You little fucking perv.”

The sound of Ace’s boisterous laughter sounds off as two pairs of legs start coming back down. Every nerve is set on fire, anxiety ripping into your chest at the thought of seeing the person who had been listening in on you and Ace fucking.

But the familiar sight of blonde hair snuffs all the worries away, the dastardly pair smiling at you with devious intent.

“I had to pick up so I couldn’t make it to the bar tonight,” Sabo said with a grin, holding up the bag of weed he must’ve scored. “Must be my lucky day.”

“Must be.” Ace scoffs, making his way back to you. He plops back down into his spot next to you, immediately mouthing at your neck before his voice curls around your ear. You don ’t break eye contact with Sabo as he stalks closer, placing the bag on the table before taking off his gloves. “What do you say, baby? Wanna let him smoke us up and show him exactly what happened down here?”

tags: @bontensh0e @autumnstuffs

#☆ 𓂃 Kinktober !#dividers by cafekitsune #◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#cw dubcon #cw weed #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace smut #portgas ace smut #one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece smut #op smut

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creamflix · 22 days ago

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various jujutsu kaisen men x reader; suggestive content. no reader gender specified, except in sukuna's part (use of "woman"). use of different smoking techniques and devices, vapes, weed, hookah, cigars, cigarettes, bongs. making out. established relationship. includes gojo satoru, geto suguru, ryomen sukuna, nanami kento, shiu kong, toji fushiguro, ino takuma. — masterlist here ☆

you never thought you'd see GOJO with a vape. he always seemed above that kind of thing, the type to make fun of anyone who’d whip one out in public. yet here he was, casually lounging on the couch, blowing out a cloud of sweet-scented smoke with the ease of someone who’d been doing it for a while.

you raise an eyebrow, staring at him, trying to process the image in front of you. “vaping? seriously?”

gojo looks over at you with that signature smirk of his, the one that always manages to get under your skin. “what?” he says, taking another hit, lips closing around the tip before he exhales slowly, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “it’s just a hobby.”

“yeah, a weird one,” you mutter, eyeing the slim device in his hand. “kinda thought you'd be above it.”

“what can i say, i’m full of surprises.” he leans in closer, his icy blue eyes flickering with amusement. “wanna try?”

you hesitate. vaping always struck you as... juvenile, but the fruity smell of whatever flavor he was using lingers between you, filling the air with a sweet, almost tempting aroma. strawberry, raspberry, maybe even a hint of cherry. your curiosity gets the better of you, and you give him a slight nod. "fine, just a taste."

gojo’s smirk deepens as he takes another long drag, his eyes never leaving yours. you expect him to hand you the vape, but instead, he leans forward, grabbing your chin between his fingers. before you can process what’s happening, he tilts your head up, bringing his lips close, and blows the warm, sweet vapor directly into your mouth.

your eyes widen, shock freezing you in place as the sensation hits — warm, soft, and strangely intimate. the flavor floods your senses, sweet and slightly tangy, making your tongue tingle as you instinctively breathe in. there’s a brief pause where your mind blanks, the closeness of gojo’s face, the taste of the vapor, the feel of his breath mixing with yours, and then it hits you.

you’re hooked.

he pulls back, watching you with a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers still lightly gripping your chin. “how’s that?”

you swallow, still tasting the fruity sweetness in your mouth, a little lightheaded from the unexpected intensity of it all. "that... that was —"

“good?” he interrupts, chuckling as he leans back again, clearly amused by your reaction. “told ya, you’d like it.”

“you could’ve just handed me the damn thing,” you huff, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“where’s the fun in that?” he shoots back, his smile widening as he takes another drag. “besides, this way’s more... personal.”

you roll your eyes, but your heart is still racing. there’s something addicting about the way he did it, the closeness, the way his fingers felt on your skin, the taste of him lingering in the vapor he shared with you. you know it's not the vape you're craving —it’s him.

you never expected NANAMI to be the type to use nicotine pouches, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. his job was stressful, and he had that quiet, restrained intensity about him — like he needed something to keep himself in check. still, finding out about it during a heated makeout session wasn’t how you imagined the discovery would go.

you were pressed up against him, hands fisted in his shirt as your tongues tangled together, his lips warm and firm against yours. everything was electric, your body humming with the connection, when you felt something odd in his mouth —something that definitely wasn’t his tongue. you froze, pulling back abruptly, eyes wide as you tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

nanami, ever calm and collected, looked a little flustered as he caught your confused expression. he didn’t say a word, just parted his lips and pulled his gum back slightly, revealing the small, white pouch tucked between his lip and gums. his face was flushed, a faint pink creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, and the sight of him like that — lips parted, a little breathless, and his mouth slightly open — had your heart skipping a beat.

“nicotine pouch,” he explained simply, his voice a low rumble, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. but there was something about the way he had his mouth open like that, the pouch still in place, his expression serious yet slightly embarrassed, that sent a wave of heat rushing through you. he looked... hot. unexpectedly so.

“oh...” was all you managed to say, your heart still pounding. there was a beat of silence, the tension between you both thick and heady, and then without thinking, you surged forward, kissing him again, harder this time.

his lips met yours eagerly, and as your tongues clashed again, you could taste it — the faint bitterness of the nicotine pouch, the strange, numbing sensation spreading across your mouth. it was disorienting at first, the bitter tang making your head spin, but it only seemed to heighten everything. each kiss felt more intense, more urgent, and the slight numbness in your mouth had your nerves firing in overdrive, making every touch of his tongue and lips feel electrifying.

nanami groaned softly against your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his usually calm demeanor fraying at the edges. the nicotine pouch made his kiss feel different, rougher, and you found yourself addicted to the sensation, the bitter taste mixing with the warmth of his mouth, making your head swim. it was intoxicating, the strange mix of flavors and sensations, the way his lips moved against yours with more fervor than before.

you couldn’t get enough.

you had long grown accustomed to SHIU’s habit of smoking, but that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy you. the smell clung to everything — his clothes, the cushions, even the air felt thick with it sometimes. and the ash? you’d complain about it constantly, even though, in truth, he was pretty mindful about where he flicked it. but still, you’d nag him about it whenever you caught a stray bit of ash on the sofa or the faint smell of tobacco in the living room.

"you’re stinking up the whole damn place," you grumbled one day, narrowing your eyes at him as he took a slow drag, blowing the smoke out lazily as if you hadn’t just been ranting at him.

shiu, ever calm, just rolled his eyes, not even bothering with a response. instead, he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you into him with more force than necessary. before you could utter another complaint, his lips crashed against yours, silencing any protest.

the taste of the cigarette clung to his breath, bitter and smoky, and it hit you immediately, flooding your senses. his kiss was rough, no room for softness or hesitation, and the faint burn of tobacco on his lips made it all the more intense. his hand gripped the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair as he pressed you against his broad chest, trapping you in the scent of him, the smoke, the heat.

you felt like you were drowning in it — his scent, the taste of the cigarette, the force of his body against yours. your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, finding purchase against the solid muscle of his torso. his lips moved against yours with fierce determination, almost as if he was trying to overwhelm you with the very thing you had been complaining about.

and it was working.

his other hand slid down your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you, and you found yourself melting into the kiss despite the lingering bitterness of the cigarette smoke. the more you tried to resist, the more intense he became, his hold on you almost possessive.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, a smug, knowing smirk tugging at his lips as you stood there breathless, still caught in the haze of it all. "still complaining?" he asked, voice low and teasing, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers.

you didn’t have an answer, your heart racing too fast for words. the taste of him lingered, the smoky scent still wrapped around you like a second skin.

"it's the last vape, i promise!" CHOSO whined, eyes wide as you scolded him for the umpteenth time that week. but you weren’t buying it. he’d said the same thing last time, and the time before that. now, he was constantly smelling and tasting like a mix of artificial flavors — cotton candy one day, mango peach the next, and sometimes even mint chocolate chip. it was hard to keep up.

"you smell like a candy shop," you muttered, shaking your head, though there was a slight smile tugging at your lips. "and taste like one too."

choso, looking both guilty and a little pleased with himself, fiddled with the vape in his hand, giving you a hopeful glance. "but look, i learned something cool," he said, a spark of excitement in his voice that was hard to ignore.

you sighed, but when he lifted the vape to his lips, taking a deep puff and blowing out a thick cloud of smoke, you couldn’t help but watch. he exhaled in slow, calculated bursts, forming rings and shapes in the air, the vapor swirling and dancing in the soft light. he showed off, blowing the rings one by one, and even adding a little flourish, making them loop together in a mesmerizing pattern.

you tried to stay annoyed, but it was hard when he was so damn proud of himself, his concentration so serious as he perfected each trick. "see?" he said, glancing over at you with a hint of a smile, clearly pleased with himself.

you giggled despite yourself, watching the way his eyes lit up every time he blew a new shape. it was... addicting to watch, the way the smoke moved, the way his lips curled around the vape so effortlessly. and somehow, the more you watched him, the harder it was to focus on being mad. he made it look so cool, his dark eyes focused, his body relaxed but in control, and it was hard not to be drawn in by his excitement.

“okay, okay, show me how to do that,” you finally said, giving in, though you weren’t sure whether it was curiosity or something else entirely that had you asking.

he smirked, clearly enjoying your change of heart. “here, lemme show you,” he said, stepping closer as he took another drag. this time, instead of showing off, he cupped your chin in his hand, pulling you closer as he leaned in. his thumb brushed over your lower lip, his grip firm but gentle as he held you in place.

“just take a deep breath,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, as he slowly blew the vapor into your mouth, guiding you through the motions. the taste of the vape, some sort of tropical blend, flooded your senses, sweet and almost overwhelming. but it wasn’t just the vape — it was the way he was holding you, the way his eyes stayed locked on yours, the rough press of his fingers on your skin.

you could feel your heart racing, and as the smoky sweetness coated your tongue, the intensity of his presence left you dizzy. you watched as he pulled back, his lips curling into a small, satisfied smile, and you swore you had never been more turned on.

his grip tightened on your chin, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "now blow it out slowly," he whispered, his voice almost teasing, his gaze heavy as he watched your lips part.

it wasn’t the vape that was getting to you — it was him. and the heat pooling low in your stomach told you he knew it too.

“don’t be ridiculous, woman. kings smoke hookah all the time,” SUKUNA scoffs, leaning back in his seat, the hookah pipe resting casually between his lips. his body sprawled in all its intimidating, masculine glory, he looks utterly unbothered by your complaints.

you cross your arms, glaring up at him. “doesn’t mean you need to clutter your whole chamber with that thing,” you huff, gesturing toward the ornate hookah. “it takes up way too much space. i just want to lie next to you without knocking into it every time.”

he exhales a thick cloud of smoke, the rich scent of double apple filling the air around you, making it impossible to escape. his gaze shifts to you, eyes narrowing slightly as if your complaints are nothing but background noise. “always whining,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “you sound like a child.”

before you can protest, one of his four arms snakes around your waist, pulling you onto his lap in one smooth, effortless motion. you gasp, your body tensing as he cages you in with his other two arms, his grip firm, possessive. “maybe if you weren’t so annoying, you’d get what you wanted,” he murmurs, the hookah pipe still dangling from his lips as he takes another long drag.

the sweet, intoxicating smell of double apple lingers thick in the air, clinging to his skin, his breath. you squirm slightly in his lap, trying to make yourself comfortable, but his grip tightens, leaving no room for movement. “sukuna, come on,” you start, your voice slightly breathless. “that thing smells so strong... and you smell like it too.”

he chuckles darkly, ignoring your complaint. instead, he takes another deep inhale from the hookah, his eyes watching you with a dangerous glint. without warning, he leans in, capturing your lips in a heated, overwhelming kiss. the taste of the hookah smoke floods your mouth immediately — thick, sweet, and strong.

you gasp into the kiss, the sharpness of the double apple flavor coating your tongue. it’s so intense, it’s like you’re tasting the smoke itself, your senses overrun by the sweetness and the warmth that lingers in his breath. your head spins slightly from the sensation, the smoky flavor mixing with the heat of his kiss, and it makes you dizzy.

he pulls back only slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, “pathetic.” his tongue flicks out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe across your lips, making you shiver. “getting all worked up over just a kiss.”

you groan, trying to regain control, but the lingering taste of the double apple still clings to your tongue, overwhelming your senses. “it’s not just the kiss, sukuna,” you manage to say, breathless. “you’re practically drowning me in this stuff.”

he laughs, low and mocking. “then maybe you should learn to enjoy it,” he says, his voice dark, teasing. his grip on you tightens, pulling you even closer as he takes another drag from the hookah, exhaling the smoke slowly, deliberately, right in your face. the sweet, thick scent curls around you, and your body reacts involuntarily, your heart racing as you breathe in the intoxicating smell.

“sukuna…” you whisper, your voice faltering as the warmth of the smoke and the heat of his body press in on you from all sides.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, voice laced with amusement. “can’t handle a little smoke?” his lips curl into a smirk as he leans in again, this time pressing a rough, possessive kiss against your lips, tasting the sweetness of the hookah all over again.

you knew when TOJI bought himself a cigar, it meant one of two things: either he was in an unusually good mood, or there was some extra cash to burn. and you weren’t about to deny him his little vice, even if you didn’t love the smell of it. it wasn’t like he smoked cigars every day, after all.

he lounged on the couch, the thick, earthy smell of the cigar curling in the air around him. “gimme a kiss,” he mumbled through the cigar, his voice low and lazy, the words barely audible over the haze of smoke.

you frowned, glancing at the cigar still hanging between his lips. “toji, can’t you at least finish that first?” you complained, waving your hand in front of your face to clear some of the smoke.

he rolled his eyes, taking the cigar out of his mouth for a moment. “stop fussin’. c’mon, get over here.”

before you could argue, his hand was on you, fingers gripping your waist and pulling you in close. you barely had time to protest before his lips crashed against yours. the taste was immediate and overpowering — strong, bitter, earthy. the flavor clung to his mouth, rich and smoky, and it filled yours as his tongue invaded your mouth without hesitation.

“toji —” you tried to pull back, but he only deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing further, rough lips moving against yours with a messy urgency. his breath was thick with smoke, and the cigar’s pungent scent was almost suffocating. it clung to him, to his clothes, to every inch of space around you.

“tastes good, doesn’t it?” he murmured against your lips, his smirk evident even through the kiss. his lips moved to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. each kiss was sloppy, wet, the taste of smoke and bitter tobacco lingering on your skin as he dragged his tongue along your throat. “didn’t hear ya complainin’ now.”

you squirmed slightly in his grip, your head spinning from the intensity of the taste and the sensation of his lips on your skin. “toji, it’s — ugh, it’s too strong,” you protested, pushing at his chest lightly. but he didn’t budge. instead, his arm tightened around your waist, keeping you firmly in place on his lap.

“you’ll get used to it,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the cigar before blowing the smoke out slowly, deliberately, right in front of your face. “now stop whining, yeah? just kiss me.”

you groaned softly, torn between wanting to pull away and giving in to the dizzying combination of his rough kisses and the strong, smoky aftertaste that lingered in your mouth. the smoke was so thick it felt like it was inside you, clinging to your tongue and lips even as he kissed you again, sloppily, his lips moving against yours in an almost overwhelming rhythm.

“see? not so bad, huh?” he teased, pulling back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “still think i should finish the cigar first?”

you shook your head, dazed from the taste and the way his lips had practically devoured you. “you’re impossible,” you muttered, but the way his hands roamed your body, keeping you pinned against him, had you too flustered to argue further.

he chuckled lowly, leaning in to press another open-mouthed kiss to your neck, the smoky scent now permanently etched into your senses. “nah, you love it,” he murmured, his voice smug as ever, his lips trailing back up to claim yours once more.

GETO’s idea of a perfect date night wasn’t fancy dinners or movie nights. no, for him, it was simpler — just a bottle, a bowl, and some weed. the process itself was almost meditative for him, and it filled him with pride when he saw the way your eyes lit up with curiosity as he sat cross-legged, calmly constructing the bong. his hands moved with practiced ease, carefully assembling each piece — filling the bottle with just enough water, making sure the bowl was secure, and showing you how to pack the weed tightly. “you plug it here,” he explained, guiding your hands with his, “and then inhale slowly.” his voice was always so steady, but tonight, there was a hint of anticipation as he showed you the ropes.

it didn’t take long before the two of you felt the effects creeping in, your bodies growing heavier as you both lay back on the soft mat spread out in your bedroom floor. the earthy, herbal smell of the weed lingered in the air, a little pungent, but somehow comforting in the dim light of the room. the soft glow of the led lights cast a calming atmosphere, making the entire scene feel surreal as you both stared up at the ceiling, giggling at nothing in particular.

“you’re really pretty,” geto mumbled, his voice slower, softer than usual. his words dragged a little, the high hitting him just enough to make his movements feel sluggish. he lifted his body up slowly, moving to cage you beneath him, his long hair falling over his shoulders as his dark eyes met yours, glazed with a soft haze.

you giggled in return, your body relaxed and pliant beneath him, making no effort to push him off. the way he looked at you with that sleepy, soft expression made your heart skip a beat. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you teased lightly, reaching up to brush some of his hair back from his face.

he didn’t respond with words. instead, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, but not quite kissing you yet. his tongue was the first to make contact, a slow, lazy swipe against yours, and for a moment, you were just staring at each other with half-lidded eyes, the two of you sharing that quiet, intimate moment. his mouth felt slightly more hydrated from the water-filtered smoke of the bong, but the familiar smoky taste still clung to his breath, mixing with the sweetness of the weed.

finally, his lips crashed into yours, the kiss slow and sensual, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he groaned softly against you. the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. the pressure made him grunt, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you with more intent, his movements lazy but filled with desire.

the taste of smoke lingered on his breath as he kissed you deeply, the earthy flavor filling your mouth and making your head spin just a little more. his body was heavy, but you didn’t mind — it felt like you were sinking into him, the two of you melting into the haze of the moment, surrounded by the smell of weed and the warmth of his skin.

“you’re everything,” he murmured against your lips, his words slightly slurred as his hand traced slow, lazy circles along your side, pulling you impossibly closer.

“your mouth’s kinda dry, taku,” you tease, straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair. you knew exactly why — cottonmouth from smoking weed. he’d lit up before coming over to your place, and now his lips and mouth felt dry, making each kiss feel rougher than usual.

TAKUMA smirks, his eyes heavy-lidded and lazy, his entire body relaxed against the couch. “spit in it then,” he says with a grin, voice low and teasing.

“you serious?” you ask, raising a brow, slightly taken aback by the request. but there’s something about the way he says it, his tone dripping with lazy confidence, that makes you consider it.

“dead serious,” he mutters, punctuating his words with a firm squeeze to your ass, his hand gripping you hard enough to make you squeal. his smirk only widens, his gaze burning into yours, daring you to do it.

you bite your lip, trying to hold back a giggle, but the way he’s looking at you, all hazy and laid back, makes you want to give in. “fine,” you mutter playfully, gripping his chin between your fingers as his mouth falls open obediently, his tongue outstretched. you let a thick glob of spit fall onto his tongue, watching it pool there before he swallows, his lips curling into a satisfied grin.

before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you back into another kiss. this time, it’s slower but wetter, the spit helping ease the dryness from the weed. his lips still carry that earthy, herbal flavor, mixed with the tobacco wrap of the blunt he’d smoked earlier. the taste is strong — pungent and skunky from the weed, mixed with the sweet, smoky flavor of the cigarillo wrap. it clings to his breath, lingering on your tongue as you kiss him deeply.

the smell of the weed is overwhelming, clinging to his clothes and his hair, a strong, almost musky scent that fills the air around you both. it’s thick in the air, almost as if you can taste it just from breathing. you can feel how relaxed and mellow he is from the weed, his movements slow and lazy as his hands roam over your body, gripping you firmly but without any rush. it’s clear he’s in no hurry to end this moment.

you break the kiss for just a second to catch your breath, but takuma’s lips follow yours instantly, whining softly in protest as you pull away. “no, don’t stop,” he mumbles against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulls you closer, keeping you locked in place on his lap. “feels too good.”

you smile against his lips, the taste of smoke still lingering between you both. “you’re such a brat,” you tease, but you don’t stop kissing him. his breath is still warm, still heavy with the pungent mix of weed and tobacco, and his lips are just a little softer now, but the kiss is no less intense.

thank you all for 5OO followers, here is a little treat. i had this idea lying around for a while and finally got to work to it on seeing @/sugoroo's loserboy, plug sukuna fic `(*>﹏<*)′ make sure to check out her work too!

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kessellluvr · 16 days ago

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|| ARCTOBER ᵈᵃʸ ²⁹ - ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ||ｓｅｖｉｋａ

Summary: Long nights in the club.. reader is a bartender, unspoken promises wafting through the air like magic everytime Sevika’s gaze met yours. You couldn’t quite tell what to make of that smirk she gave you every time you walked past, bent down to place her drink down infront of her - the way her eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than they should.. welp, that night you were feeling risky, testing limits and pushing boundaries.

Warnings: NSFW/ MDNI ; r!recieving, mention of smoking, name- calling, fingering, edging, semi-rough handling, bruising/hickeys, hook-up

AN: This isnt proofread and i was in a rush to finish it so i apologise for any typos x

Purple neon lights lit up the club, the bass of the underground techno music blasting through the large crowd. The magenta-grey smoke of cigars and hookah’s filling up the clubber’s senses. It was full house tonight, people going in and out - swarming the dancefloor like a bunch of bees. The bar was stacked with lines of people, some sitting, others having sloppy-drunken makeouts and most just wanting to get more booze. Great, the bartenders nightmare.

A big guy, middle aged lady and a precious little thing serving drinks - that‘d be you. Right, innocent and easy-prey looking, but oh boy you got a mouth on you. Apron tied tight around your waist, shaping your figure perfectly, hair tied back in a mid-high ponytail, waterline painted black and lashes adorned by mascara. A whistle rung over the music, making you quickly spin your head to find Sevika shoving away some other people at the bar. "Whiskey, neat and hurry the fuck up, im in no mood." Sevika´s deep voice grumbled, giving you an expectant look. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head but you quickly prepared her drink - top shelf whiskey in her signature glass, yes, she had her own glass. You slid it across the counter "Wait in line next time, you aint the only one in here."

"Whatever." As she grabbed her glass and went back to the gambling table. And so, the night went on, people getting more drunk and reckless, the music blasting louder - every possible chance you got, you stole a glance at Sevika - the way she confidently carries herself, winning game after game with that fucking smug smirk on her dark, scarred lips, god you had to admit: she was sexy, despite being an asshole. Everytime your eyes met you felt a strange heat coursing through your every cell.. your breath hitching a little anytime the corners of her dark lips twitched up.

Silco and the other chem-barons had taken their seats at their table a few minutes ago and you were supposed to bring their drinks over, cause of course they get special treatment. You despised them, they stink with money and order their workers around like animals..ugh.

Nonetheless, you went ahead and poured their order, carefully placing the glasses on a tray and moving through the crowd swiftly - well, atleast until some drunken asshole overlooked you and stumbled right into you. Drinks spilling all over you white apron - soaking into the fabric and revealing a tantalising glimpse of your bra underneath. Your eye twitched in annoyance, temper flaring as you spat some curses at the drunkard. "Get this dickhead out of my face!" you snapped, looking expectantly towards the bouncers. Of course, your wish was their command and the drunk was dragged out immediately, spluttering out an apology.

Your co-worker quickly re-made the drinks while you were busy kneeling on the floor and wiping the mess. "Well well, looks like you had a little mishap there, hmm?" that smug voice echoed above you. You scoffed, straightening up and looking up at her, defiance gleaming in your crystal eyes. "I dont need your fucking bullshit, Sevika. Think your something better, huh?" you spat - making Vika´s brow arch up, eyes taking on that dangerous purple gleam. Her thick, long fingers came to grasp your chin tightly "I think someone needs to fuck that damn attitude outta ya." You couldnt deny the delicious sensation in your lower abdomen at her words, your lips parted as if to say something but nothing came out.

"Thought so." Vika says with another smirk, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder unexpectedly, you yelped. "Let me go!" but you didnt really mean that, you loved the way she had her hands around your waist and you both knew that. She carried you up the stairs not even bothering to tell you where she was heading - soon enough you found yourself being thrown on the couch in her office. Your eyes widened, breath quickening as you tried to keep your composure. “What the fuck?”

“What’dya think? I’ll help you out of that damn soaked shirt and make good of my promise.. unless you dont want me to.” There it was again, that self-confident smirk, your teeth came down on your lip - teeth digging into the soft flesh as you nodded slowly, thinking of a snarky reply. “Of course, you totally wanna help me change and not just get your hands on me.”

“Shut it.” Vika growled, grasping your hair surprisingly gentle and smashing her lips down on yours, slow at first, tounge probing at your lips before you opened them for her - tangling your tounges together in a twist as her large hand slid down your body, mapping out the curves and grasping every bit of flesh she could find. Squeezing, caressing..

A soft moan slipped from your lips, muffled by her mouth as she eagerly tugged your shirt over your head - pulling away to throw the shirt carelessly on the floor. Her hands came to swiftly undo your bra - letting it join your shirt on the floor. "Fuck, such gorgeous tits." Vika growled before latching onto one of your nipples, suckling and making them form into hard peaks. Whimpers mignled with the wet sounds of her sloppy sucking, her hand sliding down your pants and lightly rubbing over that wet spot in your panties - stealing another beautiful whimper from your lips.

"Sevika.. please.." as your hips bucked forward, making her press her fingers harder against you fabric-covered clit. She pulled her mouth from your tits and pushed you back against the desk, hand finally going beneath your panties and sliding over your slit to collect your wetness before rubbing it over your fattened clit. Your moans quickly filled her ears, a beautiful melody for her - her teeth grazing your neck before leaving sloppy kisses in the wake of her lips.

Your hips kept bucking, feeling youreself getting closer cause of her tight circles - suddenly, Sevika stopped, moving her fingers down and easily sliding them into your wetness, curling them upwards to hit that delicious spot deep within you. Your head fell back, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as she sucked hickeys while keeping her fingers in a steady motion.

"V-vika.. ´m close.." Was when she pulled out, smirking down at you. "I think you dont quite deserve cumming, fucking brat. Get back to word." as she spanked your ass playfully, you sulked and gave her puppy eyes. "Come back up here when youre done closing."

That made your eyes light up again, you nodded, getting dressed into the fresh shirt and leaving your ruined on right there on her office floor.. great, having to finish your shift with soaked panties was not how you wanted that night to go, but Sevika knew she was gonna give you a proper reward later.

kessellluvr 10/29/2024

#sevika arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #arctober #arcaneedit #arcane #wlw #lesbian #i love buff women #vi arcane #jinx arcane

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jeon-ify · 8 months ago

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daddy - mingi

makeout session with your man

“you taste so good, daddy. i love you,” your plump and glossy lips kiss on your boyfriends warm, soft neck, making him grind up into you. his pouty and bratz-style lips make their way to part, gasping and groaning as you suck on the spot right under his right ear.

“mm, baby. let me fuck you, y/n.”

the dark scenery of the bedroom makes the both of you relaxed, mingi lightheaded and out of his mind already. he inhales a puff of the hookah, bringing your face to his as you part your lips, shotgunning the smoke into your strawberry scented breath.

“fuckkkk, you’re so fine,” his dimple comes out to peek at you and you lean down to deliver hickeys all over his neck, yet again. this time, you’ve already planted 2 on either side of his neck, finishing the number and making a third right in the middle of his neck.

“all for you, baby. i love my man so much,” your teeth come out to a cheeky smile, as mingi darts his tongue out to yours in a deep and slow makeout session.

you pull away from him with his bottom lip between your lips, releasing with a pop. he moans deeply, making you clench around nothing.

“wanna show my bitch off to everybody. post you on my story for all my fans to see how desperate you are for me, yeah?”

you feel the vibrations from his voice through his neck as you finish making the last mark on his neck. you blow over the spot, making mingi barely jolt in how the cool air makes him feel. he moans, throwing his head back, giving you easier access to lick and kiss the new bruise you formed.

“you love me, daddy?”

“yeah, baby. but i wanna fuck you like i don’t.”

i wanna bounce on his dick so bad

#mingi ateez #mingi fluff #ateez mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #kpop #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut

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comatosebunny09 · 10 months ago

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oral fixation | astarion a.

summary: he loves your lips. especially when they’re so eagerly wrapped around him. genre(s): erotica, romance warning(s): female anatomy described, oral fixation, face-fucking, bj, jealousy, possessiveness, bodily fluids, choking, cum-eating, brief dacryphilia, explicit language, alcohol and tobacco use (hookah), blood drinking now playing: criminal - taemin notes: please thank @nanaoise08squad for helping me write this! also, please let me know if i missed any warnings! hope you enjoy, lovelies! screenshot credit

Lips.

Your lips.

They’re his favorite—if anyone ever bothered to ask what he enjoys most about your body.

Well, other than the devastating clench of your pussy, of course.

They’re pillow-soft. Thick. Flushed like rose petals. Cute when they’re pulled into that warm smile.

Alluring, stretched into a thin line as you glare at your enemies.

Exquisite, stained with blood and bruises and split—he can’t help wanting to lick them whenever he sets his eyes on them, even in the heat of battle.

Perfect and sweltering, curled around him. Dribbling with globs of spit and pre-spend as you take him down your throat. His favorite of all. And those pretty, garbled sounds you release when he presses deeper, testing your gag reflexes, amplifies his love for them.

Your sinfully gorgeous lips.

Gods.

Astarion bites his lip, threatening to draw blood.

He observes you through the wispy haze of tobacco smoke staining the lounge, trained on every twitch and spasm of your mouth beneath the dulled lighting. Every smile, every scowl. Every dart of your tongue from betwixt them, chasing wine that glides down the corners.

Your tongue leaves a sheen of saliva in its wake. Astarion swallows thickly. Unconsciously flashes back to how you make his cock gleam like that. Glistening and flushed an angry red when you release him with a lewd pop after swallowing him down like a fucking pro.

Astarion shudders, his eyes rolling into the backs of their sockets. His fingernails pull at the plush, crimson cushions beneath him, a groan trying to make itself known.

You’ll be the death of him; he’s sure of it.

Astarion sulks, swirling the contents of his goblet, brows weighed down in the middle by something like irritation.

You’re doing this on purpose. Enticing him. Vexing him. Your eyes occasionally find him across the lounge. Twinkle with mischief below bowed lashes before flitting back to your company. Company he wishes would piss off.

He can think of better ways to occupy your mouth that don’t involve meaningless conversation.

However, everyone’s gathered around you to celebrate the famed Hero of Baldur’s Gate. Despite Astarion’s protests, you insisted on staying.

You are a beacon of hope. An idol perched on a plinth, the Madonna della Pietà. Who would he be to steal you away from your adoring fans?

He just wishes his trousers weren’t so unbearably tight. Wishes he wasn’t straining against the seam of them, throbbing and pulsing with beads of pre-cum staining the thick material. Plagued by memories of the beautiful sounds he evokes from your mouth instead of your airy laughter filling his head once again.

Astarion crosses his legs with a petulant sigh and shoves a pillow onto his lap to mask his growing need. Quietly simmers, downing what remains in his cup. He swipes the back of his hand across his chin to clean up errant dribbles of wine, uncaring of how unsightly he must appear.

He’s in no mood for pleasantries. No mood to entertain others, waving off the belly dancers who try vainly to charm him with the wind of their hips. He’s too busy boring holes into the arm draped about your shoulders—one of your fans getting a little too cozy.

If looks could kill, he would’ve murdered this imbecile a thousand times over.

His vision glosses red when the man’s thumb swipes at the corner of your lips under the pretense of cleaning off some wine.

“There you go, lass,” he murmurs, the rough pad of his thumb grazing your chin. “Good as new. And still just as pretty.”

There’s no mistaking the gleam in his eye. The lecherous cant of his lips. A look Astarion knows all too well, having pinned you with it so many times himself.

You chuckle something tense, finding Astarion’s gaze through the discord.

Astarion moves on instinct. Soundless as a panther, pushing through the harem of dancers that had gathered around him. Parts through the revelers assembled at your feet, and they look up at him with varying degrees of alarm.

With an abrasive sound pinched from his lungs, Astarion plucks you from the settee with a possessive hand encircling your wrist. Murmurs a curt excuse us, daring the man who touched you to protest with a predatory glare over his shoulder.

The hairs of your neck stand ramrod stiff. A pleasant, cooling sensation pools in your belly. Trickles southward into your underwear, and you throb.

You do so love it when he gets like this. Green-eyed and seething.

You bid the other patrons farewell, unable to disguise the sinister arc of your lips. Toddle behind your beloved, your body still buzzing from the wine, your head still spinning from the nicotine. Astarion finally tugs you beneath layers of sheer, burgundy curtains, far from the grasp of the lounge’s other clients.

“Astarion,” you gasp as the world twists around you, and he pulls your stumbling, giggling self before him.

You’ve hardly any time to admire your surroundings, the swell of sound from the longue muddled and blotted out by the clipped growl rumbling in Astarion’s chest.

You only have the gleam of his irises and the flash of his teeth as warnings before you tumble backward onto a mass of pillows, shoved into them by your beloved. You clamber to your elbows, breaths labored, pupils dilated. Again, you’re pushed into the satiny cushions as Astarion crawls overtop, fingers winding around your jaw and neck to hold you in place for him to ravage you.

He slots himself between your legs, and it’s like he’s always been there. Feasts on your mouth, pushing past the barrier of your teeth in pursuit of your tongue, thumb pressing against your larynx. He pours the most relieved sound between your lips when he finds it. Entices it into an ardent dance, and Gods, you’re so warm and wet here. He can’t help how he bears down, hips rolling like waves licking the shoreline as he presses against the stitching of your breeches.

You moan in tandem, and the air punches from your lungs, the heels of your feet digging into his back as you twine your legs around his waist.

His other hand pulls and bunches up your clothing in search of the supple glide of your skin. Groans something satisfied when the hardened pads of his fingertips find the xylophone of your rib cage, easing upward. He grazes the underside of your breast, and he kneads and rolls your nipple with slow, meticulous circles, luring the prettiest little whine from your throat.

“Astarion,” you recite, clawing at the bindings of his breeches. It’s the sweetest supplication to his ears to hear you begging so wantonly for him. To see he isn’t the only one who missed the hot press of your body to his.

He abandons your mouth to blister your neck with kisses, fangs nipping at your clavicle, thumbs cruising down the dip of your stomach in search of your hips whilst you arch your back. He sighs around your nipple when your soft hands close around the head of his cock, tugging and squeezing, your thumbs generous as they spread pre-spend around him. Instinctively, Astarion ruts into the scorching clasp of your hands, breathing hot against your flesh, rolling your other nipple between lithe fingers.

It’s almost embarrassing how desperately he yearns for you. How he leaks and whimpers while you fist him, and his canines sink into the doughy flesh of your tit, pulling a yelp from your mouth. He licks over the wounds in apology, hips pinning your waist to the floor. He’s dizzied and overwhelmed, and the wind of your waist isn’t helping matters.

The succulent tang of your blood provokes his tastebuds, and his hips paint a rhythm of their own volition as he pistons against you. He glances up whilst your head crashes into the pillows, your lips glistening and parting with a breath, and your lids shuttered against the wave of ecstasy sifting through your spine.

“Astarion,” you breathe, pulling so nicely on his cock. Swallow. “Astarion, please. My mouth. Need, I—you…want you in my mouth.”

How sweet you sound, begging for your mouth to be stretched wide and violated. The jumble of your words is endearing. Usually, Astarion would tease you for your impatience. But he hasn’t the tolerance to, having gone without your lips sucking him in for days.

Astarion pants, scrambling to his knees, straddling your shoulders, and tugging his breeches down, down, down until his impressive girth springs free of its confines. It slaps intimidatingly against his abdominals, a pretty, gossamer string of pre dribbling from the slit towards your chin, and his cock twitches at your eagerness.

There’s reverence in your stare. Hunger as your mouth opens and closes, and your perfect body squirms beneath him, anticipation lancing through you. You squeeze your thighs together to ward off the delicious, sparkling rush of endorphins collecting between them.

You watch as Astarion handles himself, his hand swallowing up the bulk of his cock whilst he pumps himself, head thrown back, the tendons of his neck flexing.

He groans something feral and desperate, his cock grinding against the hot, sticky pucker of your lips.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, darling. Open your mouth. Now.”

He spares you a few more stuttered rolls of his pelvis. Taps the turgid flesh of his cock against your tongue before feeding the swollen, sensitive head between your lips.

“Oh, Gods,” Astarion sighs. Draws back, his body shivering as your mouth releases him with an obscene pop. You flitter your tongue over the slit, chasing the briny edge of pre-cum.

He peers down at you through furled lashes, irises smoldering like liquid spilled over hot coals. He chuckles something breathy, easing back into the hot suction of your mouth.

“Eager, aren’t we, darling?” he husks. Cheeky as he drives himself deeper until your jaw clicks, your eyes roll back, and your whimper vibrates around him.

Your pussy clenches, and you undulate your hips off the floor. Grip the taut globes of Astarion’s ass, urging him further inside until he agitates your gag reflexes.

Your throat constricts around him, a fist-like vice that brings him barreling forward onto his hands. And he’s a pretty, panting mess hovering over you, alabaster curls falling over his eyes, sweat gliding down the tips, brows creased in anguish.

He gives you minimal time to adjust before taking a fistful of your hair and pinning it to the pillows, keeping you in place so he can fuck into your mouth.

Slowly, he draws his hips backward until only the head rests on the palate of your tongue. You whine petulantly before Astarion pushes back in, building a steady tempo thereafter, your lips stretching so wonderfully to accommodate him each time.

His mouth forms around silent ohs. Breaths choppy as he fucks your face, and saliva meddled with pre-spend bubbles on your cheeks.

Your eyes gloss over with tears, your throat rubbed raw, jaw aching. But you squeeze his ass ever tighter, urging him to use you. To chase that cresting wave of pleasure. You could die like this, with his cock distending your throat and your pussy weeping and begging to be stuffed.

“Gods, fuck, fuck, fuck,” chants your lover. His hips stutter, and his cock throbs on your tongue, fingers gripping your hair in a way that’s almost bruising. You know he’s nearing his peak, and you take to kneading his weighted, tight balls to help steer him to the edge.

It takes but a few more thrusts into the opulent warmth of your mouth before he paints your throat in thick, syrupy steaks of white. He pushes a groan through clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut whilst he cranes his neck back, exhaling his release.

You choke, the hot rush of tears blistering your cheeks. But Astarion holds your mouth in place as you thoroughly milk him, dumping the last vestiges of his cum down your throat.

He slowly unsheathes himself. Crawls down to straddle your hips, petting through the riot of your hair and drawing your swollen mouth into an apologetic kiss. He tenderly entwines your tongues together, the briny tang of his cum coaxing a moan from him.

Astarion rolls onto his back beside you, giving you time to catch your breath. And with your lashes dewy and wet and your lips abused, you chuckle something satisfied. Astarion looks at you warily before laughing himself, seeking out your hand to lace your fingers together.

“I should make you jealous more often,” you muse once your laughter peters. You roll onto your side, propped on your elbow, cheek perched on your hand whilst you run your finger down the length of his arm. A cattish grin rounds your lips.

Astarion scoffs, avoiding your stare. “Jealous? Me?”

You give him a pointed look.

He flinches beneath the weight of your glare, a nervous smile twitching his lips. “Well…maybe just a little.”

You sit like this for a while longer, admiring the flutter of his lashes and the peachy hue of his cheeks. Finally, he breaks the comfortable silence, pinning you with a scarlet-spun gaze.

“We should go.” Astarion slowly sits up, a smirk taking residence on his lips as he tugs you into the circle of his arms. “I’ve much more in store for you, my love. Things I can’t be bothered to do…here.”

You shiver at the thought, boneless as your lover hauls you to your feet. You fix your clothes and hair as best you can before Astarion leads you back to the main lounge, twin smiles adorning your lips.

Astarion swings by the bar to drop some coin onto the counter to pay for your drinks. Catches the eye of the man who’d had his arm around you earlier, and his mind sparkles with a sinister idea.

He draws you against him, your breath coming out in a gasp before he takes possession of your cheeks and lures you into a soul-siphoning kiss. One of tongues and teeth and sloppiness, and you find your thighs rubbing together again to curb the insistent throb between them.

You whimper into his mouth, and Astarion fixes the man with a sinister look over your shoulder as he grips your ass and squeezes. Something of a warning, a threat.

Touch her again, and I’ll have your head on a pike.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion imagine #astarion smut #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 10 months ago

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Neighbors 🩵 Lovers

What if Erik was your sneaky link and your neighbor?

The life of a Museum Curator for the Metropolitan Museum of Art has its ups and downs. Fae McAdams had just gotten promoted and after celebrating over drinks with friends and colleagues, she returned home to her high-rise, luxury Manhattan apartment with stunning skyline views and high-class amenities.

Her girl friends took pictures of her dressed in a sexy evening gown with a plunging neckline that sparkled. Fae posted the photos to her Instagram and received tons of congratulations. She worked hard to get that promotion. A few lemon drop martinis and hookah was much deserved. Now, she can book that flight to Indonesia.

Despite having an amazing Friday night, the one person she’d expect to show up and support her was currently unavailable for whatever reason. Just then, she was reminded when she opened her apartment door and saw him standing there with her dog, Deuce, in his arms. His name is Cordell and he’s a shitty boyfriend.

“Did you get my texts?” Fae questioned with a flat tone while locking her door.

Cordell sat Deuce down and he skirted off to play with his chew toy. Cordell— tall, chocolate, handsome— walked over to Fae, staring down at her from his imposing height. Fae liked them tall, built, and rough around the edges. Wasn’t always the best choice in men since all of her exes have been known to cheat on her. Cordell had never been caught cheating, but he has his faults. This being one of them.

Cordell was the best she’d ever had. He wasn’t some broke nigga laid up on her couch in the same draws. He was an elementary school teacher who was the first man to ever treat her like a gentleman. Butterflies crept up her stomach when he snaked one bulky arm around her hourglass waist, drawing her in so they were glued together. Cordell had to bend his back to get closer. She rolled her eyes and turned away, his soft lips catching her cool cheek instead of her plump lips.

“Fae, it slipped my mind. I would have been there but I had that thing I was telling you about.”

Fae tilted her head back to stare at him, “What thing, Cordell?”

“You know,” Cordell smacked his gums, “That thing with school.”

“The parent-teacher conference?” Fae questioned.

“Yeah. I couldn’t miss this. I hadn’t had the chance to call you back, baby.”

Fae squirmed against Cordell, “You could have sent a text letting me know all of that, Cordell. Why is that so hard for you to do? Simple communication.”

Fae felt Cordell’s arm slip away and she removed her heels before walking past him, brushing against his bare arm. It sent shivers down her back. She was tipsy and horny. He didn’t deserve to have her but the way her coochie was throbbing like a heart-beat, she couldn’t ignore it.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Cordell followed her to her room, “I’m proud of you. I’m happy you got promoted. That’s amazing.”

Fae ignored him and tossed her bag on her bed. She started to undress but Cordell grabbed onto her zipper first, pulling it down. Her dress fell from her shoulders, breasts defying gravity. He lowered the dress past her waist, then her hips, until it fell to her ankles. Cordell crouched down to grab the dress and in the process he kissed her right butt cheek. At his full height, he looked at her reflection through her floor-length mirror, his dark brown eyes sweeping over her body with lustrous desire.

“You a dime-piece, baby,” Cordell grabbed Fae by the chin to force her to look at him through the mirror, “How long you gonna stay mad at me?”

Fae responded with a half shrug before walking away, her hands gathering her hair into a bun as she walked over to her vanity. She secured her hair with a claw clip and started removing her jewelry.

“I did get you a gift. It’s not here yet but I figured you’d be happy about it.”

Fae’s chestnut eyes focused on him through the mirror and a small smile teased her glossy lips.

“I’ll be waiting on this gift.” Fae spoke with disbelief.

Cordell walked over to her at a slow pace, his cologne crowding her personal space. Fae could feel his warm body against her back, pressing her into the vanity. Cordell leaned forward and started peppering her neck with kisses. Fae’s pussy quivered when he added tongue.

“I wanna eat your pussy.” Cordell whispered into her neck.

Fae wasn’t going to tell him no. She turned around, breasts with stiff nipples stroking his chest.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?”

Fae didn’t say a word. She blinked her eyes away from him and pushed him, taking two steps towards her bed before climbing on top. She went to lay back, her fingers dragging her black thong past her hips. Cordell took a seat on the edge of the bed before turning onto his stomach. Fae pressed her thighs together with one of her dainty hands cupping her pussy.

“Can I see that wet pussy?”

“Depends…I don’t think you deserve to taste me.”

“You say that now…you tipsy, ain’t you?”

Fae let out a suppressed laugh, “I am. I should be upset with you right now.”

“Baby, how can you stay mad at me,” Cordell moved her hand out of the way, “When I make you feel like this?”

Cordell used his middle finger to rub up and down between Fae’s slippery pussy lips. She turned her head away, a low moan escaping her mouth. Cordell positioned himself with his face pressed against her pussy, his strong hands separating Fae’s thighs. Her legs dropped open and that pussy covered in peach fuzz and dripping wet was in his mouth. Cordell pushed Fae’s thighs back and swiped his tongue over her clit lickety-split. One of her hands sat on top of his waves while the other twirled a nipple.

Cordell’s dark brown eyes were half-lidded and his thick tongue moved hastily over her clit and inner lips with the right amount of pressure that had Fae bucking her hips.

“Your pussy taste sweet.” Cordell said with a lick of his lips before going back in to eat some more.

“Fuuck,” Fae frowned her face in ecstasy.

Cordell adjusted his body so that he could slip a finger past her opening. He inserted his middle finger slowly, Fae dripping onto the bed from being opened. She could make a big mess. Cordell sucked on her clit lightly while twirling his finger around, swiping her spot and her walls.

“You gon’ cum in my mouth, sexy?”

“Yes!” Fae gripped the back of Cordell’s head, “That’s my spot, baby!”

Her nipples were hard and pointed to the ceiling. Her pussy leaked all over the bed as if she’d sprung a leak. Her inner thighs quivered the more Cordell sucked and licked all over her pretty pussy. She was sensitive, soaking wet, and ready for dick.

Fae’s entire body convulsed and Cordell grabbed her waist to keep her still. He continued to devour her through her orgasm, alternating between licks and sucks.

“Cordell, babe,” Fae whined, “I’m gonna squirt.”

Cordell sat up and quickly slipped his sweat pants and briefs past his hips, his chubby brown dick with a pink tip nothing but a hard, flesh covered pole ready for insertion. He pushed Fae’s hips back and her pussy opened up more. He dropped his seven inches in her wet, warm sex and as soon as his dick hit her spot, Fae squirted all over him.

“Still mad at me, Fae?” Cordell spoke with a quiver in his voice because of the way his dick felt snuggled between her walls.

“Just give me that dick.” Fae replied with tenacity, “This pussy ain’t gonna fuck itself.”

Cordell started moving his toned hips, pumping in and out of her pussy. Fae locked her ankles around his waist and reached down to rub her clit. Cordell increased the speed of his hips and Fae could feel his nut sack slapping against her ass.

“Harder, Dell,” Fae spoke hastily, “I’m so fucking wet, fuck this pussy.”

That lemon drop martini shot straight to her pussy. Cordell puckered his lips and spit on his dick, his way of adding more wetness. Fae rolled her eyes a little so Cordell wouldn’t catch it. She held her legs back and Cordell went harder, his hips snapping into her’s.

“Mhm…this my pussy…” Cordell whispered between strokes, “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Fae moaned, “Here it comes—”

She leaked the more he stroked. It was so wet between her legs that his dick kept slipping out. Cordell pulled Fae up and with his dick still inside he got behind her and Fae arched her back.

Her favorite position.

“Oh, shit,” Fae brought both of her arms out and gripped the sheets, “Yes, baby, don’t stop, oh my god—”

Cordell slapped Fae’s left cheek before using his long fingers to grip her flesh. Fae threw it back while Cordell met her pound-for-pound. Everything became sticky and loud because of her dripping-wet pussy. Fae’s ass made all types of clapping noises from how hard she would thrust back. Eventually, Cordell was close to letting it off. He grabbed her hips and banged her pussy from the back, making Fae cum one final time before he pulled out and came all over her back and ass.

He stepped back and sat down on the bed to catch his breath. Fae collapsed onto the bed and turned her sweaty cheek over her equally sweaty shoulder to see all of his ejaculate dripping between her cheeks. Cordell looked at her like he wanted to go for round two, but Fae was tired.

“You can’t be worn out already, Fae,” Cordell complained.

“I came more than twice.”

“What stopped you before? Come on, ma. Let me make it all up to you.” He begged.

“You did. I got what I wanted, and now I’m satisfied.”

Fae pushed herself off of the bed and positioned herself between Cordell’s legs. She smoothed her hands up his chest and brought her lips to his, giving him the type of kiss that had him moaning in her mouth. His dick bounced between his legs when she sucked on his tongue. Fae giggled before slipping away.

“You’re dead wrong for that!” Cordell shouted after her.

Fae entered her bathroom to take a long shower, laughing at Cordell’s weak attempts to get her back in bed.

“Can you change the sheets please?!”

Fae opened her eyes and grabbed her phone from her side table to check the time. The television was still on and re-runs of Law and Order continued to play on mute. Cordell was snoring like a grisly bear beside her causing Fae to mush his head to try and stop him. After two attempts, Cordell rolled over onto his left side and the snoring seized.

Fae threw her black satin sheets back and climbed out of bed to pee. She flicked on the light and quickly lifted the seat to relieve herself. After she used her bidet and some wipes, she washed her hands with some peach-scented hand soap and removed her satin bonet. Her long, silky, black hair fell over her shoulder and she turned to grab a grey robe from behind the bathroom door. Back in her room, Fae slipped her feet into a pair of matching slippers before exiting the room.

She decided to go and grab some mail from her box since she forgot to check it earlier. It was 2 AM and she didn’t expect too many people to be wandering about this early in the morning. Fae grabbed her keys and placed them in the pocket of her robe and she was out the door. The hall was a little chilly, the slight breeze stiffening her nipples. Fae pressed down on the elevator and waited for two minutes before it reached the top.

The ride down was peaceful, Fae admiring her reflection through the doors of the elevator. It dinged and she was let out onto the lobby floor, making a left towards the mailboxes. She scanned the many gold slots until she found hers; 13F. She opened it with a little gold key and grabbed a stack of envelopes with a small package she assumed was more gloss that she purchased from Fenty Beauty.

Tucking her mail in the crease of her elbow, Fae secured the mail slot and as she was walking away, a man that also lived here that she recognized in passing entered the building wearing a khaki beanie, a white hoodie, light wash jeans that sagged a little in the thighs and crotch, and butter Timbs on his feet. He didn’t spot her at first, his attention drawn to his phone. When he finally looked up, she noticed he wore glasses with a gold rim.

Fae turned away to walk back towards the elevators and she assumed he was going to check for mail as well but he was right behind her, heading in the same direction. She pressed the button and waited as he made himself comfortable next to her. She tried to look at him discreetly, but he was already staring at her. Fae gave him a faint smile, her inner dialogue begging for the elevator doors to open. Why was she feeling queasy?

“Hi”

His voice was deep and raspy with a hint of playfulness.

“Hi.” Fae replied.

The doors opened and he allowed her to enter first before he did. Fae made herself comfortable in a corner of the elevator while he pressed the number thirteen. Nothing else. Fae looked at him and watched as he took a few steps back towards the other corner. The only sound was the constant beep whenever they reached a new floor.

“Thirteenth floor too?” He asked while looking at her over his shoulder.

At that point it was too late for that question.

“I’m sorry, yeah, I live on that floor as well.”

His onyx eyes fell on her and he smirked.

“I was wondering if you were gonna tell me what button to press.”

Fae chuckled, “It’s 2 AM, I’m not all the way there at the moment,” Fae said with a grin.

“2 AM is like 8 PM for New Yorkers though.” He replied with his own smile and a lift of his brow.

“I’m not originally from here.”

“Neither am I.” He said.

He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning away to see what floor they were currently on.

“I’m Fae,” Fae held out her hand for him to shake, her robe opening slightly to reveal more cleavage. She noticed and quickly shook his hand so she could fix herself out of embarrassment. Heat crept up her neck and she didn’t know for sure, but it felt like he was amused by the entire thing.

“Erik.”

“Didn’t mean to flash you, Erik.” Fae said with a nervous laugh, avoiding his eyes.

“All good.”

The elevator opened and Erik went ahead of her to stop the doors from closing.

“Thank you,” Fae slipped out sideways, her arms wrapped around her as if she felt exposed, “Have a good night, Erik.”

“You too, Miss Fae.”

They both began opening their doors, keys jiggling. Before Fae crossed the threshold into her apartment, she brought her attention to Erik one final time, but he was already halfway into his apartment and shutting his door behind him. Fae blinked away, entering her place and closing the door softly.

The slight rays from the morning sun peeked through the long drapes that covered his ceiling to floor windows. Erik rolled over onto his back, his gold chain slanted around his neck. He sat up slowly and grabbed his phone from the wireless charging station on his night stand. Stopping the alarm, Erik fully sat up in bed before stretching his muscular arms above his head.

Erik always kept a tall bottle of water on his bed side table to drink in the morning. He grabbed it and unscrewed the top, taking a few sips before securing it. He checked his phone for texts and noticed a few from old friends and one from a woman named Patrice that he’d been messing around with for a couple of weeks. Opening the text, he was blessed with fat pussy.

Patrice: Good morning, King. Can I see that dick that was deep in me last night?

Erik decided to entertain her and show off his morning wood. His room was flooded with just the right amount of natural light. The golden rays of the sun against his moisturized erection would be art. Already nude, Erik opened his camera and when he caught the perfect light, he angled his phone to catch his lower abdomen and down to his bobbing girth. Erik sent the picture with a kiss emoji.

After doing a couple of stretches, Erik entered his bathroom to start his self care routine. He turned on his shower to allow the steam to circulate and activate the fragrance from the eucalyptus plant hanging from his shower head. He stood at his mirror and went in to brush his teeth first. After brushing twice, he used his tongue scraper, flossed, and rinsed with mouth wash.

Erik entered his shower and cleansed with a lightly scented soap first, then he exfoliated, and lastly he used a body wash to finish. He stepped out of the shower smelling like Italian Bergamot, Hinoki, Grapefruit, and Amber. He wrapped a fluffy charcoal grey towel around his waist and stood at his foggy mirror to do his facial routine. Afterwards, Erik added some maracuja oil and shea butter to his locs and facial hair.

He covered his body in a lotion with the same notes of Bergamot and Hinoki, and got dressed in a white beater with grey joggers and white Nike socks. He strolled out towards his office to check his work laptop for any new information on a current job. So far, all he knows is that it’s in Bangkok. He was enjoying the time away from getting his hands dirty for a change. A new email attachment informed him of when he would be leaving. He had a month to prepare and everything from flight, to hotel, to transportation was covered.

Most days for Erik between jobs weren’t very eventful. He didn’t complain though, he’s used to being alone with his dog or working out. He didn’t have any friends in New York and he honestly didn’t care to make any. From time to time, he’d travel back to the Bay Area or Boston to catch up with old friends, but his job required him to travel often. No time for a relationship either. Not that he ever actually had one.

He has needs, and he satisfies those needs. But commitment isn’t something he could do with his line of work. No one really knows what he does, at least not the people in his personal life. Erik has a well rehearsed explanation as to what he does for a living. To them, he works for a security company that pays him well to travel, stay prepared for anything, deterring crime from the people he protects, and occasionally threaten. In between his job as a bodyguard he’s a personal trainer.

Erik made himself a mug of lemon ginger tea and prepared a veggie omelette with a side of avocado toast. He fed his dog; Diesel, a brown and white American Pitbull Terrier, before putting on a hoodie and some running shoes to take him for a walk. As Erik was leaving his apartment with Diesel, his neighbor, Fae, was leaving her apartment with her Frenchie.

Fae locked eyes with Erik and smiled, waving hello to him. Erik returned the wave with a smile of his own. He looked down at her dog dressed for the fall weather.

“Hi, Erik,” Fae greeted.

“Hello, Miss Fae. Going to the dog park too?” Erik asked.

Fae stared up at him through her lashes with a smile, “Yes. I figured I could go a little earlier. Your dog is cute!”

“Thank you. This is Diesel. He’s friendly to most,” Erik bends down to scratch behind his ears, “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Deuce Brix! But you can just call him Deuce.”

“‘Sup Deuce?”

Erik crouched down to rub Deuce. He barked a few times but not because he felt threatened. He let Erik pet him and scratch behind his ears. Erik stood back up and continued walking alongside Fae. He pressed the button for the elevator and they both watched Deuce and Diesel sniff each other.

“Sleep well last night?” Fae asked.

“Yeah. I had a bit of jet leg. Took some melatonin and I was out.”

“Do you always have trouble sleeping?”

Fae instantly regretted asking him, a sorry look in her eyes.

“You don’t have to answer that.” Fae said.

“It’s okay. It’s only the hardest when I’m back in from work. After about a week, I’m back to normal.”

They both left the elevator and walked out of the apartment building. Deuce was sniffing around while Diesel was ready to take off and leave Erik behind.

“Chill out, boy! I’ll let you off when we get to the park.”

Fae giggles, “Must be moving a little slow for him!”

“Always like this too.” Erik said.

“How old is Diesel?”

“Almost two years old. How about Deuce?”

“He just turned one like…a month ago. I had a doggie cake for him and everything.”

“Hm, cute,” Erik raked his eyes up and down Fae’s frame, “looks like you spoil him too. Look at his lil fit.”

“This is my baby, of course I’m gonna spoil him.”

Only two blocks away on W. 25th Street, they entered Jemmy’s Dog Run at Madison Square Park. It’s a six point two acre green space at the heart of New York City. It’s open year-round and it’s a fun place for pets to exercise, socialize, and play.

Fae and Erik found a nearby bench near a small play area. They both unhooked their dog leashes and watched as they scurried off—paws to dirt—joining the other dogs in some fun. Fae crossed one of her legs over the other and relaxed into the bench. Erik was leaning forward with his elbows propped up on his knees. Fae scrolled through her phone and Erik kept an eye on Deuce and Diesel. He would occasionally look over at Fae and at times she would look up at him and smile.

She’s a baddie. A brown sugar beauty. He liked everything about her from her smile to her hair. He liked that she was into dogs. He loved that she lived right next door to him. Erik wondered if she was available. Something told him she wasn’t. He could sense it in the way she maneuvered around him. He hadn’t seen a man coming and going from her apartment.

“You said you weren’t from here. Where are you from if you don’t mind me asking?” Erik asked.

“Jersey.”

“Oh, I was thinking D.C or something. You’re not that culturally different. It’s just cheaper to live there than here.” Erik said.

“True,” Fae fiddled with her hoop earring, while staring at Erik,” most of my old friends from Northern Jersey are content with staying there and rarely ever come to NYC. I just wanted something different. I knew I wanted to go to school here. So, I packed up and moved. It wasn’t easy…”

Fae continues, “People come to New York to challenge themselves and partake in great art, music, movies and food. They want excitement, late nights, strange encounters and places that stay open past 10pm. This doesn’t make these people any better than those who don’t come but they may be more willing to take on a risk and more open-minded in dealing with different types of people.”

“Jersey may lack some of the urban excitement of New York, but it can be a peaceful, idyllic place.”

“I miss it. I don’t have the strongest relationship with my family ever since my mom died. I keep in touch with my little sister often. We make time to see each other. You got to, you know what I’m saying?”

“…sorry about your mom,” Erik gave Fae a once-over before his eyes fell to Diesel’s leash in his hands, “I know all too well how that feels.”

Erik could feel Fae’s brown eyes observing him.

“Wow,” Fae exhales, “You lost your mom too…”

“When I was a youngin’. I’m better now that I’m older but…I still think about it and…I’m sure you know…It’s never easy.”

“Definitely,” Fae sat up straighter, “You kinda learn to suppress it. I get triggered whenever it’s her birthday, Mother’s Day, you know…”

“Same.”

Erik’s mouth curved into a smile.

“What?” Fae asked.

“I actually talked about her without getting all sad.”

“I’ve been told that I have this presence that makes it easier for people to talk to me. I just listen…know what to say…”

They sat in silence, occasionally getting up to check on their pets. When they both returned to their designated bench, Fae sat a little closer this time.

“Where are you from?”

“Cali. Born and raised in Oakland.”

“That’s so far from here. Why New York?”

“Uh,” Erik toyed with his hood, “I went to school in Boston and I was trying to figure out if I wanted to stay here or go back home. I decided to move to New York because it was a change of scenery and I won’t run into anybody I know.”

“You like meeting new people?”

“Depends,” Erik stretched his arms before leaning forward again, “I’m not really a people-person.”

“Okay,” Fae nodded her head, “I sort of have to be, it comes with the job.”

Erik leaned in closer, “What do you do?”

“I’m a Curator at the MET. I love my job.”

“Seems like a cool job. Surrounded by art and history.” Erik said.

“It is. I just got a promotion so, not only do I get to do what I love, I get paid well for it.”

“You got to in this recession.” Erik chuckled.

“What about you?” Fae questioned, tilting her head with curiosity.

“Me?”

“Work?—”

“Oh, I’m a Bodyguard. I also do a bit of personal training.”

“Really? So you’re a bodyguard for who?”

Erik leaned back and slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Anybody with money and power pretty much. It requires me to travel a lot. Not just in the U.S, but other countries.”

“I would assume you have to have some sort of background with that shit, right?”

“Mhm. You definitely have to be qualified. Credentials and all. I used to be in Special Ops.”

Fae’s eyes went wide with surprise. Erik’s eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-six. Why?” Erik asked with a lop-sided grin.

“I figured it would take years to like…accomplish all of that.”

“It does. A lot of discipline. A lot of sacrifice.”

“Hardly any time for family I’m sure.”

“That’s the choice you make.”

Fae straightened her back and her smile slipped from her beautiful lips when she looked at Erik’s expression. He drew his lower lip between his teeth and he looked at her with eyes so ablaze that she turned away quickly to check for Deuce. Fae stood up and the breeze swept up into Erik’s face, Fae’s scent crowding his senses. He followed, a part of him wanting to confirm if she indeed had a man. He hadn’t had this much interest in a woman for years. Crazy that he just met her hours ago.

“Deuce!” Fae called out for her Frenchie.

“Diesel!” Erik whistled, “Diesel!”

Fae and Erik walked forward towards the doggie playfield. Her smell kept drawing him in.

“I like your perfume.” Erik said.

Fae’s big, brown, pensive eyes stared back at him and then she blushed, “Thank you. It’s Kayali Vanilla.”

Diesel charged towards Erik and leaped up at him. He was still in a playful mood so Erik pulled out a ball and tossed it for him to fetch. Fae picked up Deuce and coddled him while he licked her cheek. Diesel came running back with the ball in his mouth and his tail wagging.

“I forgot to bring my ball.” Fae said with a pout.

“You think Deuce would play?” Erik asked.

“Yeah,” Fae let him down, “Look Deuce!”

Erik tossed the ball and Deuce and Diesel ran after it. Fae giggled watching both dogs wrestle for it. Deuce grabbed it with his teeth and ran back to them with Diesel on his tail, barking loudly.

“Good boy, Deuce!”

Erik tossed the ball again.

“Look at ‘em go.” He said.

“They really are good with each other. We should plan more doggy dates together.”

Erik cocked his head with a teasing look in his eyes.

“Just doggy dates?”

Fae shifted her eyes but couldn’t hide her obvious blush.

“Just doggy dates, sir.”

Erik let out a suppressed laugh, “my guess is you have a boyfriend?”

He tossed the ball again.

“I do,” Fae gave Erik a friendly smile.

“Cool,” Erik shrugged both of his shoulders with a playful smile, “You ready to head out, Miss Fae?”

“Yes.”

After securing Deuce and Diesel, they headed back to their apartment building. Erik wasn’t quite ready to part ways just yet. Her sweet smile and warm voice he couldn’t get enough of among other things.

“You sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind our doggy dates?”

Fae gave Erik an enigmatic smile. His plump limps turned up into a dimpled-smirk.

“No.” She finally replied.

“It took you way too long to answer that.”

Erik laughed and Fae rolled her eyes before glancing at him.

“He wouldn’t mind. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hm.”

Erik tucked his lips into his mouth, dimples deeper in his cheeks. Fae looked at him with those angelic eyes of hers.

“What is hm?”

Erik’s brows disappeared behind his locs, “Nothing.”

Erik held the door open for Fae and of course he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t check her out from behind. He was pleased. They made it to the elevators to make their ascent to the thirteenth floor.

“Got any plans for the rest of the day?” Erik asked.

Fae tucked her chin and smiled.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Just having small talk,” Erik shrugged, “I like talking to you.”

He knew his words would have an effect. Fae looked at him and he could tell her breaths quickened.

“No need to get all nervous, Miss Fae.”

The elevator doors opened and Fae left first. At their respective doors, Fae put the key in but didn’t turn the knob to enter. Erik waited, his eyes compelling her to say what was on her mind. She shifted, that sensual look in her eyes again.

“I had a really great time, Erik.”

“Me too.”

“Uhm,” Fae reached into her pocket to retrieve her phone, “What’s your socials?”

Erik smirked at her and retrieved his own phone.

“I have Twitter and Instagram.” Erik said.

“Okay,” my handle is fae.mcadams on instagram and Twitter it’s beautifulfaee.”

Erik followed her on both. Fae waited for his notification to pop up and she returned the follow.

“Don’t use it much.” Erik revealed.

I can see that. Last post was a year ago on instagram.”

She looked up at Erik through her lashes with tender eyes.

“I’ll see you around, neighbor.” Erik said.

“Likewise,” Fae smiled, “Bye, Erik.”

A few days had gone by and Erik hadn’t seen Fae. He hoped to catch her leaving her apartment or coming in from work. So, to stroke his curiosity, he pulled up her Instagram to just have a look. He’d just finished a training session with a client and went to do his own workout. He worked for Equinox in between jobs. He brings a holistic approach to his workouts and although they may be advanced, his clients leave the gym satisfied and transformed.

Erik did a little bit of cardio first to warm up and then he hit the weights. Today was lower body day for him. He started with heavy back squats, three sets with five to seven reps. He went on to doing barbell RDLs, leg extensions, and calf raises all with the same reps. He finished his workout with a core circuit and headed for the showers.

In the locker room, Erik took a minute to admire his physique. His tattoos stood out against his sculpted arms from all the sweat dripping down his body. He took a few pictures with no real intention of uploading them to his social media, just as progress pics. He just got back into sculpting his body more than bulking up.

After taking a shower, Erik got dressed in an all black hoodie with matching joggers and headed back to his apartment. The drive over only took him twenty minutes. He entered his building greeting the security at the door before walking over to his mailbox. He didn’t expect to find anything except for bills and a few magazines he wasn’t going to keep. Sifting through his mail, he strolled over to the elevators the same time a dark skinned male and a light skinned woman did.

Erik looked up and noticed the guy in passing but not so much as the woman. The elevator doors opened and he entered first, pressing button thirteen. They came in behind him, the woman giggling. Erik turned to look at them over his shoulder to get their attention.

“Which floor?” Erik questioned.

“My bad, thirteen, boss,” the man replied.

Erik nodded and focused his attention back to the elevator doors. He had his AirPod Max headphones halfway covering his ears so that he was aware of his surroundings. The woman had auburn hair sleek down her back and she was dressed like she’d just returned from brunch. The man with her was dressed in flashy attire, all designer, drawing a lot of attention to himself.

“‘Dell,” the woman whispered, “You owe me for last time.”

“I gotchu, baby.”

The elevator doors opened and Erik went his way. The couple left the elevator with their hands all over each other. Erik gave them one final look at had to do a double take when he noticed which apartment they were heading to. The man apparently named Dell opened the door while the pretty yellow bone wrapped her arms around his waist. She noticed Erik was watching and gave him a flirty wink.

“Yo, you good?”

Erik slowly pulled his eyes away from the woman to look at him.

“I said, you good?”

His tone was abrasive and Erik simply chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Yo, dead-ass, you keep staring like you got a problem?”

“Calm down, Cordell, it’s cool. Ain’t that serious.”

“I’m only asking questions,” Cordell gave Erik an icy look with his lip turned up into a mug.

“Why don’t you go inside before you get yourself hurt." Erik said with an even tone of voice, just the slightest bit of playfulness. He knew dudes like Cordell very well. Liked to play tough in front of their bitch. He could see that man shaking from where he stood.

Erik walked into his apartment and shut the door behind him. He could still hear the woman trying to calm Cordell down. As long as he didn’t come knocking on Erik’s door, he can talk until he’s blue in the face. Erik wasn’t much for talking.

He flopped down on his couch and mulled over what he’d just witnessed. All he could think about was Fae. What type of dumb ass piece of shit do you have to be to cheat on a woman and disrespect her by bringing her back to where she lays her head? He hardly knew Fae and he was so furious.

Erik went to Instagram and he didn’t need to go to her page, she was the first thing he saw as soon as he opened Instagram.

Outfit of the day. First day back to work as Lead Curator! I’m so excited for this journey 🤎 🖼️

Erik went to her page and was blessed once again with how fine this fucking woman is.

He clicked on a picture that he knew was from a few days ago when they went to the dog park.

How could you cheat on this? Erik needed to tell her. She needed to know that her man was doing her dirty.

_ES87: Big Deuce! 🐾

Erik got a reply back two minutes later beneath his comment.

fae.mcadams: ☺️

Going to his notifications he noticed ten. Fae had liked pretty much all of his photos. Erik couldn’t help but to smirk. He decided to DM her.

_ES87: what’s good mama Deuce!

All he could think about was her cheating boyfriend. He didn’t feel right telling her about it through a DM. If he was going to let her know, it was going to happen in person.

fae.mcadams: nothing much daddy Diesel!

_ES87: are you supposed to be on your phone at work?

fae.mcadams: I’m off actually 🤨

_ES87: Any plans for your evening?

fae.mcadams: my boyfriend is taking me out to celebrate my promotion.

Your boyfriend is fucking some other bitch brains out at the moment.

_ES87: have fun. Much deserved ✨

fae.mcadams: thank you.

Fae got home and she was happy to be in her domain and away from work. It was a pretty busy day for her. She took off her heels and greeted Deuce at the door. He licked her affectionately and Fae went looking for Cordell. She found him in the living room with a gift bag and a big grin.

“Hey, beautiful,” Cordell kissed Fae, “Your gift for being such a hard-working woman.”

“Thank you,” Fae beamed, “I wonder what it is.”

Fae sat the bag down on the coffee table and she pulled out a Louis Vuitton box. She gasped and looked up at Cordell with wide eyes.

“No you didn’t!”

Cordell laughed as he watched Fae rip the top off of the box and pull out the most gorgeous bag she’s ever owned. She had a Louis Vuitton bag years ago but it had gotten damaged in a house fire back in Jersey. She pulled out the cutest little bag that would be perfect whenever she went out for drinks and needed something small to carry her things.

“It’s just perfect,” Fae pouted, “Thank you so much!”

Fae jumped into Cordell’s arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She stared longingly into his eyes before pecking his lips a few times. He tapped her on the butt and then let her back down. Fae grabbed her gift and headed for her room, giddy and smiling from ear to ear.

“We got dinner reservations in about two hours!” Cordell shouted from the couch.

“I’m gonna freshen up and get ready now!”

Fae undressed and went to take a shower. She double cleansed, exfoliated, rubbed down in body oil, and spritzed herself all over with Eilish Eau de Parfum. She got dressed in a black turtleneck dress and paired it with black boots and her new bag. She styled her hair in a half-up, half-down look and accessorized with gold jewelry. She walked out to find Cordell wearing an off-white cable-knit sweater with black jeans and black Timbs. He had on his gold Rolex and gold cross chain. He looked great and his outfit complimented hers. As they were leaving hand-in-hand, Erik was exiting his apartment dressed in black jeans as well with an olive green crew neck, and black Doc Martens. He had diamond studs in both of his ears, rings on his fingers, and a thick diamond Cuban link hanging from his neck.

Erik and Fae locked eyes and Erik was devouring her with one look. There was no denying his attraction to Fae. He started from her feet all the way up to her hair, dragging his eyes over her frame slowly, like he was studying a canvas. Fae could feel her stomach lurch when his sensual gaze focused on hers again. He was silently telling her that she looked damn good. When he looked away at Cordell, his eyes became cold and menacing. Fae looked at Cordell and he mirrored Erik’s expression.

What the hell is going on?

“Hi,” Erik greeted Fae before pressing the down button on the elevator.

“Hello.”

It was safe that they didn’t mention names. Something transpired between the two of them and Fae wanted to know what happened.

They all entered the elevator, Cordell with his arm around Fae, pulling her close, while Erik remained in front of them, keeping his eyes forward. It was eerily silent the entire ride down. They made it to the lobby floor and Erik stepped out first. Fae went ahead of Cordell and when she stepped out she shared a sneaky glance with Erik. What happened next she wasn’t prepared for.

“You look amazing.”

Fae's eyes went round with surprise at his boldness. She parted her glossy lips to say something, but Cordell grabbed her hand, leading her in the opposite direction.

“I swear, this nigga is asking to get his ass beat.” Cordell spoke angrily.

Erik smirked and walked towards the garage entrance. But he didn’t leave without a final word.

“Don’t hurt ‘em love.”

Fae blushed and gave Cordell a stern look for him to chill. He was so pissed a vein appeared in the middle of his forehead.

“Let’s go, the ride is waiting,” Fae lightly shoved Cordell and he finally walked out of the building.

The ride over was uncomfortable. Fae would cut her eyes to Cordell and see him jerking his leg and blowing out his breath harshly. Fae grabbed his hand and rubbed it with her thumb to calm him down.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

“Ask that nigga. I don’t even know that clown. He had the issue with me first.”

“Cordell,” Fae looked heavenward, “It was just a compliment. If that’s why you’re upset you really shouldn’t be. I’m your woman.”

“This Michael B. Jordan looking-ass nigga got one more time to look at me like he wanna do something.”

Fae shut her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

“And do you know him or something?”

“I’ve seen him in passing, Cordell.”

Fae felt small beneath his accusatory gaze. She knew that she’d done more than see him in passing. She spent a lot of time with him some days ago with their dogs and exchanged socials. She even stalked his Instagram page, liking all of his photos. And his Twitter, on the surface level it looked innocent with not many posts, but his likes…

“You let me know if he tries anything, Fae. I’ll knock his ass out, dead-ass.”

“Cordell, are we going to talk about this all night? Everything was going so well.”

Cordell dragged his hand down his face.

“I’m sorry.”

He grabbed Fae by the hand and brought it to his lips to kiss.

“This is supposed to be your special day.”

“It is. And you’re ruining it.” Fae said with a whiny voice.

Cordell chuckled, “I am. Daddy sorry.”

It’s been a week since they both crossed paths.

But Fae didn’t stop looking through his Instagram.

She spent an unhealthy amount of minutes staring at his pictures.

And an even unhealthier amount of minutes scrolling through his Twitter likes. Post after post after post had her squirming. It’s obvious that’s his passion. Fae had it bad. So bad.

What was she thinking?! Fae stood up from her work desk and gathered her things to leave. She wasn’t going to get herself caught up. She’d never been this distracted by another man in her life. Fae bid farewell to her coworkers and made her way towards her car. She got in and followed the exit out of the garage and out onto the bustling New York streets. She preferred to drive in silence to keep her focused.

Her fingers tapped impatiently against her stirring wheel twenty minutes into traffic. All she could think about was Erik’s body. His voice. His eyes. His Twitter likes. She was losing it. She knew it was wrong to think these thoughts about him. Fae also knew that she had to distance herself from Erik indefinitely. She’s in a relationship and it’s not appropriate to allow another man to flirt with her.

Finally home, she parked her car and took her time exiting. Her back was turned and she was reaching for her work bag when she was startled by a pair of hands on her waist. She shot up and turned quickly, sighing with relief before glaring at him.

“Erik! Don’t do that. What is wrong with you?”

“My bad, ma,” Erik furrowed his brows, “I called you like three times just now.”

“…you did?”

Erik slowly nodded his head, “yeah. I’m sorry I scared you. Need some help?”

“No thanks,” Fae shut her car door and slipped past him.

“How was work?”

Her eyes took in his appearance and she wished she hadn’t. He had on a leather letterman jacket, a white T-shirt that clung to his chest and torso, and medium blue denim jeans with Jordan’s on his feet. His locs looked freshly retwisted and that tapered fade was lined up with the sharpest clippers known to man.

“Productive.”

Erik opened the door for her and Fae thanked him. She walked as fast as she could to the elevators but Erik was right on her heels.

“Sorry about last week.”

Fae looked up at Erik, “It’s okay.”

“You don’t look like it’s okay. You look like you’re mad at me.”

They entered the elevator and Fae pressed the button before Erik’s finger could even touch it. He blinked his eyes and poked his lip out playfully.

“I’m not mad at you.” Fae said with a flat tone.

“Uh-huh.”

Fae kept staring at his hair and he caught her looking. Erik chuckled, hands in his pockets.

“How my boy Deuce doing?”

“He’s good. Diesel?”

“Same old pit.” Erik said.

Erik rocked back and forth on his heels as if he wanted to say something.

“You okay?” Fae asked, genuinely concerned.

“…Whatchu got planned for tonight?”

Fae felt her stomach do a somersault.

“Uh—Erik–I don’t think—”

“Fae,” Erik turned to look at her, “I wanna tell you something…something important…something you should know. I figured you could meet me at that bar across the street. It’s not a date, I promise.”

Fae studied his face, looking for any signs of untrustworthiness. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, and he looked upset about something. She wondered if this had anything to do with Cordell. She’d been trying and trying for days now to get him to open up and he keeps shutting her out. They even argued about it a few times. This could be her chance to find out what the hell happened.

“Alright. I can meet you at the bar tonight. To talk.”

Fae emphasized on the talk.

“Yes ma’am. Just talking.”

Erik gave her a smirk and held the elevator door for her. She gave him a shy smile before walking towards her apartment.

She had to figure out what she was going to wear.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @lisayourworries @bellleame @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @bakarisprxncess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @90sisthenew80s @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @angelicniah @queenfaithmarie @soulfulbeauty19 @asweet-serendipity @aijha @novaniskye@princessxotwod@callmemckenzieee@blowmymbackout @lahuttor@momobaby227@blackerthings @kenbieee @palmstreesallday @kokokonako

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

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dark-and-kawaii · 3 months ago

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✧˖°. A Special Reward ✧₊⁺

Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: You were his little warlock~ his precious songbird. As you make your way back into the house hope, your body weary from your travels and seeking clients for him, Raphael takes notice and offers a rare opportunity to take care of you for a change.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: A special little gift/ trade for my beloved friend @octarinecat xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Soft Raphael | Comfort | Fingering

The journey back to Raphael- to that familiar house of hope, was a blur of aching muscles and weary thoughts. Each step a reminder of how long it took for you to seek out new clients for him, your body also tender from all this running around looking for that damn crown he so desperately wanted… He was your devil though, your patron…

Why you made a pact with him you weren't quite sure. Maybe it was the way he talked, his words always filled with such conviction- such belief in his own cause. Or maybe you just wanted someone to rely on. Either way you were his now,and despite everything he was forcing upon you- all these tiring errands, he was your entire world, everything you cared about was now wrapped up in one single soul… A devils soul. Any sane person would run away screaming, but not you… He had become everything you could cling to.

As you pushed open the grand doors to his boudoir, the scent of incense, cherries, and wine all mingled together, washing over you like a familiar embrace. And oh how it all felt like home.

Your eyes searched for the familiar face, for that familiar body, for those wings that would sometimes surround you as he held you tight and kissed the back of your neck… And there he was, Raphael, your devil, lounging in his grand bath, the water lapping gently against his skin. The room dimly lit causing the shadows to dance across the walls as the flickering candles reflect off the surface of the water.

His hookah rests in his grasp, a tendril of smoke curling lazily into the air, and his eyes- those deep, brown, doe like eyes- find yours with a knowing smirk, “Ah, my little mouse,” he drawls, his voice a smooth, velvety caress like always, “I feared you might not return to me. You were gone for such an interminable length of time, I almost found myself... concerned.” He laughs, the very notion of worry amusing to him...

The rich sound of his chuckle makes your heart swell and stirs the butterflies in your stomach… His tone alone making you bow your head in submission, your fingers gripping at the hem of your dress, your knuckles white. How could you ever disappoint him?

With a languid snap of his fingers, embers circles around him and then, the bath is empty. The water still and lifeless as ifhe was never there, the hookah nozzle dangling on the side, smoke still rising from its tip.

The familiar sound of him appearing just across the room- right beside his bed, breaks you out of your trance, and you look up to see him. Raphael stands, completely nude and unashamed, the glow from the candles illuminating his handsome features- his gorgeous body. His eyes still focused on yours as you shyly glance away, knowing you don't have permission to stare, yet.

Raphael grins, he’s so delighted and proud of you, his good little warlock. That you obey his commands without quesrion, or complaint, that you never dare to look upon him without his express consent, and that you were the only one that could make him feel something other than disgust.

“Come,” he beckons, and with a snap -a small gesture to let you know it’s okay to look-. He begins to climb atop his plush bed laying on his stomach, awaiting for you to join him.

You approach slowly each step bringing you closer to the promise of his touch. Your fingers graze his arm, a gentle caress that speaks of the devotion you have for him. As he lies on his stomach, waiting, his eyes half lidded and wanting- demanding that you do as he likes as always.

The bed shifts under your weight, dipping down slightly as you climb onto the silky sheets. Your leg swings over his side so that you may straddle his back with a practiced ease. The softest moan escapes him as he relaxes beneath your fingers, your hands running along his spine.

Your fingers trace every line and curve, each muscle, every divot in his skin, before they dip lower- following his backbone, all the way to his tail bone, and then back up again. You notice how he shudders, how his breath hitches when your hands begin to knead the tender, delicate muscles of his back, how his breathing gets deeper and more drawn out with each passing second.

As you lean forward, pressing yourself against his back, the heat of his skin warming your own, his brows furrow with feigned irritation. A quiet huff escaping him when he turns his head to face you, his eyes narrowed in mock aggravation,“You’ve been absent for what feels like an eternity, leaving me to ponder if you were worth the keep or not. And now, you presume to indulge in idleness. Must I remind you of the fate that befalls inept warlocks who dare to keep their patron waiting excessively? Or is it that you are subtly imploring me for a measure of discipline?”

His words are sharp and cold, but they lack any true bite, his anger not really there, only a farce to tease and taunt. The truth was, he feels how your soft, tender body presses against his- the sensation making him feel safe, and warm… Comforted.

Though he’d dare not admit it, he needs this, the touch, the intimacy, and the love- and he would deny that he felt such a thing till his very soul was ripped apart.

“Apologies… I- I was not seeking punishment, nor have I forgotten my place…” Your voice is a whisper, “I’ll continue as you like-“ As your hands continue their soothing ministrations across Raphael's back, you feel the tension in his muscles begin to melt away. Yet, there's a moment- a fleeting second when your arm moves just so, and a sharp twinge of pain shoots through you, “Nnh’!” You wince, the involuntary reaction not lost on Raphael.

He shifts slightly beneath you, feigning irritation once more, though there's a playful edge to his voice now, “Ah, my dear mouse, must you press so insistently?” he chides, “One might think you are attempting to knead me into submission.” His eyes and brows furrow together.

His eyes, ever observant, catch the flicker of discomfort that crosses your face again, “But what is this?” he muses, turning his head slightly to regard you with mock concern, “Have you gone and made yourself sore, my poor little mouse? All for me?”

There's a pause, a heartbeat where the world holds its breath, and then Raphael sighs, “I suppose I could grant you a reprieve,” he concedes, a hint of warmth in his voice, “After all, you have earned it. You found the Crown of Karsus, did you not? Such a feat deserves recognition.”

“Raphael? I-... I- thank you, but- it’s my responsibility to keep you satis-“

Before you could finish responding, he moves with a sudden, fluid grace, flipping you over with a deftness that leaves you breathless. A ring of fire bursts into existence around him as his true devilish form emerges.

His skin a deep, infernal red, his horns arching grandly like a regal crown upon his head. His wings unfurl, stretching wide, their span a testament to his true nature. And his tail, sinuous and serpentine, wraps gently around your ankle, a reminder of the bond- the contract that ties you to him.

Raphael takes your hand into his, bringing it up to his lips so that he may place a soft, lingering kiss against your fingertips, a tender, reverent gesture, before pulling away and regarding you with a wicked gleam in his eye. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his hand tracing soothing patterns across the top of your hand. In this moment, the roles are reversed, and you find yourself enveloped in his warmth, the weight of the world slipping away as you surrender to his care. A rare occurrence- one that you will most certainly not take for granted.

It's not often he shows affection, or any other emotion besides disdain and disgust, or love for only himself. His true feelings always hidden beneath a mask, his eyes though, never betraying his thoughts.

“You've done well,” he whispers, his breath a caress against your ear, his hand flicking in the air to dismiss the candlelight, leaving the two of you bathed in darkness.

When you feel his nails softly rake down your thigh you bite your lip.

A low, rumbling growl reverberates in his chest, a warning to let you know you should not keep quiet- he wishes to hear you, his little songbird. He wants to listen to the symphony of sweet sounds that you make, especially when his fingers finally dip between your thighs, parting your folds.

“Do not dare to hide your voice from me, I want to hear it, my songbird.”

“Yes Raphael, I won't... I-I promise- I-!”

He hums, satisfied when he flips your dress and moves your laced panties to the side, his fingers rubbing your clit in slow, teasing circles. You feel the pressure build in your core as his finger dip further, teasing your entrance, his nails catchingagainst the soft flesh. Leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers about your demise- how his body will devour yours and leave nothing behind but a babbling mess. The words a dark caress, but his actual touch a promise of how gentle he’ll try to be.

He's a contradiction in every way, a devil- a lover, a friend, a foe. He's the very essence of everything and nothing, the yin and the yang. He is your light, your darkness, your savior, your destruction, and you couldn't live without him- not anymore.

A breathy moan slips past your lips, and he smirks, pleased that you're doing exactly as he asked, not hiding away any noises you make.

Raphael watches you with a feral, almost predatory look. A dark chuckle escaping him when he slips a single digit inside you, and the way you squirm, the breathy moan that leaves your lips, your cheeks flushed a beautiful pink- it's all a delicious sight to behold, a vision that will forever be etched into his mind.

Outside his balcony a storm brews, a cacophony of thunder and lightning filling the red skies of Avernus, as he pushes a second finger into your core. The red hue from the storm outside dances across your body, highlighting the graceful arch of your back as you respond to his touch.

Raphael groans, a sound somewhere between desire and desperation, as he slides his fingers out, then thrusts them back in. It's not enough, it will never be enough, he’s desperate for you, and he needs you now.

You feel his claws sink into your hip, his grip almost painful as he lifts you effortlessly, his hand lifting one of your legs over his broad shoulder just as his tail guides your other leg to rest over his opposite shoulder. The position leaving you open and vulnerable to whatever it is Raphael wants to do to you.

His hand grips the nape of your neck, pinning you down to the bed, his thumb lightly brushing the column of your throat, a silent warning not to move, or else…

The air was thick with the scent of brimstone, cherries and the fresh scent of the storm just outside. The smell of it all making you light headed as the room spun around you, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Ra-Raphael~ Let my body sing a melody of devotion and praise to you, my-my patron~! Ah-ha~!!”

He grins, his sharp teeth bared, a wicked smirk that promises only blissful torment, before he sheathes himself completely inside you, a feral groan rumbling in his chest. His hips snapping against yours in a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each thrust hits a spot so deep inside you, a place no human could reach, and it drives you crazy, the pleasure, the feeling of being stretched so perfectly by his cock, the way his eyes seem to glow with an otherworldly fire, and his wings- they curl around the two of you, cocooning you in his embrace.

And his tail- oh, how his tail curls around your ankle, squeezing ever so slightly, as if he was silently reminding you that no matter where you go, you belong to him, body, mind and soul.

A particularly harsh thrust has you crying out, your back arching, the movement pushing your chest forward against his squishing them together.

He snarls, the sight of you- the feel of you, writhing beneath him, making his heart beat faster, and his cock twitch inside you.

Your walls clench around him, and it's almost too much, the way you feel so tight… You were nothing like Haarlep- no you were everything he needed. Haarlep was made to fit his needs but you- you were perfect. Your insides taking the shape of his cock as if you were molded just for him.

The storm outside is but a reflection of the passion within the boudoir, the sanctuary you find in each other's arms. No words needed, as you feel Raphael's hand release your throat, trailing down between the valley of your breasts and to your belly.

He leans down, his breath ghosting against the shell of your ear, and the low timbre of his voice makes you shiver,"Cum for me, my little songbird~"

With that, he gives one final, forceful thrust, his lips claiming yours in a heated, passionate kiss.

Your orgasm rips through you, and the sound you make, the way your whole body tenses as you arch your back, is enough to send Raphael over the edge with you.

You feel his seed spilling into you, and it's a euphoric feeling, being filled with his warmth, knowing he chose to give this pleasure to you, and you alone.

The moment lingers, as he collapses beside you, his tail still curled possessively around your ankle, a reminder of who owns you, and who owns him.

His head rests against the pillow, his hair splayed across it like a hellish halo, and the smile he gives is one of adoration, his eyes warm, and his smile genuine. He is at peace with you, his little songbird, his warlock, his mouse~

The room is silent, save for the sound of his the storm outside, his breathing and your own ragged pants, the two of you basking in the afterglow...

You play with his hair, his sleeping face peaceful and relaxed, his expression almost boyish- innocent. You can't help but smile at the sight, your fingers still brushing through his hair.

You can't imagine ever leaving him- not even for a moment. You would gladly follow him wherever he does, forever thankful you signed a contract with such a devil.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep #bg3 raphael #baldurs gate #tav #raphael the cambion #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 x tav #raphael x reader

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lovexjoe · 4 months ago

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In Love With A Stripper Part 1

Synopsis: what happens when a big time cartel meets a stripper? Warning: drugs, language, mention of death, prostitution

Xiomara was turning 19 today. She’s been stripping since she was 18 and no this isn’t one of those “trying to get to the bag” stories. She doesn’t have a choice. Her boyfriend at the time was killed during a bad drug deal. Which left her to raise a son all on her own. Stripping pays the bills and teaching during the day allows her to save up. She’s trying to move back to the States, if she was by herself she would just pick up and go. But Ricky needed stability and daycare cost a lot in the US on top of housing.

Tonight was a big night at the strip club as the cartels are celebrating a birthday today. Ricky was with his grandma, who truly felt sorry that Xiomara had to do this. Her son passing the way he did wasn’t ideal but he made his bed and now he sleeps in it 6ft under. Xiomara still provided money to her because her late boyfriend always helped out and it was one of his last wishes. Plus she really was the only family she had.

Her stage name was Luna. She had one rule, never sleep with anybody. Her friend Chichi at the club informed her she might have to give it up for one night, cause these men pay. They were currently in the alley way grabbing some cocaine and other pills for the girls back at the strip. It helped numb the pain from the heels or whatever reason they had to do it. Spinning around on a pole looking like a fucking Barbie doll will do it to you. She never judged, she just never participated.

“Chichi dale! I don’t want the rest of the girls getting the best poles. I got stuck on the loose one in the back yesterday and almost busted ass” Xio grew impatient as they wait for the plug to pull up. She acted a certain way around these girls to blend in. During the day she was squeaky clean for the kids she taught. They waited another minute when a man showed up, his eyes meeting Xio’s immediately. She stared at him back as she watched their transaction. He looked filthy rich yet here he was making a quick buck off of women. Disgusting.

“You doing sum of this?” He looks at her and she shakes her head.

“Nah not for me.” Interesting he thought. It wasn’t for him either. Her Bambi eyes making her look innocent. She’s still a stripper after all….

“We’ll see you inside Aretas! Move ya ass Luna we’re late already!” Chichi walked as fast as she could in her heels with Xio trailing behind her.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” He calls out to her. Xio turns and salutes him.

“Thanks jefe!” Xio says before laughing to herself. To think that’s what Andres was doing before he left this earth left a sour taste in her mouth. An interaction like that cost him his life.

~~~~

The girls dove into their choice of drug before heading out on the floor. Xio touched up her lipgloss, sprayed her perfume and headed out on stage. Armando entered the strip with a group of his homies. Tonight was a night for celebration. What’s being in the cartel and committing crime if you can’t celebrate right? His mom’s escape is set for next week, so they have to blend and do their usual shenanigans which is going out. Laying low would cause some suspicions.

The girl from earlier caught his eye. She seemed pretty young to be working in the strip but then he remembered Mexico wasn’t all it was made out to be. Yes, it’s beautiful but you get caught up with the wrong crowd your future vanishes in an instant. The strip club had a scent of perfume, hookah and sweat. Not the greatest pairings. He saw Chichi his regular, they usually vibe together but tonight….he wanted her. After drinking and vibing out with his friends they all disperse to their private rooms for a dance.

“Alright lover boy. Who you picking tonight. It’s on the house.” Armando glances around as the manager of this place follows his eyes. He saw her, rotating the pole so elegantly, her eyes alone could make a man empty his pockets. He nods his head in her direction.

“Her.”

“Luna! She’s the youngest one here. Have at it pal!” Armando tensed up wanting to punch him in his shit but realized this environment comes with that type of fuckery. He walks over to her, admiring as she spins her way down from the top of the pole to the bottom. She started to dance around the pole, working her body to the beat. They both lock eyes as she walks over to him like a pretty little kitten.

“May I have a dance? Birthday boy is owed it.” She looks him up and down, taking his hand and leading him to the back. She was thinking about their interaction earlier. So the drug dealer that was outside was Aretas not some random. Well….at least the bills will be paid for months for these girls. He is what everyone says he is: handsome but those looks definitely killed.

He sits down as the music changed to Persian Rugs by PartyNextDoor. She closes the curtain, walking over to him, touching from his shoulders down to his thighs her hands slowly glided. If she was gonna go against her rules for one night it was going to be worth it. She’d rather it be him then some old fuck anyway. Turning around, she starts to give him a lap dance and he’s completely in a trance.

He’s come in here a handful of times and nothing left him satisfied, but this one she has him hooked. He hoped she was new because if he has overlooked her this entire time he’d be annoyed. Simply because she doesn’t try too much as if she’s just trying to slip under the radar. She worked her waist line and he couldn’t help but touch her as she grinds her ass against him. His hands falling on her waist, he took control, making her grinds slow and pressed up against his bulge.

You’re usually not suppose to touch, but the way his hands steered her body she didn’t want to object. His cologne and natural scent just gave off money and gave her stomach butterflies too. He made her slow down, her pussy completely pressed up on his bulge. She started to feel herself getting hot. She hasn’t been with anyone since Andres passing a year ago. What’s up with her and drug dealers anyway?!

He pulls her backwards so she’s completely laying against his chest as she starts to ride his thigh. Her body was so sensitive she could feel every movement against her clit. What the fuck is happening right now. He caresses her cheek, tilting her face to look up at him.

“Fuck mami, can I kiss you?” Their foreheads touching.

“Yes” she says breathless. Without hesitation their lips touched, Armando didn’t know what came over him tonight, but it was his birthday after all and she seem to be the only girl that didn’t throw herself at him. She turns her body around to face him. Her hands pulling his body as close as she could have him. Their bodies just melted into each other like as if they were made for this moment. Two puzzle pieces. Armando feels her shaky breaths against his lips and knew this wasn’t an occurrence on a daily basis or probably ever. Most of these strippers were numbed down to the bones yet this Bambi eyed princess has nerves.

They slowly pull away, but he holds her still. She shouldn’t be cooped up in the club and ogled at. She seemed too delicate to be working here, her skin so soft but her hands had callouses. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Get dressed, you’re coming with me.”

“I-I can’t I have to stay here or else-“

“I’ll handle it. Just get dressed for me and I’ll pick you up out back.” She agrees and heads out to the dressing room. She didn’t think she had a choice in that decision. She texted Andres’s mom letting her know that she’ll be out for the rest of the night. She changed into her cargo pants and t shirt with sneakers and heading out back.

She has no idea where this night will take her.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

Let me know your thoughts below 🤍

#jacob scipio #bad boys #armando aretas #bad boys ride or die #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas concept

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astr0n0va1 · 5 months ago

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𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟏

Hey guys this is the official part 1 of the 6 part series 𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, enjoy and feel free to reblog, and share your thoughts. - N0va 2,156 words Songs: Algo Magico By Rauw Alejandro, Mi Santa by Rauw Alejandro

*SOMEWHERE IN THE STREETS OF MIAMI

After Y/n sent Armando the location of the home he strapped his duffel bag to the backseat of his bike and got ready to start his motorcycle when he noticed a car parked not far from him.

He looked back, brushed it off, placed his helmet on, started his motorcycle, and started driving. It wasn't until he had passed 2 blocks and noticed that the car was following him. He sped up trying to lose the car, but the driver kept up. Armando saw a nearby alley and went down it to stop the car from following him.

In the alleyway, he stopped for a second and tried to call Mike, but it went to voicemail. Then he received a text from an unknown number.

"Hola Señor Aretas, nos vemos pronto. - tu flor favorita"

He blocked the number and brushed it off trying to ignore some old memories flooding into his head. There was no way it was her, there was technically no possible way of it. He took a deep breath, placed his helmet on, and made his way to his destination.

>>> Now in Downtown Miami at the getaway house*

You, Dorn, and Kelly were the first to arrive out of everyone, which you were expecting as you knew Rafe would show up later with the booze, and Armando would probably be the last one there.

As you all settled in you decided to give Dorn and Kelly the master bedroom as they were the only couple on the trip. You took the second biggest bedroom at the end of the hallway, this left the bedroom across and next to you available to Armando and Rafe.

As you set your suitcase down Dorn and Kelly came into your room.

"I'm starving." Dorn comments.

"So.." You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I do not like your attitude, Missy," Dorn responds.

"Dorn leave her alone, she hasn't gotten any in a while," Kelly said, trying to whisper the last part.

"I heard that," you said as you threw a pillow at the both of them.

"Y/n you need to put yourself more out there that's all we are trying to say," Kelly said in a sympathetic tone.

"I don't blame her have you seen the dickheads that approach Y/n, so if you ask me take your time and don't just fuck dickheads just because you're sexually frustrated and alone," Dorn advised you.

"Thanks Dorn, I will keep in mind the fact that I am sexually frustrated and alone." You said before getting up from the bed and making your way to the kitchen.

Kelly hit Dorn's head, "Asshole." She said

"What'd I do?" he said.

"LET'S GO LOVEBIRDS, DINNER ISN'T GOING TO MAKE ITSELF," you yelled from the kitchen.

As they made their way down, the door opened and Rafe made his way in with bottles of booze and a hookah.

"Why'd you bring a hookah?" You asked Rafe.

"Because we are getting lit this weekend and because of our jobs we are not allowed to get high, so we have to smoke something." He said before placing all the stuff down on the counter.

"So what should we make for dinner?" You asked.

"I don't know what we have in the fridge," Kelly said while she opened the fridge.

"Ok we have enough ingredients to make burgers which I say we save for tomorrow, or pasta for tonight," she said while taking a closer look inside.

"Ok, pasta it is." She said while pulling out some of the ingredients.

You and Kelly both started preparing things while Rafe and Dorn started setting up something on the TV and the speaker. About 20 minutes had passed and there was a knock at the door. Rafe went to answer and found Armando at the door.

"Hey man, glad you made it.” He said while letting Armando in the house.

Armando made his way into the house examining it as he walked. He made his way to the living room where he greeted Dorn who took him to the kitchen where you and Kelly were.

“Hi, Armando.” You said and went back to what you were doing.”

“Hey Y/n thanks for the invite. ” He said, placing his duffel bag down on the chair. He then saw Kelly a few inches away from you and just sent her a nod, to which responded with a small nod.

“Yeah, no problem.” You said before turning back to the stove.

“If you want, tell Rafe to take you to the rooms and by the time you’re back dinner will be served. After the dinner, Y/n can show you the house so you can get familiar with it.” Kelly said before grabbing the plates.

“Oh ok, thanks Kelly,” Armando said before making their way to Rafe so they could go upstairs.

You and Kelly served the food and put the plates on the table, and by the time you both sat down, everyone was at the table. Dinner was good. You all talked, made jokes, and laughed. After you all finished you picked up the plates from the table and then went to start the sink to start washing everything, since the kitchen was now a mess.

“Y/n I’m sorry I’m tired and so full, do you mind cleaning up by yourself,” Kelly asked you.

“It’s fine, I understand, you guys can go to bed, I got it.” You said.

She blew you a kiss and walked off with Dorn who was waiting for her at the stairs.

“Goodnight Y/n,” said Rafe as he also went upstairs.

“Night Rafe,” you responded.

As you finished loading cups and utensils into the dishwasher you felt someone next to you.

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asked.

“No, I got it.” You said.

He still grabbed a rag and started cleaning surfaces and the stove. You were surprised you didn’t think he would be like this.

“I’m kind of surprised I wasn’t expecting you to be…” He cut you off.

“Surprised of what, that I cleaned, or that I showed up?” He said with a small intrigued smile.

“Well, both 'cause I didn’t know this side of you. I don't know, it just seems more calm” You replied.

“I mean yeah everyone thinks I only know how to kill and fight,” he says.

“Fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way.” You said.

“It’s okay I understand, it’s not like I have shown the rest of my personality. So trust me, it’s ok.” He responds trying to make you feel better.

“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean it that way, it's just that when I'm nervous I tend to just speak and not think.” You explained as you loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and closed it.

“Do I make you nervous?” Armando asked as he placed the rag on a rack so it could dry.

“Yes but not for the reasons you might think.” You said.

You dried your hand and took him on a tour of the house, you showed him the pool/backyard area, the laundry room, and the small house gym it had inside. And then start to make your way to the garage.

“And this is the garage, the last place we needed to cover the whole house.” You said while guiding him in.

“It’s a nice place, I parked my bike out front. Is it okay if I bring it in here?” He asked while still examining the garage.

“Yeah of course,” you said before opening the garage door for the last spot.

He made his way out and in about 2 minutes he came back on his motorcycle. Something about him on the motorcycle made you feel hot, he noticed you staring.

“You want to take a ride?” he asked.

“Is it safe this late at night?” you respond, even though you knew you wanted to get with no doubt.

“Yeah we will be fine, let's go.” He said while offering you his helmet.

“But what will you wear?” You asked as you took the helmet in your hands.

“I’ll be fine, I'm experienced and your safety is more important anyway,” he said while starting the bike. You felt your face get hot when he said that your safety is more important. So you took the helmet put it on and hopped on behind him.

“Is it okay if I put my arms around you, I’m not sure what to hold on to?” You asked. When the words left your mouth you realized what you had just said.

“Yeah, whatever you want.” He said.

You put your arms around his waist causing your body to come into very close proximity with his. To the point where your whole body was pressed to his back and your arms were looped around his waist.

“You ready?” He asked.

You responded with a nod and he started to back up out of the garage, and into the street. Before you knew it you guys were riding around the streets of Miami, and all of it felt good. The wind, the adrenaline, and the feeling of Armando’s body close to you. He smelled amazing; it was like a woody and Ambery scent that just made you want to stay on top of him for the whole night.

Before you realized it you were both making your way back into the garage. The bike came to a stop, and you unclasped your arms from around his waist and took off the helmet.

“Thank you, that was fun,” you said before getting completely off the bike.

“Yeah anytime Princess,” he said before placing his helmet on the bike and shutting the garage door. You gave him a small nod and walked back into the house. On your way to your room, you remembered the feeling of being on the bike with him, his scent, and how he called you Princess. This caused you to smile like a little kid in a candy store.

When you made it into your room you decided to take a shower. But when you started taking your shirt off you felt his scent on your shirt, and instead of throwing it in your laundry bag, you threw it to your bed.

You took a nice hot shower washed your hair too, did your skincare, and put your hair in a towel waiting for it to dry. You put on pajamas and lay on your bed for about 30 minutes waiting for your hair to finish drying. But then until you got thirsty and decided to go get a water bottle.

You opened your door and took a peek down the hallway and noticed that the downstairs light was on. You remembered turning it off, so it had no reason to be on. You quietly made your way downstairs to the kitchen where you found Armando looking through the fridge. Before you said anything you took a moment to admire his toned arms and abs that trailed down to his lower stomach area.

You snapped out of it and finally decided to say something.

“Hey did you need something?” you asked pretending you were just now walking into the kitchen.

“Yeah I was looking for cold water but there aren’t any in here.” He replied. As soon as he said that his eyes examined your body and what you were wearing.

“I think I have a water case in my trunk. Do you mind bringing it in?” you asked.

“Yeah I can.” you then led him to the garage and grabbed your keys from the key holder to unlock your car. You could feel him staring at you, but you weren't sure if he was staring for the right reasons. But then you were wearing pajama shorts that sat on the tip of your ass, and your cropped spaghetti strap wasn’t helping but that was what you packed.

After he brings the water in and places it on the counter, you lock your car, grab a water bottle, and start walking upstairs which he follows behind you. Now you both stood in front of your room doors.

“Thank you for bringing the water in.” you spit out trying not to get distracted by his figure.

“Yeah no problem,” he said before you could turn the knob for your door.

“OK. Goodnight Armando.” You shortly replied. And before you closed your door you heard it.

“Goodnight princess,” he said before fully closing his door.

You closed your door and your face began to feel hot again, you were blushing. At that moment you realized you did have a crush on Armando. You laid on your bed replaying the moments from tonight and little by little fell asleep.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and you were going to need all the energy you had.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @cardi-bre91 @believeinthefireflies95

______________________________________________________________

Hi guys hope you guys liked it, share your thoughts and the next part might take me more time because it is longer but will be posted in the 2-3 days. <3

#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #armando x reader

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago

Text

Twin Suns

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, breakup / makeup, suggestive themes, canon-typical swearing, mando’a

Word Count: 1.4k

You broke it off, but Boba isn’t finished.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart

Hookah smoke hangs low in the air. The cantina is dim and the noise inside is a dull, persistent roar. Behind the bar, you clean glasses, gaze watching the room for thirsty customers. To the right of the bar is a small stage where a band plays music. It’s loud enough to drown out most of the conversations in the room but not enough to silence them.

It’s a stark difference from your previous work. Being a dancer in Jabba’s Palace brought you protection and money, but it also brought admirers. Most of them kept their distance due to Jabba’s presence, yet there was one you gravitated toward.

One you often snuck away with. One you gave your heart to.

Jabba the Hutt’s favorite contract killer, Boba Fett, ate you up like a Sarlacc. He slipped into your life and you gladly opened for him.

But all of that is gone. You left, and here you are, working away in a Mos Espa cantina, scrounging up enough credits to leave Tatooine behind you. It’s certainly not the life you want for yourself, but the best thing now is to earn enough to start fresh elsewhere.

Setting the glass in its proper spot, you turn, reaching for another. It draws your attention away from the bar, and when you glance up again, the glassware nearly slips from your hand.

A Mandalorian helmet with cracked and peeling green paint stares back. The rest of the armor is much of the same. It’s worn but no less intimidating. Boba Fett stands casually while the people next to him at the bar quickly grab their drinks and makes themselves scarce.

“I’ve been looking for you.” His familiar gravelly voice comes through the voice receiver, and it plunges directly into your heart.

“What makes you think I wanted to be looked for?” you reply, unease slipping into your tone.

You don’t hate Boba—far from it. Deep within your soul, you still care for him. When you’re alone in the dark, you often find yourself thinking of his touch and the way his lips felt against your skin.

But you ran away from everything for a reason. And still, this man came after you.

“You’ve always loved a chase, cyar’ika,” he answers with a gentle tease.

Memories resurface suddenly and without warning. Jabba’s smoky throne room where you’d dance for his guests. The saunter of Boba’s hips when he’d walk into the room and head right for you. The first time Boba touched you far from the eyes of Jabba and his cronies.

Boba chased you until you folded, placing yourself in his arms.

You swallow back a sharp retort, putting on your professional face, changing the subject. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Food?”

Boba’s helmeted head tilts slightly. “I want one thing.”

“I’m not on offer,” you reply immediately.

“Then can I have a few minutes of your time,” he counters. “Alone.”

Kriffing hell.

You glance over your shoulder at the other bartender. She nods subtly and you set down the glass and polishing towel.

“Come with me,” you murmur.

Boba pushes off from the bar and follows you. The two of you slip behind a curtain, entering a kitchen space. The three droid cooks don’t even acknowledge your presence. Stopping at some spiral stairs, you turn back toward Boba. He’s directly behind you, blocking your escape, gloved hands on either side of the railing.

“This way,” you breathe, ascending the stairs as quickly as possible.

You feel him at your back, his body so close you swear you can sense his heat. The stairs spit the two of you out on a little landing. Up here is mostly storage, and it’s a mess. The owner of the cantina insists he’ll clean it up but he’s never here enough to actually care or do anything about it.

As soon are your feet land on flat flooring, you beeline for the large window on the other side of the room. The twin suns are starting to descend, the evening coming quick, but still fending off the cold dark.

Staring out across Mos Espa is easier than looking at Boba directly.

“What do you want to talk about?” you speak to the window. In the glass, you notice Boba’s reflection. He’s moving toward you—a slow saunter.

Even though you cannot see him directly, you know he’s right there next to your left shoulder. Your chest is tight, stomach twisting, and your skin tingles with awareness. Beskar brushes against your arm, and then Boba’s gloved hand slips into your own.

You do not pull away. He is warm, and so close it aches.

“You were mine,” he says, and the possessiveness in his voice draws forth a shiver.

It’s a reminder of all the times the two of you were alone in bed together, with him buried between your legs, tangled up in white sheets while the rest of Tatooine slept. With every roll of his hips, and every languid kiss, he’d call you cyar’ika and whisper mine.

“I was,” you murmur. “Not anymore.”

Boba tugs on your hand. It’s a gentle pull but it forces you to turn into him. Boba is right there, head tilted toward your face as if to kiss you. His other hand comes up and rests against the side of your throat.

“You left without talking to me.” His grip tightens and your free hand reflexively rises, pressing against his beskar chestplate.

You lick your lips. “I needed to go. It wasn’t safe for me.”

Boba draws you close, foreheads nearly touching. “Did you not feel safe with me? Something I did?”

You shake your head. “No.” You glance into the T-shaped visor, only wanting to see those dark eyes again. “Can you remove your helmet?”

Boba drops his hand from your throat. Reaching up, he disengages the seal, and then the helmet is gone. Your eyes track tanned skin and dark eyes. Your hand on his chestplate ascends, fingertips brushing against the stubble on his chin and jaw.

Boba turns his head just as you’re about to run your fingers over his cheeks. You caress his lips instead, and they part slightly in invitation. It’s hard to resist, but you do.

Dropping your hand away, you look down at his chestplate.

“Being with you put a target on my back.”

“No one knew about us,” murmurs Boba. “And I would have handled it.”

You glance up. “Would you? I was under Jabba’s employ. I don’t think he’d appreciate one of his dancers fornicating with his prized bounty hunter.”

Boba grimaces. “You were an employee. Not one of his slaves.”

“That doesn’t matter to Jabba,” you insist. “Remember the guy who slapped my ass? Jabba took his kriffing hand. I don’t even want to think about what Jabba would do to you had he found out about us.”

“And you think you’re safe here?” Boba indicates the cantina with an outstretched hand.

“Bib Fortuna said I was clear. It’s the other bounty hunters I’m worried about. Your competition.”

Boba scoffs. “I’d vaporize them before they even tried to put their hands on you.”

You pull your hand from his and raise them up before you. “You can’t protect me, Boba. And I don’t want to burden you.”

Boba steps into your space, trapping you against the window. “But you still love me.”

“I never said I didn’t,” you reply softly.

With a low groan, Boba grasps the back of your neck and draws you in. His mouth crashes against yours, the two of you meeting again and again until you start to melt, wrapping your arms behind his neck, wanting him even closer.

“Why did you run?” he asks between kisses. You seek another but Boba’s grip on the back of your neck halts all forward movement. “We could have talked about this. You didn’t need to flee.”

“It was easier,” you breathe.

He shakes his head. “You’re leaving this place.”

“Boba,” you breathe.

“Hush,” he coos. “I’m taking you with me.”

“And go where?” you shrug.

“Somewhere safe,” he says softly. “We’ll go on my ship. And I’ll take you far from here.”

“But you can’t tell me where?”

Boba sighs. “I have a place I go to when I want to get away. I’ll take you there.”

“Jabba doesn’t need you?”

“If he needs me, Bib Fortuna will call. That’s how it’s always worked.”

You glance out the window. The suns have lowered, the sky a purplish-red. “When do you want to go?”

Boba draws you back to him, pressing a lovely kiss to your lips. “Right now.”

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