#i appreciate you setting me straight though
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rinnstars · 2 days ago
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jealousy jealousy!
when hes just a little (very) jealous of someone else
bllk boys (nagi, rin, reo) x reader: insecurities, fluff!!!!!!!, established r/s except for rin (but you two get into one by the end!), nagis part was deleted and rewritten TT, not proof read + likes n reblog r appreciated <3
nagi seishiro:
“eh… you cleared this level already…? i thought you were struggling with it..?” nagi’s voice muffled against the pile of blankets his face was smushed in, looking up at you confusedly from your phone, displaying the game level cleared.
its not that he doesnt believe you cleared it all by yourself, if anything youre pretty good at this game despite only playing it for him. its simply because you were complaining on call with him about it, and all of the sudden youve finished it? he doesnt quite believe it, hes gone through that level too and he knows its pretty challenging, taking a little more energy than it really should have even for nagi himself.
“ah.. my seatmate cleared it for me this morning when he saw me playing it!” its strange: your bright voice always wakes him up a little, bringing light into his otherwise dull and boring life. yet this time, he feels his heart pang a little.
its troublesome. he doesnt like feeling this way: his heart tightens at your words, he unconsciously grips your phone a little, only realising when the screen protector cuts him a little, and he feels as though hes getting all fired up strangely the same way he gets on the field. if anything, nagi doesnt even know who this mysterious seat partner is, and he sure doesnt want to know: its troublesome to socialise with others after all. and yet, if there’s anything he’s now set on doing as though his life depends on it, as though your relationship with him depends on it, as though his ego depends completely on this: he wants to confront this guy and challenge him in an actual game competition. he knows he’ll win, he has spent his entire life in bed playing mobile game or spending late hours of the night on grinding back to immortal on different variety of games from valorant to league of legends to overwatch. he’s covered his grounds he thinks, that maybe all those time wasn’t wasted at all other than the fact that you weren’t with him during those time: lending him your lap to lie down on when he plays his switch or phone, lending him your support when you sit on his lap on his chair squirming to keep it a challenge to win and carry his team still, even more lending him your accounts when he plays with you, helping carry you in any game you want or even just building your islands together on animal crossing or minecraft on more chill days.
nagi doesn’t get it - really, its the same ego that drives him in football, not wanting to lose. his eyes flicker with sudden fire and intensity that only burns whenever he plays games with you: whether that be when you die in a pvp game and him immediately straightening his back to avenge you, earning aces for rounds straight until the screen flashes with victory, or when someone talks bad about you in the voice channel and is immediately reacted with nagi’s voice that defends your honour as if he’s your knight in shining armour, or even simply the way his hands click on the mouse quickly whenever he sees a zombie go near you in the dark cave whilst playing something as chill as minecraft. if anything, nagi think it might just apply to real life too: his hands tugging at yours as though on instinct in record speed when you trip on another branch to prevent you from falling, his glare at others whenever they bother you too much that is visible through the awkward smile you give and your hands finding its way to fiddle with his shirt.
and the same ego is clear to him now: he doesn’t want anyone else to be yours, he wants to be the only one to help you. selfish maybe, but he’ll deliver - the way he tracks your figure in the map from valorant to minecraft to even genshin, the way he fights to protect you from the enemies, his hands animatedly clicking at his mouse and the other navigating his keyboard all at the same time in order to garner the best and most successful result that he knows will get you to smile oh so brightly that makes his heart pound, or even the way he charges his old switch just to help you play animal crossing on his own account, maintaining your village and neglecting his all to make a cute little house for you inspired by your pinterest board even though it takes him all night.
and to you, its clear: he’s upset at what you’ve done with the way he deflates even more than he already is. and it clicks. a routine and cycle you’ve unintentionally broken - you complaining about a level or rank you can’t get out of, he’ll listen and ask you about it the next day when youre back at his house, and he’ll fix it just as he always down: an unspoken agreement really.
“sorry sei… i still can’t clear the next level.. help me seiiii…” and suddenly he’s back lying right on your pillowy thighs: the way his eyes that was just seconds ago filled with intensity that you think simply doesn’t fit his face closes with comfort as you massage his scalp again with his fingers, the way his face smushes against your thighs comfortably rather than the weird feeling of him hovering on your thigh as though he wanted to get up, the way his hands no longer grip your phone tightly and instead holds your hand, fitting it right in perfectly.
“kay… its not bothersome with you..” he says, a confession of love from himself. he’ll never find it annoying if its you: he thinks he would play the dinosaur game from having no internet for hours on end if you liked watching him play it, he thinks he’d fight against the same boss for even days straight if you said you needed the materials for it for your character, and he knows he will most definitely help you finish any level you can’t. and something he wont say, a quiet confession springs in his mind: he loves you and most definitely he loves to play for you. and based on you willingly passing him your phone, maybe, just maybe, he wont give in to his impulses and actually find that guy - only shooting daggers at him that sends a shiver down his spine when he waits outside your class for you to release after school.
rin itoshi:
its not the first time rin felt this pang in his chest: he felt it when his older brother kicks the ball to any other member of the football team to shoot for the goal, he felt it when his teammates seems to be able to shoot he ball even more accurately than he does, he felt it when his brother praised yoichi instead of him. he’s always regarded that feeling as something football related: he’s never felt too much emotions outside of his passion and hobbies either way - but lately, he thinks he feels it a lot whenever he’s with you. perhaps, the seed from before blue lock has started blooming: the day you boarded the bus with him to the facility that was hours away from yours and his house that made his cheeks stain with pink as he sits right beside you, eating the filling breakfast you made for him, beaming at him so brightly as you wave him goodbye that makes him hesitate for the first time in his life.
and right now, he doesn’t get it. its not like there’s a lack of chocolates at his desk, if anything its quite the opposite. there’s practically a mountain of chocolates of different variety that would surely fulfill his secret sweet tooth - from dark chocolate in a heart shape mold bought from a fancy shop, from milk chocolates in squares sprinkled with heart shaped sweet bits on top, or even strawberries dipped in white chocolate. and yet, if looks could kill, that guy who’s holding YOUR chocolate box would have died, guts spilled right on the classroom door like those cliche horror games he plays. rin doesn’t get it: its not as if youre close witht that guy,youre his seat partner for all the years you’ve spent together since kindergarten, and he’s sure that that guys no one special right? and its out of character when rin thinks harder about a nobody in his class: do you like band kids like that lame guy? (he did learn the guitar for fun when he was younger, should bring it out from under his bed again?) do you like guys who are a little better at math? (maybe he should study for this weeks math quiz he thinks) or do you like guys who have leadership roles? (he’ll ask to be captain of the football team, its obvious anyways, he’s the best in this dull football club in his school)
usually, when he feels this same pang in his chest, he ignores it, keep mum about it and just work harder instead until the glass shards leave his heart - and yet he can’t do that strangely despite the routine between you two staying: where you and him sit together at the back of the class, playing your phone at the back oops the class unbeknownst to the teacher, giggling and whispering about whatever, your feet kicking his occasionally from the lack of distance that makes his face a little pink. yet, here he is eyeing that last chocolate underneath your table, its unlike the others he noted - unlike the mini chocolate cup you passed to that guy who he wishes to punch simply because of the smug smirk that was plastered on his face, unlike the small chocolate bars you presented to the other girls in the class, and even more special definitely from the chocolate candies you sneak into both his and yours mouth during class. its heart-shaped, reminiscent of the other chocolate now angrily thrown into one plastic bag that he plans to eat whilst crying about this the second he reaches home, a ribbon tied messily clearly with much effort too, and even pasted mini heart papers.
and its not until recess when youre alone with rin in class as per routine, everyone leaving for lunch does he do something about it for the first time in his life about this nagging and tugging feeling that makes him feel like a little kid again. and it just might have been the universe way of telling the two of you how connected you two are: as you struggle to find the courage to give him the slightly burnt chocolate brownies inside the heart shaped box.
“i.. like you.” “f-for you rin..!”
its simultaneous, at the exact same time, where the clock struck 1:00pm.
the confession he’s kept all these years, since the first day he’s met you at kindergarten where you two practically were fixed at the hips ever since: seat partners since primary school all the way up until now where youre both now seventeen and about to go to university and him to become a professional football player soon. ten years - ten years of looking at you as if he’s so far away when youre with anyone but him as he feels the friendship bracelet around his wrist for reassurance, ten years of writing confession letters after confession letters and poetries only to rip them all apart, yelling into his pillow and kicking his feet like a maiden in love, ten years of looking at you pass chocolates every single time during valentines except to him. its unlike rin, he’s never been good at expressing himself, believing in action over words - the way he carries your files and extra bags after school, the way he always listens and remembers what you say and even buy things you’ve mentioned offhandedly with his own pocket money, the way he never hesitates to carry you back home even when his leg is all jelly from football practice that he doesn’t tell you.
and its the same for you. the valentine gift you’ve made for him all these years: spanning from chocolate chip cookies you’ve made, to macrons you bought for him from his favourite bakery, or even his favourite blueberry pie your mother bought you - and yet all left underneath the table, secretly placed back in your bag for you to eat it whilst crying about your cowardice. and you hate it: these ten years of watching him carry a plastic bag full of physical confessions without any interest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even when youre staying over and opening a pack of these chocolates when you’re hungry, these ten years of looking bitterly at the friendship bracelet that is nothing more than a bitter reminder of how you’ll never be more because of your own cowardice, these ten years of looking at rin accept everyone’s chocolates but yours.
and for the first time in years, rin thinks it’s just right - when he places his lips on yours, melting into this sweet kiss with the brownie in his mouth. and he thinks you might just taste sweeter than the brownie melting between the two of yours mouth.
reo mikage:
he doesn’t get this tight feeling wrapping like thorns around his heart - seeing you so close with a classmate, smiling as he seems to be teaching you something through the windows of your classroom. it’s clearly not the exhaustion from climbing all the way from his class at the first level to yours at the fourth with this being the millionth time hes done this like a instinct every time the bell rings, its not the way your hands seems to linger so close to his practically touching someone’s else hands that gets reo sweating cold beads of sweat down his neck, and its not jealousy at how someone else might just be better than him. realistically he knows, you’re probably just having difficulties in your academics, a normal human thing but he can’t help the bitter bile that rises to his mouth - he can teach you too evident from the library dates where he helps you go through your homework and teach you the same concepts like hes made for it and hes definitely better than that classmate right? hes smarter, he tops the class every single exam without fail with his name always plastered on the results sheet as number one, he’s much more charming he would like to believe with your smile always reaching your eyes that he adores, and he’s much more useful with the way he can teach you whilst helping you with other things like while buying you food on his phone, fixing your broken pens, or something. he swallows the bitter bile, walking into the practically empty class with just you and that.. classmate, scruntising his every detail in his mind all whilst putting on the charming facade hes too used to having on - one that you can tell by the furrowing of your eyebrows at him as he grabs a chair and slides it beside you as though looking at your homework.
“haven’t i taught you this before?” its petty, he knows, its quite literally a new chapter, one that he knows your class just started on. but he thinks it does the job when he sees your classmate suddenly feel uncomfortable - perhaps its the tone of his voice that underlies irritation clearly meant for him, perhaps its the subtle passive aggressive smile aimed at him, or perhaps its the intimidation of having reo mikage right next to you clearly upset with you. he doesn’t really enjoy the title placed on him, if anything sometimes he loathes the reputation that comes with his family name, with people looking at him as only that and never as reo - but just this time does he thank the stars for his luck.
“huh?” he can tell, youre confused, and he thinks youre just so oblivious or maybe hes just weirdly jealous of something so insignificant that even your brain can’t comprehend him at all. but he doesn’t mind it as he glanced sideways at your classmate - awkwardly and quickly packing his bag, leaving just you and reo sitting at your desk.
and its awkward silence, with him looking at your homework that he just received just an hour ago and hasn’t started on too, and you looking confused at him. its not unfamiliar to see reo in your class, its practically routine at this point, except he usually just stands outside until youre done with packing your bag, taking it right from your hands the second you step out of your class.
“so.. who was that?” he cant help the way his voice suddenly sounds so soft, as though its about to crack, as if hes about to cry. he tries to clear his throat to even it out, and even so, he definitely sounded a little too out of character - out of character for how he presents himself: nothing short of perfect. and he knows youve caught it, the cats out of the bag, when he sees the sides of your mouth tug up a little as you zip your bag.
“just a classmate reo really…” your voice a little teasing, looking at him knowingly, as his hands tug at your bag, slinging it around his right shoulder where it should belong. and he thinks its alright: the way you ruffle his hair that feels just so right that he leans in even closer and even bends down a little like a dog desperate for a pat, the way you beam at him that he knows is meant only for him that shifts the rest of your class to be nothing more than just a blur, the way your bag fits snugly on his shoulder as it was meant to be.
“yeah? it better be!~” he chirps, jealousy no longer gripping onto him like a chain tugging at his neck, reminiscent of the feeling he feels in his stuffy and restrictive home. and he knows it’ll be that way until the end of time: the way your hands tugs at his tightly as though you never want to let go either, the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world, the way you understand him even through a few words. soulmates, maybe, and perhaps he has no reasons to ever feel this bitter feeling that burns his throat.
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cj-theyoungling · 2 days ago
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Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
cw : injuries ig. Idk man
synopsis : You decide to surprise Jason by coming home early to visit but he surprises you instead.
author's note : I've never written for the Batfam so if this is OOC I'm so sorry. I've been obsessed with them recently though.
"Jason!" You call across the foyer as you enter the Wayne mansion. You hang your jacket on the coat rack and smile at Alfred who enters the room.
"Good evening ma'am." He says, moving to grab your bag from you and hang it up.
"Good evening to you too Alfred." You greet him, "Is Jason here?"
"Master Todd is in his room." He informs you
"Thank you Alfred." You start up the stairs before turning to face Alfred again, "Oh I almost forgot. Here's the cookie recipe I promised you last time I was here."
"Much appreciated ma'am. Glad to see you back." He takes the card from your hands and then walks out to the kitchen.
You make your way to Jason's room and knock on the door. When the door creaks open and Damian peeks his head out.
"Where's Jason?" You ask in confusion, trying to open the door. Damian shoves his body weight against the door, preventing you from opening it further so you can't see inside.
"He's on patrol." Damian replies quickly, still trying to push the door shut.
"Alfred said he was here." You say to the younger boy and press your back against the door so you can shove your weight against it too.
"Well he's not." Damian struggles against the force of you pushing against the door.
"If he's not here then why are you in his room?" You question, shoving the door a bit more open, you chuckle at the intensity of Damian who is using all of his body weight to try and keep the door from opening. You're honestly surprised he hasn't started pulling out gadgets to aid him.
"No reason." You hear the tell-tale lift of his voice that tells you he's lying to you. With one more shove against the door you finally stumble into the room , barely keeping on your feet. You stand up straight and catch sight of Jason in the bathroom, picking glass shards out of his side with tweezers.
"Nothing to see here. Get moving." Damian says pushing you towards the door.
"It's fine Dams. You can go." Jason finally speaks up.
Damian huffs and walks out of the room. You close the door behind him and walk to the bathroom in front of Jason. You carefully take the tweezers out of his hands and take over picking the glass out of his side and chest.
"What happened?" You ask quietly.
"I fell out of a window." He explains, his hand comes to hold your wrist and pin it against his chest. You eyes trail up from where you were working to his eyes.
"Weren't you wearing body armor or something?" You ask, worry laced in your voice.
"I was caught off guard. i was just stopping a mugging on my way home."
"Why didn't you call a doctor? Or at least ask someone for help." He ignores your question and presses his lips to your forehead, "Jason," You begin again, he cuts you off with another kiss, this time to your lips.
His free hand cradles the side of your face so he can deepen the kiss. He pulls away with a smile, "I missed you sweetheart." he murmurs.
"I missed you too Jason. Let me finish cleaning you up." You insist. he let's go of your wrist and let's you finish cleaning and wrapping up his cuts.
The second you finish up your work his hands reach under your thighs to lift you up against him.
"How's college been sweetheart?" he asks between kisses.
"It's a lot better than Gotham State." You giggle.
"Mhm." He mumbles into your neck, setting you on the bed and pressing kisses to the crook of you neck while holding you tightly.
"The city hasn't gotten much better I see." You giggle. The two of you cuddle up on his bed, your head resting on his chest as he plays with your hair.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" He asks
"I wanted to surprise you." You smile and press a kiss to his lips.
"I love you." he says against your skin.
"I love you too."
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hesperisms · 7 hours ago
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helluuu~ first off all - I love your writing! U write incredibly well and I love how you characterize Zayne and Sylus (anything u write shall be canon to me🧎🏻‍♀️🛐)
second off all, a slightly more specific request, bc I just recently saw a really cute set of nipple clips and a small buttplug that had matching pink bows on everything ahhh
How would Sylus and Zayne react coming home to reader waiting for them on the bed like that, wanting to surprise them and spice things up? (Especially with how u wrote in your Zanye ABC that he probably wouldn’t be into anything anal, but I’d guess that this wouldn’t be something he’d outright say before it comes up and reader obviously didn’t know)
// Mixed Messages
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"Is this one of your tricks again? I didn't say I wouldn't look..."
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// summary: a double imagine! how Sylus and Zayne would react to you surprising them with some cute kinky toys.
// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), toys, bondage, fluff, dominance, embarassment, shame, kink, nipple play, finger stimulation, vaginal sex, THE IMPLICATION
// a/n: oh stawwwp you're gonna make me blush anon! I'm so glad you love my writing, I hope this lives up to your expectations!
likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!
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It arrived the morning he was due to get back from his conference in Chansia City and you'd been staring at it in the little velvet baggie it came in as you sprawled out on Zayne's bed, inhaling the scent of him from his pillows. Your pulse quickened as you played with the smooth cold weight of it, hearing the clinking muffled by the luxurious fabric. The stage was set for your surprise.
"I'm sorry Zaynie I've been called to work, I can't meet you at the airport like I planned to. I promise I'll come straight over at 3 when I'm done?"
"Alright," came the soft reply down the line, a hint of anticipation in his tone. "Don't be too late though, I'm bringing you home a surprise."
"I'll be there with bows on!"
You giggled with a conspiratorial rush as you hung up the phone - you hadn't lied to him, technically correct was still correct after all - you would be there with bows on, they just happened to be bows on a matching set of a little buttplug and nipple clamps.
Having spent the morning picking out one of the cute sets of lingerie that Zayne had bought for you, you'd settled on a baby pink gingham print teddy, deciding the cute soft pink matched the naughtiness of the toys well. Slipping the stainless steel plug out of the velvet bag, you took the lube from his nightstand and slipped it in. You only had a about half an hour before he was due to get home and you wanted to be ready for him.
His key turned in the lock right as you were slipping on the matching nipple clamps and you let out a loud moan of anticipation. You clapped your hand over your mouth, holding your breath in the hopes you hadn't given away your presence. Damnit, you thought as you heard his travel case hit the floor with a loud thud and confident footsteps clicked down the hallway towards you. You had been caught.
"This is one of your tricks again?" The mirth shines in his soft voice as he steps into the bedroom, looking you up and down appreciatively. As you blush and turn away coyly, he chuckles and reaches out to cup your chin, bending over to kiss you. "I didn't say I wouldn't look."
Zayne takes his jacket off and tosses it onto the chair near the window, tugging his tie loose and unbuttoning his top two buttons before he settles onto the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He reaches out to you, sighing that he missed you as he pulls you into his lap. You gasp as the steel plug clinks against the metal of his belt buckle and he's so confused his head tilts.
Holding your hips in his firm hands, he pulls you up off his lap and then puts you back down on it, listening again to the metallic CLINK as the toy pings against the buckle. "Y/N...what did you do?" he asks in a dangerous low whisper, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Play wrestling you out of the teddy to inspect your body, he tugs it down from your breasts roughly while he tickles you in his lap and there's a little stereo set of PLINK PLINK sounds as the nipple clamps snap off your sensitive buds and you cry out a loud needy moan.
Zayne's eyes widen in shock, looking down at the little sliver clamps with their petite pink enamel bowties, rolling them in his fingers as his brain puts together your line from the morning's call. "Be there with bows on, hmm?" he says with his lips curling into a smirk of understanding. He looks down at your nipples, red and swollen, flushed full of blood and clicks his tongue at you. "Do you want me to kiss them better?"
He doesn't wait for your answer, his mouth greedily wrapping around your nipple and sucking tightly, swirling his tongue playfully across it as his other hand travels down your hip and around the curve of your ass. He's moaning against your delicate bud in his lips, lapping at it and licking wet sloppy kisses all over it when his fingertips on your backside hit metal and he stops mid-suckle.
"Wh-What did you do?" he mumbles against your breast, his mouth pulling back from you, a string of saliva hanging between his lip and your nipple as he tilts his head up to look at you suspiciously. "Is that what I think that is...?" he asks, his tone a mix of apprehension and curiosity.
Zayne flips you off his lap and onto your back beside him on the bed and starts tugging the bottom half of the teddy off you, your legs up in the air over his shoulder as he untangles the lingerie from your ankles and that's when he finally sees it; the stainless steel plug, nestled snuggly into your ass, twitching with your quivers of anticipation and you see his brain buffer as he tries to comprehend the situation. A deep crimson flush has surged its way up his ears.
"My love..." Zayne begins with an exasperated sigh, one hand rubbing your legs up over his shoulder, the other pinching his brow as he winces. The air hangs heavy between you two for a moment.
"Surprise?" you giggle awkwardly, your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and you bite your lip as you hold your breath, realizing that he doesn't seem as into it as you'd hoped he would be. You cover your eyes with your hands, not wanting to see disappointment on his face and that's when he sighs again, reaching down to pull your hands away from your face.
"I appreciate the gesture, my love..." Zayne starts to collect his thoughts, wanting to reassure you that you haven't done anything wrong, while also cementing what he had thought was an unspoken boundary with you. "But this...this is not for me." Your eyes start to well with embarrassed tears and he quickly wipes them away, shaking his head at you with a gentle smile, his golden-green eyes gazing at you adoringly. "My favorite place to be in the whole wide world is an inch away from this," he emphasizes the last word with a tap on the plug, then strokes his fingertips delicately through your wet folds lovingly. "...so I don't need anything else but that, okay?"
You bite your lip and nod up at him, sucking in a deep breath before giving him a blushing smile.
"There's my good girl," Zayne coos at you with a smile, stroking your glistening pussy and nipping kisses against your ankle. He rocks back onto his heels, releasing your legs. "Do you want to go take that out while I strip off? I'm feeling very overdressed compared to you." He gives your backside a gentle pat and watches you waddle towards the ensuite with a chuckle and a shake of his head.
"Oh and Y/n?" Zayne calls after you and you pause, turning back to him and tilting you head questioningly.
"On your way back, grab the little ringbox out of my luggage won't you? We can't forget about your surprise..." He smirks.
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"Sweetie," Sylus drawled smugly, swinging the little velvet bag by it's loops around his long index finger like a lasso. "You know nothing can be hidden from me inside my own home. In fact," he looks down at you with a wicked smirk on his face, crimson eyes full of mischief, "I'm impressed you bought it from a store in person instead of having it delivered online. It seems my kitten is getting bolder the more time she spends with me."
"You could've at least pretended!" you pout with a huff, elbowing him in the ribs and he laughs warmly, handing the pouch back to you. "It was supposed to be a surprise but now you've ruined it."
Sylus' eyes light up with love at your grumpy little pout and he strokes your hair affectionately, cooing to you. "Don't be mad at me y/n, it's my nature to know all comings and goings in my circles. I tell you what," he says, shifting your weight off him and getting up out of bed. "I'm going to go check on some transactions, when I come back in about ten minutes this whole conversation never happened and I promise to be very surprised. Deal?"
"Okay, deal."
When Sylus slipped back into the room ten minutes later just as he'd promised, he let out an appreciative growl at the sight that waited for him.
You were bent over, hands splayed out flat on his expensive silk sheets, legs shoulder width apart and locked straight so your ass was in the air towards the door. You were completely naked, save for the steel buttplug with the little pink enameled bow on it, and the matching nipple clamps that were making your chest flush and your buds ache.
"My my," Sylus murmurs seductively, trailing his fingertips up the back of your thigh and watching you shiver under his touch. "You know I normally prefer to unwrap my own presents, but I won't complain when my gift looks this succulent.." His hand reaches the curve of your backside and he gives it a firm squeeze, his strong fingers digging into your flesh possessively and he smiles when you let out a needy little moan.
He leans down to take a closer look at the plug, his hot breath fanning across the backs of your thighs and your heat as he clicks his tongue appreciatively. "It seems I was mistaken," he teases in a sultry chuckle, a tinge of huskiness to his tone that makes your walls ache with longing. "My present has a bow on it after all."
You gasp as he suddenly presses on the plug and swipes a slow finger through your aching folds, bringing his finger up to his lip to suck it. "Tastes good too." Sylus purrs, licking his lips, watching as you clench at nothing.
Sylus stands behind you, his right hand slipping through your rapidly soaking folds, as his other hand strokes down your back like he's petting a cat. You moan and press back against his hand and he lets out an exhaling growl. "So needy kitten," he teases in a dangerous whisper. "Are you trying to say you want more?"
You whimper and moan as he starts to slip his fingers into you, teasing your entrance and you clench greedily, trying to draw him in. "Please Sylus..." you whine at him and he laughs, his fingers hooking in and pressing deeply on your front wall and your moans get louder. As his fingers stroke deeply, confidently and your arousal surges you feel his erection pressing into your hip. He slips his fingers out of you and presses his thumb down on the plug, rotating it in slow circles and pressing it into you deeper as his fingers slide down through your wetness to press on your clit.
Right when you're about to orgasm, he lets you go and moves behind you, grinding his hips into you and reaching down over your ribs to cup your breasts, pulling you up against his chest. You pout at being edged and he leans down to kiss you passionately as you whine against his lips, head tilted back against his chest, a deep arch in your spine. He rubs your breasts and squeezes them in his strong palms, unclipping the clamps and your breath catches in your throat at the relief. He tosses the clips onto the bedside table and rubs slow circles on your nipples, his predatory gaze staring down at you before he releases you.
"Hands back down on the bed Sweetie," he commands. "And keep them there." You shiver in anticipation and do as he tells you to, palms flat, pressing your ass up against his twitching erection. Sylus smirks and pulls back from you to give himself space to stroke the head through your folds and he groans at how inviting your heat feels. Pressing himself into you, he starts to inch in, letting you settle and adjust to his size as he moves inside you.
"You always feel so good Y/n." He praises as he bottoms out against your cervix, hands roaming appreciative massaging patterns on your hips. Sylus grips you tightly and starts thrusting and you cry out in pleasure, the lewd sounds of him slapping into your wet walls echoing in the room sinfully. The noises that are coming out of you drive him wild and he slides his hands up from your hips to cup your breasts, pressing his chest down against your back, rutting into you. Sylus hot breath fans out over the back of your neck as he lets out heavy panting moans.
Feeling you clench and tighten around him as your heat builds desperately and your moaning gets louder, Sylus thrusts harder, his hips slamming both himself and the plug deeper into you and he bites down on your neck, moaning into it with a lick. "You can, go on, do it...let me feel you fall apart." he whispers wickedly into the back of your neck as your tightly wound heat snaps and you buck underneath him, the orgasm ripping through you making your walls grip him tightly as your thighs shake unsteadily. Sylus lifts himself off you to throw his head back and lets out a deep guttural moan, joining you; the last of your waves of rippling pleasure meeting his hitching thrusts as he tries in vain to keep pace while he fills you.
Sylus looks down at your sweating, quivering back below him and reaches down to pull you towards him, nuzzling into your neck as you stand up, letting out a moan at the ache deep in your thighs and your lower back from the position. He wraps his arms around you possessively, cuddling you back against his chest as he catches his breath, his panting flooding your ears. "I liked your surprise, Kitten..." he says with a breathless chuckle. "We should let you surprise me more often."
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haveihitanerve · 19 hours ago
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Had an idea but I forgor it so here's a different one
Bruce Wayne, concussed and on several strong painkillers, socializing with socialites from outside Gotham. They ask him about his kids and joke about how they all look so similar to him.
His brain, moving at about 3mph, does not register that his kids were ADOPTED (safe for one) and answers their questions as if he gave birth to them, forgetting he also doesn't have the facilities for that (unless you want him to- we love old trans people)
"Master Bruce I really must insist-" Alfred tried for the fourth time in seven minutes, Bruce had counted, reaching to push him back to bed and pull off the suit jacket he had only moments before helped Bruce put on.
"'M going Alf." Bruce grumbled back, rubbing a bleary hand over his eyes. "There's no use in putting it off. Don't have a good excuse and.." He grimaced. "They need to see me. It's been a while."
Alfred opened his mouth to protest again, even going so far as to move in front of the door to block his exit. "You are on far too many medications Mr. Wayne, not to mention a concussion! You simply cannot."
Bruce's lips twitched it amusement. It was a rare day when Alfred's composure was rattled to the point of calling him Mr. Wayne, and while Alfred was admittedly very strong, there was no way his physical blockation of Bruce's path would actually stop him.
"Alf." Bruce began gently, and the butler scoffed, rolling his eyes as he moved out of the way, striding down the long hallway. "Well. I see my advice isn't heeded. As always."
Bruce threw him an apologetic smile, heading for the main door. "Love ya Alfie!!" The butler snorted, but Bruce could tell he was softening.
"Call if you need boy." Alfred murmured. Bruce grinned, offering a wink as he pulled the door open. "I will." He promised, sliding into the backseat of his limousine, heading to the Gala.
He hissed as the needle broke his skin, biting his lip to prevent any further sounds as the anti-biotic worked its way into his system. Alfred would most definitely have protested its use, especially as Bruce tossed back a handful of other added painkillers, but if he was being honest, he needed them to get through the night.
"Thanks Hank. Tell your wife I said hi and grab her a bouquet on your way home. On me." He patted his driver's shoulder as he climbed out. Hank grinned, tipping his black cap.
"You always make me seem like such a good husband Mr. Wayne, I appreciate it. Have a good night." Bruce grinned back, stumbling slightly as he moved towards the doors, using the car to stabilize himself.
"You give me too much credit, send your boys some love and you have tomorrow off, try to actually use that baseball glove I gifted you." Hank chortled, setting the car into drive. "Will do sir. Good night." Bruce nodded the same back, watching until the car pulled away fully to stumble up the steps.
"Maybe those pills weren't such a good idea." He mumbled to himself as he made it to the doors, pulling them open to walk inside, heading straight for the table laid out with food. Of course, one couldn't enter a Gala without greeting the hosts, and he barely made it two steps before he was intercepted.
"Mrs. and Mr. Ketch. How lovely to see you." Bruce offered a bow, bending too low before rocking back upwards. Mrs. Ketch was smiling at him, a lovely, true smile that Bruce noticed tended to happen whenever he greeted the woman first instead of the man. Mr. Ketch was frowning, but more at Bruce's bizarre drunken act than any offense towards being placed after his wife.
"Are you alright, Wayne?" He asked, and Bruce hated that he actually liked the Ketch's, because there was genuine concern in the mans voice. Another reason why he had come.
The Ketch's were new money, self made, and trying to blend in with the old elites, though Bruce had to admit they never would, they were just too good, too kind, too sincere.
He wondered, dimly, in the back of his foggy, drug addled mind, if perhaps they'd finally tire of all the snide comments, rude looks, sneers, and give up on their well meaning charity that they had chosen Gotham for. He hoped they wouldn't. He liked having actual good conversation at these dull events.
"M fine, truly." Bruce answered, a few seconds too late, smiling lazily. "Might've had a few." He tried his best imitation at a drunken smile, wincing as he realized it was dangerously close to how he really felt.. tipsy. Off balance.
Robert, because that was his name, he had told Bruce his first name instead of demanding he call him Mr., frowned a little in concern, and before he knew it they had herded him to one of the seating places, settling down by him.
"How're the kids?" Mrs. Ketch asked, handing him a glass of water that Bruce gratefully accepted. "Amazing." He answered. "Splendid. They're always doing so well. They don't see it though." He frowned at his glass, wondering why that was.
"They're so amazing though. It just doesn't make any sense," He sat up, leaning forward to look at the couple in front of him intensely. They both had their eyebrows raised in surprise, but leaned forward in tandem, intruiged.
"Because see, they're so brilliant, and lovely, and smart, really I think they're the smartest people in the world- like ever. And Dickie, he's so kind and sweet and nice, and he's got a few problems and I'm sorry about it but he's really just amazing and an all around good person, I really oughtta try and be more like him, and oh he's got my eyes, im so glad he got my eyes, but i love his nose too, its nothing like mine- anyway Jason too- whoo he got my height im so happy for him- he also has my eyes! they all have my eyes actually, except cass, and damian, but like he's so brilliant and smart and he was such a good kid, he is now too- oh he doesn't like me calling him kid, but he'll always be my baby, and oh i cried so much when he died, but he better now, oh and Timmy, oh timmy is so smart. Soooo smart like genuis level, and he's wayy smarter than me, wayyyy smarter, and alfie says he has my hair, but i dont see it- i think he got my jaw though- and then Cass oh Cassandra My baby girl she's lovely and sweet and a charmer, beautiful girl, so is Barbara, but she won't let me say that to her, no no, but she is, she's so pretty and smart and quick, she scares me sometimes but I love her, such a good girl yknow? And Stephanie? Oh she and Tim need to make it official so shes mine. mine mine mine. I need another daughter you know? Too many boys. Equality of men and women at home. I need them home. And then Duke. hes so lovely too. Oh and Damian. Damian took some adjusting but they're all so lovely yknow? I remember the day they were born so vividly. I was so happy. I love them so much. It hurt, of course, but what is that to the joy they bring now yknow?"
Bruce took a sip of his drink, nodding thoughtfully as he leaned back. Mrs. and Mr. Ketch blinked a few times, opened their mouths, closed them again, and leaned back as well, exchanging glances.
"Yes. Well. Quite." Mr. Ketch cleared his throat. "Bruce, perhaps we should call you someone? To take you home?" Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement.
"Come on sweetheart, let's get you home. You need to go to bed and.. and sleep this off." Bruce nodded, letting them help him stand and guide him to the door as Mr. Ketch called someone.
"Yeah. I like bed. And sleep. Oh- but I can't. Uh-uh, I promised Dickie I'd call him." Bruce nodded, turning to head back inside as though that would help his quest.
Mrs. Ketch grabbed his arm and gently, but firmly, led him back outside. "Rob just called him sweetheart, he's on his way."
"Oh." Bruce nodded. "Oh. Thas good." Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement, rubbing his back soothingly. "I like that." Bruce hummed, letting his eyes close. "Its like what my mother used to do." Mrs. Ketch looked at him in surprise, hand stilling for a second before resuming.
"Really?" She asked gently. Bruce hummed in confirmation. "Oh yes. Yeah she did. You do it well. You'd make a good mom. Just like me. Well, I don't make a good mom." At that he frowned at the ground, biting his lip. "But I try."
Mrs. Ketch smiled, turning them as a car pulled up. "Yes. You do. And you do it marvelously Bruce, truly. That's all we can ever do. Try." Bruce nodded his agreement as the door opened and his eldest emerged, rushing to his side.
"Bruce!" Dick looked genuinely worried, grabbing his shoulder. "You alright?" His son's eyes were searching, scanning his body.
"Oh hes fine." Mrs. Ketch waved with a smile. "Just a few drinks. I think it'd be best he go home though, sleep it off." Dick nodded his agreement, smiling at her. "Yes. I think thats best. Thank you." She shrugged, waving it off.
"Of course. It's what he would have done for me." Dick lowered Bruce into the passenger seat, heading for the drivers. "Bruce." Ketch tapped the window, leaning down. "Hm?" Bruce tilted his head, rolling it down.
"I'm pregnant." Bruce waited, jaw dropping slowly as the words connected in his brain. "You are?" She nodded, a small smile crossing her face.
"Yes. You're the first person I've told." She glanced nervously over her shoulder, to where her husband was waiting on the steps. Bruce reached for her hand, clasping it in his own.
"You'll make an excellent mother. And he will make an amazing father." He promised. She smiled, biting her lip anxiously. "You think?" Bruce nodded. "I know." At that her smile softened, and she patted his cheek.
"Thank you. And, for what it's worth Bruce," She glanced past him to Dick, who was kindly pretending not to listen. "I think you make an excellent mother."
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one-winged-dreams · 2 months ago
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Bestie I wanna preface this by saying I fully understand the abuse response of freezing and just being a doormat and the fear of standing up for yourself and I don't expect you to like. Actually Do This but I just thought perhaps it might help to have something reinforced from the outside: you are no longer a teenager trapped in your mothers house and forced to be under her thumb. You are a fully grown adult and she is, at this point, trespassing in your apartment that you pay for after showing up uninvited. Obviously I want you to be safe, but I do think you owe it to yourself to tell her that she needs to leave. It is fucking INSANE she and your father are putting you through this because they cant handle their own BS. Maybe talk it out with Owen so he can back you up, bc we know he will. You are not that scared little kid anymore, no matter how much she may make you feel that way. You shouldn't have to go through this.
Man, I so totally knew something like this was coming because tbh, even i'm getting tired of my bitching.
I absolutely agree with everything you've said, I just do not know how to force myself to go through with it, on god. I have been trying to build a spine for YEARS. I'm still utterly stumped.
Also let me offer an apology for letting this spiral turn me into a neurotic lunatic lately, that's not what I'm on this hellsite for.
Taking this to heart (and intense visceral consideration), let me take a moment to articulate why this is so fucking hard for me for the sake of like, putting things into perspective and also the trauma response of overexplaining things so I don't feel like a fucking idiot and just in case anyone wants to play psychotherapist for a few seconds and shoot me some advice. (tw for child abuse and general trauma dump below)
I used to argue with this woman almost on the daily, but eventually your own mother beating the living fuck out of you tends to break you down and now adult Adri is forced to live with this weird child-like need to be A Good Kid™ to A) avoid getting the living fuck beaten out of me (unrealistic), and B) i don't fucking know, get validation and love??? Who fucking knows. She was sobbing to me how I'm all she's got left because my sister refuses to have anything to do with it (she's the meanest bitch i've ever met, but at least she's got her priorities straight) and little beaten down Adri is like "Oh, that means I have to step up and do good, my poor mother who used to beat the living fuck out of me, i'd be *reads verbatim the shit she used to throw at me tattooed on my fucking hand* 'an evil ungrateful little bitch' if I refuse her."
Also taking into account what a paranoid nutjob she's become, I for SURE know that I will suffer Consequences™ should I show an ounce of defiance, I just don't know WHAT.
ANYWAY. That's what's all on my plate right now.
She offhandedly mentioned "If I can't find a new place then I'm going to have to go back home I guess" and at the risk of sounding like an awful person making someone go back into an abusive situation, I just kinda was like "Will you be okay there?" but forced myself to clam up and not object, so that's a potentially open door out.
I was literally sick with stress earlier today, so something's got to give at this point, and I know it's gotta be me. Because nothing's gonna get done if I don't do something. And I appreciate the tough love here, I really do, it was a good kick in the ass to make me pull myself together. I'm just sitting here with my head in my hands trying to figure it out. I will probably wait for Owen to get home to talk about this, and then -gestures vaugely- we'll see what we'll do. Hopefully whatever it is, it'll be asap.
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icewindandboringhorror · 1 year ago
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a quite simple outfit, trying to use the little blue and white apron thing (which is actually a dress I think, that I just leave un-buttoned in the back and added an apron-like tie to lol)
#self#mori kei#jfashion#NOT really but like.. it's.. adjacent I guess.. forgive me .. I may try using tags again though I kind of got out of the habit ghhj#I need to be... Seen to some degree. I want to start selling clothes and sculptures again to recoup the costs of having to euthanize my cat#and stuff . but that won't be very successful if I have like.. 15 people to sell to lol...#the eternal Hermit Conflict where you hate attention and Being Percieved in general yet in todays capitalist society it is nearly#a necessity to have some form of social network or media presence especially in creative fields. etc. etc. ... kicking screaming wailing#sobbing so on and so forth.. tearfully punching the cold mossy stone walls of my evil wizard tower...#I was also thinking of maybe opening a few sculpture commission slots and maybe Tumblr Blazing that post or something#but.. again.... sobbing crying interacting with the general public oughhf ouuch -500 HP#why can't I just be approached by some wealthy 65 year old woman who is nonsensically infatuated with my art for no#reason and gives me like $10.000 a week for food and art supplies and etc. and I can go fuck off into a cabin in the middle of nowhere#in the uk and just be left alone to work on my projects without even needing to build any form of connections or social presence because I'#already set for life and can just get funding and connections whenever lol.. WHICH not to be ungrateful like obviously I still appreciate#anyone who follows and interacts with my posts. I dont mean it in a 'grrr fuck all of you imbeciles I wish I could delete my blog!!!' or#whatever hhjkjk.. I just mean it more in a like.. I am very socially inept and my mental illness gives me severe social issues so any situ#tion where I'm expected to self promote or network or interact with others generally is nightmarish and stressful for many many reasons#and if I could somehow skip that part and just go straight to being a famous author or somethin.. that would be cool. Which I know EVERYONE#hates networking and stuff but I mean like.. on a level most people could not possibly comprehend.. I am not just an 'introvert'. I am like#doctors declare me incapable of functioning in general society very poor mental health prognosis probably should have a caretaker at#some point type Hermit lol.. ANYWAY ghbhj... alas.. I also feel weird about the sculptures in terms of what to charge for them#and always have which is part of why I stopped selling them. If I charged a fair even like $15 an hour many of them would be like#close to $150+. and nobody is going to pay that for a decoration. that doesn't even factor in like.. supplies or time spent communicating/s#etching the concept (if a commission) etc. etc. I thought it'd be better to just auction them then and let people pay what they want inst#d of a set price but etsy doesnt allow auctions and is it weird to just.. link people to an Art Ebay or something lol..#AAAANYWAY.. the outfit.. I still love these shoes. they're nice and a little Older Style looking. always into pastel florals too lol#(everything is thrifted as usual. excited about the shirt because it's so puffy! it was in the halloween section though ghjhj.. like when i#s october and they make the special aisle in goodwill for 'Costume' clothes even though theyre all just normal stuff I would wear ghg)
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k-hotchoisan · 4 months ago
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active recovery
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<yunho x fem!reader>
sore thighs suck after leg day. thank god Yunho is there to offer his help to ease the soreness 🤍
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genre/warnings: pwp, smut, contributing to the big cock!yunho agenda, leg day aftermath (soreness), it starts from an attempted massage and… yeah, size kink, unprotected sex, overstimulation, mating press position, breeding, fingering
a/n: haven’t written Yunho in a hot minute + my attempt of distracting myself from my leg soreness from leg day 😒
wc: 1.8K / apply for taglist here 🤍
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You wake up and you feel like lightning struck your legs, especially your inner thighs. You groan, feeling the soreness shoot up your muscles every time you move.
And to think you didn’t do enough squats the previous day. Your legs tremble slightly too even though you try to minimise any movement to the best of your ability.
Your hand combs through your messy bed in search of your phone. You find it and immediately scroll to your chats, tapping on the first one with Yunho’s name on it. 
[you]: I’m tapping out on gym today. My legs are fuckin toast. 
[yuyu🐶]: sounds like a skill issue. 
[yuyu🐶]: I’m joking please don’t block me. 
[yuyu🐶]: I’m coming over with food and some help ok?
You manage to muster the strength to leave your bed to wash up at least, forcing yourself to get used to the electricity running through your legs. 
The doorbell rings shortly and despite the jerks your legs were giving you on the way there, you manage to reach to the door to invite Yunho in, who has his hands busy with food like he promised. 
He sets up the table and he ensures you’ve eaten well before the both of you go to your bedroom to hear what he’s suggesting. 
“Which part of your leg is sore?” He asks, kneeling before you, giving your legs soft squeezes. You flinch and squeal when his fingers press against your thighs. Guess he’s got his answer. 
“Lie down for me. I’ll stretch you out”, Yunho instructs, and you do. 
Yunho starts with a slow massage, kneading against your sore muscles, ignoring your soft whimpers when his fingers press against a sore spot. It’s kind of working, but you still feel the sensitivity bursting through your nerves, and it makes you involuntarily twitch against Yunho’s touches. 
You groan when Yunho applies pressure on your thighs. He pushes your legs towards you, and he leans in. You try to ignore the suggestive position of Yunho’s crotch just pressing against yours while he’s stretching out your thigh, focusing on hoping to relieve any ounce of soreness at least.
Unfortunately, your soft groans aren’t helping with the situation. Try as Yunho might, ignoring you only seems to have your moans go straight to his dick. 
“Y/n, as much as I adore your voice, I’d appreciate it if you kept it to a minimum. It’s distracting.”
“I can’t help it if I’m this sensitive”, you pout, not realising you ticked something in him. “And also your reactions are cute with your ears all red like that.” 
Yunho narrows his eyes, ignoring your words , and instead focusing on trying to finish your massage. When he’s done with one side, he switches to the other, doing the same action of folding your legs against your chest, his thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy once more. Your thoughts are starting to float to a less pure space.
You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You and Yunho are just simply gym buddies—well, gym buddies who have some sort of funny tension going on recently. And now that he’s just this physically close to you—touching, pressing, stretching you, you can’t seem to get your mind out of the gutter.
It wasn’t until Yunho’s palm spread over your thighs once more, massaging against your thick flesh that you let out another sudden moan at the pressure, that Yunho seems to hit his limit. It’s enough that he’s holding back considering that his hands are getting dangerously close up further your thighs, the way he had himself pressed against you at a rather interesting position, but you, moaning at every touch he’s applying onto you? He can only hold back so much.
“Sorry Yun. It’s just… it feels so good when you do it like that.”
Then, Yunho has you under him, he towers over you on your bed. 
“They say active recovery is good for soreness. Lucky for you, I know a pretty good form of active recovery. Your thighs are gonna be doing a lot more stretching though.”
You swallow hard, wondering if you should take on what he’s trying to allude. Seems like you pressed a little too much of his buttons. Oops. Not that you wanted to complain though.
In the most twisted ways, you always wondered how Yunho would compare—his build wasn’t large, but he’s still big. His hands are big—and he makes carrying dumbbells look like toys. You always wondered where else would be big.
And now, you’re about to find out.
“Now, keep your legs open like this for me”, he instructs. Your bottoms are peeled off you in seconds, and you have your legs spread open. Yunho’s fingers pry your lips open to get his pretty fingers wet enough, then he trails down your wet cunt, circling your clit slowly.  
“You gotta relax for me, baby”, he coaxes you in a tone that’s sending you butterflies in your stomach. “If you can’t take my fingers, my cock is gonna snap in you, y’know?”
That’s all the warning he gives before his slender fingers plunge into your wet heat, and your brain completely melts at the feeling. 
“Good girl”, he comforts. His other hand is gently rubbing and massaging against your thigh once more, ramping up the sensitivity before he trails down to accompany his other hand, fully rubbing circles on your clit. 
Your back is arched from how much Yunho is pressing against your g-spot on top of stimulating your clit. It’s making your toes curl and your mind go blank. 
“Gonna cum Yun,” you mutter through heavy breaths. Yunho is kissing up your neck to your jaw before his lips are on yours, the movements of his fingers encouraging you to release all over them.
“Cum for me, baby. It’ll feel so good, I promise”,  Yunho whispers into your ear, snapping the knot in your stomach. 
He eats up your moans with his kisses, taking advantage of your mouth when your orgasm rakes through your whole body leaves your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging open. 
Yunho’s cock is soaked and hard underneath his shorts—it’s throbbing and pushing against the fabric of his apparel. So when you’re getting off your high, he has his pants off quickly too. His cock is thick and heavy, covered in precum, looking like the perfect thing to fill you up with.
His wet cock rests on your equally wet cunt, and Yunho strokes himself against your drenched folds, making sure his tip brushes against your clit every time. 
“Yunho, please”, you mutter, your pussy fluttering against nothing, aching for Yunho to just fuck you. 
“Not too sore to take my dick right?” Yunho teases, his gaze darting between your desperate eyes and the way cream from your pussy is decorating his big cock. 
“I’m gonna be stretching you in more ways than one, babe. Be a good girl and take it for me, yeah?”, he smiles. 
For some strange reason, you don’t feel the soreness in your inner thighs, or maybe you’re just so horny that it’s not the soreness that’s your main concern now. 
You bite your lip, then your mind completely coming undone when you feel Yunho push his cockhead into your pussy, stretching your hole open as he accommodates his thick cock in you. 
“Fuck. Look at your tight pussy trying to fit all of me in. I should fill you in for size training after our next sessions. Extra stretching sessions shouldn’t be much of a problem, right baby?” 
Maybe you should take up on that offer. 
The thought of Yunho fitting his fat cock to stretch you open just so your tight pussy can mold to his cock size after your gym sessions sounded way too fucking tempting, especially in your current predicament. You’re imagining the way he would coax your pussy to take more inches of him, and the thought of doing it right after your training sessions—being pumped full of endorphins and just Yunho’s fat cock—your pussy is just dripping and taking more of his cock by the second. Way too fucking enticing.
“Mm. That’s it, baby. Fit me in like this, yeah?” Yunho sighs when his cock finally bottoms out in you, your walls hugging him like a glove. 
You gasp at the fullness. His cockhead is pressing against your g-spot but you feel it in your fucking throat, and any small twitches his cock is making in you is a contender to make you cum any second. 
Your fingers grab onto his tensed biceps to give yourself some leverage, and Yunho is kind enough to wait for you to adjust, or maybe because he feels like he’s about to cum any second from the way your pussy is just squeezing him. 
“Jeong Yunho”, you pant, trying to catch your breath. “You’re so fucking big. Fuck. Oh my fucking god, I feel so full.”
He chuckles, rubbing slow circles from your inner thighs and clit. “All the more we should train for that.”
Yunho and his fat cock are gonna be the death of you. You didn’t even need leg day to do it for you. 
“God, Yunho, just fuck me already.”
“Gladly.” 
Your head is thrown back the moment his cock pulls out of you and thrusts back into you. You’re not gonna survive this, you swear. 
The moans slipping out of you grow louder and more lewd, and Yunho is gradually losing the ability to hold back when he hears his name in your high-pitched symphony paired with the way your pussy is just creaming all over him. He watches the way his cock pushes a bulge whenever he slides into you and it’s taking him everything to not to just rearrange your guts.
The pressure soon wears off, only pleasure flooding through your veins when Yunho fucks the daylights out of you. And now you’re growing greedy. 
So is Yunho. 
“You’re driving me crazy, baby”, Yunho is growing breathless whenever he feels your cunt sucking him in. “Keep doing that and I’ll guarantee you’re not walking straight tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan, Yuyu. Then you can come over to take responsibility, right?”
Yunho groans. God he fucking loves it when you’re like this for him. 
So he responds by grabbing you by your thighs and lifting your hips slightly to make sure his cock fills you up all the way. His eyebrows are furrowed in pleasure, mouth slightly open as he listens to your voice climbing up in pitch at every thrust he gives you. 
“So good. Ah fuck. You’re so fucking thick”, you cry through your fucked out delirium. 
Yunho bites his lip, his thrusts growing more desperate and erratic with his cock just twitching for his release. 
He settles your legs down, only to fold them so that your knees are almost pressing against your chest, making sure you fucking see stars while his cock fills you up over and over in that position, hitting your g-spot so fucking easily. You’re choking on your moans at this point, your orgasm just being dangled over your head. 
“Fuck, right there! Gonna cum, Yunho. Oh god, that’s it”, you sob, your orgasm hitting you through shots of dopamine filling up your brain and flooding all over your cunt, pulsing against Yunho’s dick. 
Yunho has his eyes rolled back when you’re squeezing uncontrollably against him, deciding to fuck you through your orgasm, listening to your cries like it’s his favourite sound for the rest of the day. 
“Shit, I don’t think I could ever get enough of this pussy”, he mutters through pants. “So fucking perfect to cum in.”
Yunho squeezes your legs as he stills in you, making sure every drop of his thick cum is filling your pussy to the brim. 
He jerks slightly before pulling out, still holding your legs open for him to watch his cum seep out of your pussy and onto the towel below. You squeal when you feel his long fingers push his cum back into your pussy. Yunho is never telling you, but it’s his silent way of putting his mark on you. 
He soothes your thighs a little more even though he’s still finger fucking his cum back into you while kissing and biting the soft flesh of your thighs. ignoring your cries of overstimulation, before he closes your legs to lie them down. 
“See, this is a form of active recovery too”, Yunho says matter-of-factly, looking up at you with a pretty deceptive smile with his head on your lap. You narrow your eyes, grabbing him by his scalp. 
“I’m gonna blow your phone up tomorrow if I can’t feel my legs, Jeong Yunho.” 
Yunho continues to smile, his fingers easily removing yours from his head. 
“I guess that’s a yes to the extra training sessions then?” 
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taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @mylovelymito @softwsan  @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie
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tiza0925 · 7 months ago
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okok hear me out but Akaashi dating reader and she has a spit kink 👉🏻👈🏻 you don't have to write anything about it but i would love to hear about it from you! (i love your works sm 💗)
…i think you’ve just woken something inside me, anon 🫠
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Intimate | 18+
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Warnings/Tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, praise kink, jealous!reader, dom!Akaashi, raw sex, multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, squirting, pussy slapping, petnames, little bit of choking, overstimulation, creampie, spit kink ♡ SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18
Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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You’re not a jealous person, you swear.
Your relationship with Akaashi is the most secure relationship you’ve ever been in—not once has he ever given you a reason to doubt him. 
To not trust him. 
He’s shown you nothing but respect, kindness—god, so much love and patience—ever since you two started dating. 
But—
Your jaw ticks as you watch a random girl get a little too close to him—watching how she laughs a little too much and looks at him with stars in her eyes. 
You can’t blame her, though—you look at him the same way—he’s good-looking and deserves to be appreciated for that. 
But that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t get to you whenever you see other people do it. 
Especially this particular girl who seems to refuse to leave his side ever since you two arrived at Kuroo’s house party. 
Because apparently—she’s close with Bokuto. 
Which means she knows Akaashi. 
But you barely hear Akaashi talk about her so it’s either he doesn’t see her as close as she thinks they are—
Or he’s hiding something from you. 
But that would be ridiculous—it’s Akaashi. 
He wouldn’t.
Right? 
You take a sip from your drink, then you turn to the person who’s currently talking to you—you think her name is Yachi—and you give her a slightly apologetic look as you walk away and straight towards him. 
And the girl that’s seemingly too giddy with whatever Akaashi is saying. 
It’s why you come up to his side with a small smile at the other girl, your arms around his waist, and Akaashi stops mid-sentence to look at you with a slightly concerned look—his one eyebrow raised as he asks in a soft murmur, “You okay?” 
You hum, a small smile threatens to pull at your mouth as he wraps one arm around you, holding you closer, and you nod. “Just tired.” 
He gives your waist a small squeeze, his voice a soft rumble against you. “Wanna go home then?” 
You blink up at him, then you quickly glance at the girl that was talking to him—and you feel a slight bud of satisfaction in your chest when you notice how annoyed she looks—and you nod, blinking up at him all sweetly. “Please?”
You end up in the passenger seat of his car a few moments later—looking out the window—as he drives you two home.
It’s quiet—comfortably so—as you watch light posts and buildings until—
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” 
You hear him ask that, his voice calm and quiet, and your eyes widen with surprise as your heart flips. 
You blink, turning to look at him—his eyes remaining on the road ahead—and you frown. “What?” 
“Suddenly wanting to go home and hugging me like that,” Akaashi then turns his head a little to give you a look like he knows something. “What was that about?” 
Oh. 
Was it that obvious how you felt? 
You blink. 
Silent. 
Then you swallow hard, playing dumb as you look away, murmuring, “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
But then you hear him let loose a low, caustic laugh—as if he doesn’t believe you—and you feel his hand, heavy and large on your thigh, with the heat seeping through your pants and skin, as he gives it a small squeeze. “Alright.” 
It’s how you end up with your face stuffed into a pillow, back arched, and ass out the moment you two arrive back home—
“Oh fuck—”
And you’re cumming around a thick cock with your moan getting muffled into the cushion. 
“Look how well you take me,” His voice comes out a low drawl, sounding so nonchalant as if he isn’t fucking you deep into your cunt with a harsh grip around your waist—holding you in place as Akaashi makes you take all of him with your orgasm throbbing through you. 
Your mind goes numb, and you whine when he drags his dick against your G-spot, overstimulating you. 
“Keiji—fuck—please—”
But then he pulls out—leaving you empty and pulsing around nothing—causing a trickle of your juice to leak out, and you let out a sudden cry when Akaashi leaves a harsh slap against your wet pussy with his hand. 
“Turn around.” 
Fuck. 
You listen almost immediately—moving to lay on your back, breathing heavily, and Akaashi smiles down at you from the bridge of his nose, admiring you for just a moment—
Then he’s hooking your legs over his shoulder—and your eyes grow wide when you feel the head of his cock slide over your drooling pussy, bumping your clit that has your head going dizzy, and then—
“Do you think she’d be able to take me as well as you do?”
Then he starts to ask that—in that taunting, calm voice of his—and your cheeks grow hot at the mere mention of that girl, jealousy pricking the edges of your vision and—
You whimper when he pushes his cock back inside you, filling you and making you feel so full as he rolls his hips against yours, building that sweet buzzing ache in your pussy again. 
Akaashi watches the way your cunt swallows him so perfectly—his girth opening you up as you cream all over him—and he wets his lips, his smirk turning lecherous. “You think she’d look this pretty around my cock too, baby?”
He’s not blind.
He can pick up on the small signs of jealousy from you with just a small look, word—even the way you act.
He’s observant—and he clearly didn’t miss the way you were eyeing that girl from earlier.
You suck in a large breath, feeling him in your damn throat as he fucks you languidly, and your voice is breathy when you bite out a response. “Why don’t you go and find out for yourself then.” 
Akaashi leans down and god—you sob out a moan when he nearly bends you in half, shoving his dick so deep into you that your entire body goes limp. 
You’re practically shaking as his lips hover over yours, and his eyes—all half-lidded as he observes you—grow alight with something darker and amused as he hums lowly. “I don’t think I will.” 
He pulls out, the tip of his dick catching your hole, then he immediately thrusts back in with one, harsh slap of his skin against yours—making you gasp as your juices gush out. “Nobody else can get messy like you do, baby.” 
His smirk comes slow and syrupy, his hooded eyes observing you—how your eyes are glossy with tears threatening to spill out—and he goes to pull on your lower lip with his mouth, kissing you so achingly soft despite the harsh fucking. “Nobody else feels this tight around me.” 
You moan against him, your arms numbly wrapping around his neck as you take his cock pushing in and out of you—your pussy swallowing him whole like it needs his dick in there. 
It’s so fucking needy that even when you feel him digging into your lungs with his cock—you still want more of him, that swelling ache in your clit just begging for it.
And god—he gives it to you. 
He fucks you with one hand coming to thumb your sensitive clit—rubbing it in slow circles with your juices coating it until you’re clenching around his cock, squeezing him and throbbing as you cum for a second time. 
“Shit,” Akaashi groans, driving into you as his head gets foggy with lust, and heat overwhelms him as you make a mess on you both—clear liquid squirting out of your poor little pussy with every rock of his hips, and tears finally spill down your cheeks with oversensitivity. 
“Don’t cry, angel,” Akaashi soothes you, his voice throaty and heavy, and his hand that was on your clit comes up to wipe your tears—spreading your fluids all over your face and getting you dirty as he calmly shushes you. “You asked for this.” 
You know. 
You just didn’t anticipate how intense Akaashi will be to make sure you know that you were being irrational for feeling jealous—to fuck you until you felt all loose and dumb from his dick that you can’t do or say anything but whimper and cry for him. 
God—
You suck in small, gasping breaths as he slides his hand down until he’s rolling his thumb over your bottom lip, and—
And then his pupils grow wide and dark, there’s a small tick at the side of his lips that looks carnal, and your heart leaps into your throat as he forces your mouth open as he presses down onto your lip—your heart thundering in your ears as you watch with shiny eyes, unsure what he plans to do until—
Until he also opens his mouth as well, and your mind grows heady with submission with your tongue out for him, your pussy clenching him so fucking tight as he lets a small, pearly glob of his saliva string down onto your tongue. 
And fuck—he lets out a low groan of approval, making your chest swell at how satisfied he looks as you please him. 
“Swallow.” His voice is so deceptively soft.
But you listen and swallow. 
With no hesitation. 
And it should feel gross with him spitting in your mouth like that—making you feel like some whore under him—
But instead—it does things to you. 
It makes things so much more fucking intimate. 
You keep eye contact with him as your throat bobs with an obedient swallow, your body moving with every thrust of him inside you, and Akaashi can’t help but lean down to kiss you so deeply that you shudder against him—
“Such a good girl for me—shit,” His hand comes to the front of your neck, his calloused fingers wrapping around it and giving it a little squeeze, making you moan as you sloppily kiss him back, your vision growing blurry. 
Then he leans back, hand still on your throat, and his chest rise and falls as he continues to fuck your abused pussy, your fluids making a mess, and he turns his head to brush his lips against your calf. 
“I want you to cum on my cock again, love, you do it so well for me.”
Then he brings his other hand to press on your lower stomach, making you keen with a wet moan—and you feel so fucked out and dumb in the head as another orgasm steadily pulses through you. 
“And say my name when you do, love,” Akaashi breathes out lowly, his dick in your guts as he pushes his hand down a little more, “Because nobody else gets to do that except you.” 
More clear liquid gushes out of you, spraying and squirting all over him as your legs shake with another orgasm for that night—his name on your tongue, making his head spin as he fucks you through it. 
And then he’s spurting out thick loads of his hot cum into your sore pussy, shoving it further into you with every push of his cock inside your walls—making sure you know that only you get to be marked like this by him. 
end.
Masterpost
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yummymitzy · 4 months ago
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It means everything to me.
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Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?
Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI
WC: 3,154 
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader
————♡————
Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.
You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.
You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right? 
As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.
After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated. 
Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.
There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.
“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.
“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.” 
“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.
As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.
Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings. 
You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking. 
“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.
The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.  
But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.
It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.
“Fella did me wrong.”
“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.
“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.
“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.
————♡————
You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started. 
You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision.   The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.
The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too. 
Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play. 
After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game. 
“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.
“Truth.”
“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”
Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.
“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.
“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright. 
Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap. 
Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?
Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.
Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat. 
————♡————
You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.
“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.
“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.
“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.
Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you. 
Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.
You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.
As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.
Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.
“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze. 
You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?
The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door. 
“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.
“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.
“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.
You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.  
Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.
You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.
That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips. 
“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.
“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.
“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.
“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.
Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.
The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.
With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you. 
She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.
“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out. 
Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.
“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches. 
The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.
She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.
“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.
“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb. 
“Go ahead and cum, baby.” 
To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines. 
“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers. 
You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly. 
“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.
“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy. 
The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck. 
Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking. 
She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more. 
You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now. 
Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.
“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.
Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.
“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.
“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.
2K notes · View notes
sebscore · 4 months ago
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 
author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 
masterlist
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''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 
The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 
Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 
In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 
As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 
Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 
That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 
Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 
''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 
''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.
The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 
Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 
She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 
Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 
''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 
Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 
She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 
Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 
''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 
''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 
''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 
She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 
''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 
They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 
''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 
''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 
''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 
Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 
It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 
The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 
The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 
Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 
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''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 
Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 
''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 
''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.
''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 
Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 
''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 
The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''
The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 
''Thank you.'' 
With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 
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Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 
Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.
She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 
Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 
It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 
She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 
His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 
Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 
''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 
She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 
Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 
''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 
He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 
She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 
''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 
''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 
''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 
Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 
He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 
''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 
''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 
''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 
Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 
''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 
His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 
''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 
''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 
She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 
That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 
She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 
A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 
The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 
She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 
As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.
Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 
Are they still friends? 
The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 
As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.
The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 
Are they still friends? 
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story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)
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mywritersmind · 1 month ago
Text
OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4
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summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3
listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader
word count : 1017
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”
I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.
“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.
The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?
“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.
They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.
“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.
“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.
“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes
“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.
“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.
His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”
I nod, “I’m sure.”
“I could have sworn it was her room!”
I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”
“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”
I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”
He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”
“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”
He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”
I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.
The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.
“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.
I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.
He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.
“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”
“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”
He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”
“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”
“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”
I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”
“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”
“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”
Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”
“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”
“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.
“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”
Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.
“Good luck.”
The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.
I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.
I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.
Except when I open the door, no one’s there.
I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.
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I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.
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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 1 month ago
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Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments  
Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech
Jade Leech 
“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.  
Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.  
“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”  
“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”
If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.  
“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed  
“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”  
Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.  
“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”  
He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.
While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.  
After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.  
Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.  
Rook Hunt
“Rook, can I ask you a question?”  
Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”  
“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-” 
“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”  
Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.  
Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.  
“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”  
“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.  
“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”  
And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general. 
“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”  
Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.  
When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.  
“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”  
He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has  
“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.  
“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”  
Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.  
Vil Schoenheit 
“Vil, may I ask you a question?” 
“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.  
“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”  
“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”  
“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?” 
“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.  
“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”  
“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”  
Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.  
“Alright, let���s start here.”  
Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.
“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”  
And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow. 
“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.  
It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.  
Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.  
Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.  
“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”  
It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.  
“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.  
“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?” 
It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.  
Floyd Leech
“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”   
Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~” 
“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”  
His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.  
“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”  
Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”  
He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.  
The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.  
Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.  
“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”  
The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.
Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.  
Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.  
“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”  
“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”  
“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?
But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.  
“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.
“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”  
“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.” 
He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”
He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.  
“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”  
“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~” 
“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”  
They both blink.  
“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.  
“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”  
He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.  
This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.  
“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”  
He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.  
“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”  
581 notes · View notes
barnacles34 · 17 days ago
Text
Momentous Entropy (Yujin x Male Reader)
Yujin x Male Reader
Warning: Smut, 7k+ words
Tumblr media
The door accelerated open, showing a peek of a small dorm. Yujin’s head popped out from the door’s side, her face entirely shaped by a beautiful smile— eyes morphed into two crescent moons facing downwards. 
Despite her giggling shyness, she stopped hiding behind the door. She welcomed me in, still with a brilliant smile, “Welcome Professor Eunwoo! Welcome to my dorm.” 
“I know it’s small compared to your penthouse or whatever you were talking about with your coworkers, but it’s great for deep, focused work.” She snuck in the stalker-level information in between two welcoming remarks.
“Thanks for welcoming me here.. Wait.. What?” I only caught the intrusion mid-sentence.
She knew I heard her��word for word. It was mutualistic to not ruin the moment with heedless questions in the specifics, we’d forgotten whatever we talked about a moment ago; rather, focusing on each other's faces.
Of course, I would never let her know. It’s an apprenticeship after all, I’d be brought down with all the academic reputation I have if I even considered anything remotely intimate.
As I entered her dorm, I noticed something unusual. She wore a formal skirt with a white shirt and even her hair seemed to have been carefully molded for a grueling amount of time. Why did she dress up so vibrantly even though all she wore outside were casual clothes? Of course, I would never look her up and down, that would be a grave mistake, my peripheral vision was enough, my imagination did the rest.
I looked away immediately when my imagination went onto a wholly inappropriate tangent, instead I appreciated the clean place, clean of a single speck, the wallpaper matted with a freshness that couldn’t be faked with a single day of cleaning; the nice smell loomed over the place, something flowery, something inherently feminine, I was beginning to feel out of place. 
There’s something poetic about a beautiful person being a beautiful human being as well, though I used two synonyms to describe something inherently different, I’m sure you get what I’m saying. She was good-looking, diligent, smart, clean, the list goes on and on. Sometimes attractive people have some of the most vapid, vanitous, vain lives; sometimes, it’s refreshing to see someone just so contrary to that common belief.
I was walking slowly while she went to her room to set up, I paced my steps to not seem awkward by standing too still or pacing around her entire dorm. 
She came out of the door, her eyes were not morphed by a smile, rather two large pupils akin to a labrador stared straight at me.
Some people’s stares immediately make you uncomfortable, angry even, their voided personality that can only be filled with continued staring. Yujin was rather supplemented by the stare, her intense rich inner-life always apparent, her natural charisma exuding throughout.
The thought was broken when Yujin said, “Mr. Eunwoo, before we get started, I know you forget some of the essential parts of life, like breakfast.” She swiftly went to the countertop, opening some cupboard and pulling out an already-prepared breakfast.
“Why do you have a full meal in the cupboard?” I was completely stumped, there is never anything consistent with Yujin.
“I don’t know, just in case, you know, if you tried to stop me from serving you breakfast.”
“Why do you want to serve me breakfast in the first place? This is inappropriate. Wholly.”
“Please!~ Just try it!” Her eyes glistened, displaying how determined she was to get me to taste it.”
I obliged her for once. The breakfast was great, it was just too foreign, everything was opposite of what I’ve lived on; familiarity lied in the dusty libraries, the cramped, yet cozy study rooms, the decrepit dorms. Yet, I’ve gotten too successful, my quality as an academic has deteriorated too quickly, the distracting throes of fame, money, power however unattractive were always pushed onto me by those I used to hold close. I’ve resented success for however long I’ve held it, never has it ever contributed to my learning.
Yet, could this be an aspect of success? An attractive young lady, serving breakfast, serving a jet black coffee with enough caffeine to sedate rather than stimulate. Hold on, how does she-
“How do you know my coffee preference?” I asked, again, alarmed.
“That’s–um, I don’t know, based on my deduction, you know, like your disheveled appearance, I just assumed you lived off of caffeine.” A smile formed again, this time, a smile of victory over me, a rare enough event for a celebration.
“You’d be right.” Slightly, I scoffed at her remark, gladly sipping the bitter coffee.
Just like that, she already made me feel welcome, warmed up to the most foreign of places.
How could she do that? Is it on purpose? I can’t just ignore the influence she has over me, even if she is a student and I, a professor. I’ve always fought, fought and fought for everything, everything; the simplest of things failed at least a dozen times. Do you understand the disparity of it all? From failing at least a hundred times to now, an empathetic kindness, a warm smile greeting me regularly. I’m aware the description is akin to describing a drug, an addiction, I’m completely aware of it, and I’m desperate. Desperate for this continued exchange, and that’s why I willingly, so perpendicularly of my nature, succumb.
When I snap back to reality, the calm environment filled my sensory world. The white walls are furnished with small plants attached to the wall. I looked back at the kitchen, to check if Yujin was still there—she had planted her elbows on the countertop that I was sitting at, on the other side, her chin held up by her two fists, her cheeks were slightly squished and she was staring directly into my eyes.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
“Nothing. You were so focused on that wall, I just thought it’d be interesting to stare at you.” That’s right, she’s also adept at mocking.
“Alright. Alright you brat, let’s get on with it. Where did we leave off last time?”
“Something about an assessment for me to continue being your apprentice.”
“Right. Right, I remember.”
“You don’t even carry around notes? For your ‘apprentice’?”
“Don’t need to”
“Ok, well, follow me, you’re gonna have to sit cross-legged on the floor.”
“Fine by me, lead the way.”
“Tired or sitting on gold-plated chairs, Mr. Eunwoooo?” Though her teasing was getting a little obnoxious, maybe the first-time visit to her dorm has her more anxious.
I scoffed at the reply, and followed to sit next to her on the coffee table, with enough distance as to make our apprenticeship obvious.
As do all our sessions, it starts cold, detached, at least compared to the end. Near the end, it becomes a warm haze, a studious discourse turns into something enjoyable, something that genuinely complements your life beneficially.
That’s also a reason why I continue to speak to Yujin. These unforeseen, unconsidered degrees of freedom had gone out of control, and inevitably, the attachment I had to being an academic was on its last string, its last stitch.
Only a fixation, a continued mutualistic companionship with Yujin has seemed to crutch my skill. And, I’m willing to go against all my morals to continue it.
It can be easily inferred that I’d let Yujin pass with flying colors to be my apprentice. Hiding it, though, is an entirely different story that I’d have to consider deeply through the assessment.
Of course, there’s always an optimism to expect in the radius of Yujin, the soft carpet, the flimsy coffee table. 
Despite this, the assessment was rough, she was missing questions on purpose, and I couldn’t call her out for it because I was purposely trying to modify it in a way that she was always somewhat correct; in academia, this was enough, more than enough, even ground-breaking. But, this wasn’t even close to enough for Yujin, she was already suspicious of my bullshittery and in the 5th question, a free-response that I’d modified. She frowned deeply, her eyes glistened in a sort of sadness.
She spoke with disappointment, mostly with herself, “Why are you trying to make me pass? It’s obvious that the answers that I have are completely wrong, I can tell in the glint of your eyes.”
In order to trick Yujin, I’d have to have a near perfect system—a small gear falling out was all it took for Yujin to catch it. 
“Before you freak out, these are questions for my PHD students, you’re a freshman, of course I’d have to modify it.”
“But why are you teaching me, an undergrad, instead of your usual PHD students?”
“Huh?” I was stumped, she was as intelligent as a fox.
Her eyes were melancholic, dark with a sort of sadness, disappointment.
“Why do you teach me?” She added on, then continued, “all your students did nearly the same thing as I did to gain some sort of favor, perhaps I tried slightly harder. I guess I argued with you a little more, challenged your authority, but anyone that did that was swiftly punished by you. I guess I was more insistent to be taught but you shoved off anyone that did that, except me. Why me? You’re not doing it for the money, you have plenty of it and I don’t have any. This doesn’t progress your career as well, you’re teaching a freshman about something that’s so ingrained that you don’t need notes for it.” Slowly her deduction processed what she was saying, and she was getting dangerously close to the answer.
I’d have to go on a tangent to another reason.
“I don’t know, maybe that you’re particularly bright, and I mean it, I know you feel like an idiot sometimes; it’ll never be as bad as how I felt it, god, if I was half as smart as you are when I was a freshman, I might’ve found the philosopher’s stone by now.”
“You’re so bad at giving compliments.” She laughed into her forearms that went to wipe her not-yet flowing tears. 
“I mean it.” I replied quickly.
“No you don’t”
“If I tried to do an apprenticeship with my freshman self I’d be on death row the second day.”
It seemed to brighten the mood, she laughed harder, and.... and cried harder into her knees.
Confused by the contradiction of her actions, I just looked away, trying to offer some measure of comfort by just being present.
“I’m sorry, when I sta-start crying I just can’t stop.”
Even when she’s crying, a torrent of emotions pouring out, I don't feel uncomfortable.
“I’m here, Yujin, I’ll wait.”
“Thank you, Mr. Eunwoo-hick-it’s not your fault, I just feel extra emotional these days…”
Everytime she tried to continue with the assessment, her tears seemed to continue flowing, albeit a little slower.
“Hold my hand Mr. Eunwoo.”
“What?”
She sniffled, “Just hold it, it’ll help me stop crying.”
“Alright, alright.” I said as calmly as possible, not saying anymore, grasping her hand tightly.
She was sniffling—not crying—beside me, the distance that we had had closed a little. To say this was a foreign experience was an understatement, a relevant example would be to compare it to would be: a cat in zero gravity, I’d recommend watching some videos of it.
Yet I didn’t feel any reflexive reaction to this novel experience, I only held harder and felt ever-present in the experience
Suddenly, she whimpered, her hand reflexively moved.
“Ow, sorry, I’m not yet used to the tight grip.” She softly said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, I like it, continue.” Her head finally seemed to release from her damp forearms, her eyes were slightly red. 
As I grasped her hand to a firm level, she put her head on the couch seat, her hair slightly splaying out, her eyes looking at the ceiling.
She whispered, “I know you like me.”
“I-” A flourish of heat went straight to my face, everything seemed to be burning down today.
“I like you too.” She continued.
“Please, think about what you’re saying.” I sputtered out, trying to adjust her projected advance.
“I can’t hide it anymore, I just can’t. I’m delicate, I have my heart on my sleeve… but I’ve never been so sure of it—nothing else has ever made me feel this way: no friend, no family member, no passion. You can continue saying that I’m naive, that it’s my first time, that it’ll pass…” Her words start becoming a jumble, as if all that she wanted to get out in a short manner wasn’t enough, as if all that crying was because of what she had to say.
She continued, “I know you’re a professional, that no matter what I say, you’ll decline, even if you liked me. I had to cry because of it, not because I was getting things wrong, I could care less about that… It was the fact that I can no longer handle admiring you from afar, I had to vocalize my appreciation, even if it was all for naught.”
After a brief silence, she continued, “I just had to get this off my chest, even if you despise me now, even if you run away now.” 
She looked away, expecting me to walk away while giving her a stare of pure hatred.
She was still looking at the ceiling, trying to prevent more tears from flowing down. I leaned my head back on the couch seat and looked at the ceiling.
“I love you.” I finally said, shaky with a risky determination.
“What?” 
“I love you.”
Her hand gripped tightly, her hands were noticeably shaking.
“What now?” She stuttered out.
“I don’t fucking know.” I sighed—sighing deeper than I’ve ever sighed—I also felt an immense pressure release from something grabbing me from within.
“Why don’t we go ahead with the assessment?” 
“After all that?”
“Yeah, I mean I feel like a huge burden has been lifted, I just wanna see if I perform better.”
“Alright, if that’s what you want.” I pulled my head from the couch seat, and sat—facing her. 
After a lengthy discourse, one that stretched for more than an hour judging by how we both had to correct our posture at least a dozen times. And, within that discourse, Yujin was infallible, every question was answered with lengthy consideration with the nuance, the specificity, the word choice. 
Near the end, it went something like this: “Foucault’s theory states that the evolving system of penal systems aligns, or in parallel, with everything around us. Before, in medieval ages, violent spectacles of blood and gore were prioritized as punishment, no additional consideration for the esotericism within. Whereas, now, the spectacle of violence is wholly shunned and penal systems focus on shaping the soul, rehabilitating the mind. However, the application of this idea has been rather controversial, and it could be explained with the idea of the panopticon: with the growing concern of shaping the mind, which is almost like a black box, penal systems have a growing habit of surveilling more and more.”
Yujin stared at me for some sort of confirmation.
“And?” I waited expectantly.
“And, this panopticon can be applied to anything, schools, hospitals, even changing cultural norms.”
“Wow, I have to say, how much did you prepare prior to this?”
“Prior to this? A lot, a lot of work.” Her voice was confident, a far cry from her whimpering only a moment ago.
“How do you not sleep in my lectures considering the fact that this material is so much more advanced than the class you take?”
“I can just stare at you.” Her head was getting closer—I didn’t care. In the beginning of the assessment, we were separated by plenty of space—enough to clearly show it was a professional exchange. By the end, we were shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side, speaking cordially, even despite our physical contact.
“Awfully bold for someone who cried in front of her professor for like half an hour straight.”
“Ugh! Don’t remind me.” Her face cringed.
I bit my lip, looking down—the mood was serene, it’s just that I keep getting reminded that I’m willingly participating in a mutual seduction between professor and student.
Fuck all of it.
I pulled my hand out of her hand—before she could demand that I return my hand—I wrapped my arm around her upper back, with my hand wrapping at the end of her shoulder.
Her posture straightened during the process, of course the forbidden path was still on her mind, still latent and not yet brought to fruition. But she quickly adapted, she looked to her side, at me, smiling warmly.
“It’s so amazing. How many hints have I had to give out?”
“Don’t act like you manipulated me to do this.”
“How else would the great Eunwoo betray his values? Just a wisp in the wind?”
“You brat, don’t forget my honorifics.”
“What? I couldn’t hear you… Eunwoo.”
I quickly pull her in, with my hand shielding the back of her head before I pushed her onto the floor, a soft tuft sound. I was on top of her, between the couch and coffee table, with her legs locked between mine.
Her doe eyes were on full display, her large pupils were somehow dwarfed by her eyelids which opened wider, the whites of her eyes under and above the pupil visible. She was shocked, taboo aside, it’s likely she’s never even experienced something like this.
“Can I kiss you?” Four words. These four words were all that I could think of, fantasize about for these past months. She’d accept of course, they all did—in the past. Still, there’s an immeasurable tension, an uncertainty without even weighing in the consensual agreement. 
Perhaps some part of the tension was the taboo, that a professor was about to ruin the makeup of a freshman; smudge her lipstick, suck her lips until they were swollen; the condensation of love-making staining, blending in the carefully sculpted makeup with her natural beauty.
I didn’t hear the agreement, in part due to the fact that Yujin herself brought her head up to kiss me. Unfortunately, some care was forgotten, the way I had to grab Yujin's head led to a soft collapse onto the carpet, her head making a soft thump, our teeth clicking from the force. A collaborative soft chuckle escaped through the smallest of air leaks between our lips—a testament to our dedication to continue kissing, then it was airtight again, her soft lips glided over mine, her taste so feminine, so ephemeral.
It was obvious she was chaste, perhaps even ‘unclaimed’, her virginal lips were erratic, confused, yet so fucking shamelessly hot. Her low moans vibrated more in my mouth, goading me further, to enter deeper into her soft, welcoming mouth.
Slowly, steadily, our tongues entwined, the kiss was less air tight to allow for a more dynamic, sensual french kiss. Her mouth was begging, I was obliging, there was never a fairer exchange, as if her mouth was made for mine, and hers for mine. 
Suddenly, she managed to push me over, until I was face-up, staring into Yujin’s eyes. This was the first time our eyes met during the makeout session, there wasn’t a single word that could explain what we needed to do; besides, our glazed eyes, slick with lust, spoke more than a one-dimensional tool like language. A small chuckle escaped our lips when our lips met in the middle, her head positioning lower, my head higher in the air, until my goading hands, entwined in her angelic soft hair pulled her head down. Our lips slotted in like perpendicular lines, no matter how awkward it felt, it just felt right, as if it were the most lustful way of expressing our unbridled affectations.
My hands explored her clothed body, exploring the beauty on me—who is restlessly, yet in a fierce, virginal way exploring every inch of my mouth—her beautiful curves were soft, pliant, firm, any press had an opposing force—an illegally soft opposing force. She was an angel—an angel on top of me, unaware of how much I wanted to ruin her.
“You’re going to regret it.” I say, in between wet kisses on Yujin’s lips. “This is the only thing I’ve been sure of.” Yujin replied, her voice husky with a sort of mindlessness that only the kiss could’ve caused. I reply, scaldingly, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Still trying to warn her, of course, there was a mind and body separation. I was completely, utterly, under the seduction of Yujin, no matter how much I warned her. We both knew, that I wouldn’t hesitate to fuck her all over the dorm—not even for a millisecond. “Please, huff, that's all I’ve ever wanted, all I could think ever about… to be by your side through it all.” She pressed another kiss, a brief one, “The messy way you keep your desk, and how happy I am to organize it, how obliging I am. You’ve seduced me without knowing, before you ever even thought about me I’ve imagined millions of scenarios with you by my side.” Another kiss, a light peck, “Imagine the pride I felt when I found you left your suitcase by the chair in the library, to serve you measurably. It was just ordinary for you, but, but… it was the seventh heaven for me…”
Yujin was systematically removing every screw, with a perfectly fit screwdriver. Whether Yujin was conscious of it or not; she was kryptonite, the way her soft thighs brush against the sides of your abdomen, the soft feeling of her breasts, dipping onto my chest.
I needed to do more, with our mouths still connected, I sat up. Her ass was on my lap, the changing sensory world didn’t matter to her, all she wanted to do was oblige in the kisses. It didn’t even phase her once when I picked her up, standing, only, her legs locked herself in place to continue our mouth-to-mouth connection. I began my march to her bedroom, optimized to the utmost degree, every small peek I had of her bedroom perfectly aiding in this desperate situation—where I have to fuck Yujin for the remaining day, then the next, perhaps even forever; if only time would allow it so.
Her body clung to mine as I pressed her against the bed. This time, I had to pull off the heat of my loins unbearably tight, wanting—of new sensations. I could only imagine how ridiculous I looked, given how swollen Yujin’s lips were, I could only imagine how bad it must be—of course, the imagery was supplemented with Yujin's soft giggle, her eyes staring at my mouth.
I finally got to rid Yujin of her treacherous t-shirt—one that blocked the view of her perfect breasts, her perfect abdomen. Her lithe, firm body was running every gear in my head, on how to perfectly ravish—to perfectly mark with my actions. Yujin could only stare, wide-eyed, she doesn’t know what happens after, a little virgin, there needn't be a single statement clarifying this—I’ve already explored her enough to conclude so. I press into her, my mouth near her ears, “Don’t worry Yujin, you’ll just be under the greatest pleasure of your life, helplessly moaning—squealing on your professor’s face.” All she could reply with was a deep, sensual moan that would seem like someone pressed into her lungs, that’s how deep it was. Slowly, but surely, I shift down, letting my fingers grip onto her godly skin, leaving vertical white trails on her skin until her pelvis; when I hook her skirt, off. 
I could immediately feel the goosebumps on her thighs, where the warmth, the security of the skirt—or the lack thereof—provided some protection of her core, her wet little core. I stare into her eyes again. My stature of a well-respected professional is gone—only an animalistic drive to nail the hottest woman in the world through the bed. The dynamic of professor and student, no matter how fucked up, no matter how morally corrupt—or nefarious; began to turn me on instead of inhibit, it seems so to for Yujin as well, the stain of her arousal clear. 
Her arms seemed to retract to her chest, her forearms squeezed her breasts together; though, I’m sure that wasn’t intended, rather, it was likely to protect her little throbbing heart from the sensations, that heart she had on her sleeve. Despite my raging erection, my raging lust, I was inclined to treat her like porcelain, at least that part of me wasn’t totally exhausted. Except when Yujin said, “I’m not so fragile, daddy, break me.” Uncontrollably, greedily I pressed my mouth against her wetness, kissing around the soft skin. The wetness radiated, even under a layer of cloth, albeit a very flimsy, sexy, cloth. 
Small whimpers rung out, vibrating the surface of her glossy skin around her heat after every small peck I placed on her inner thighs. Her legs were between my head, her thighs rested above my shoulder. As Yujin stared with a dogged innocence, a beautiful hesitance—-I hooked the side of her panty. I pulled—softly, making sure the wet cloth makes as much contact, frictional force with her pink core. The gift wrapping revealed something divine, the lightest pink you can imagine, glossy with something that only be arousal. Slowly, I dipped my tongue into her core—it was unimaginably comfortable, the way her pussy felt on my tongue, a sort of hot soft-serve that got molded by your tongue. But it didn’t taste like anything, that’s when a realization hit: she spent an inordinate amount of time preparing, making sure that every part of her was ripe for a nice fuck, and slowly guided me into her siren-like seduction. I patted the side of her ass, giving a grin—as nasty as I could make it, a sign of things I was about to do, a sort of payback for her masterful manipulation. She stared back, her open mouth, the visible teeth morphed into a half-smile, still focused on how pleasurable my tongue was on her pussy. Immediately, I placed my finger on her clit, pressing softly against it, then circling it before I dipped my tongue deeper into her unimaginably tight hole. Her breathing went faster, her lower-half rubbed softly—even resisting when the pleasure was far too much. Of course, that’s not what she signed up for—she signed up for a grueling fucking, a rough marking by her beloved professor. 
10 seconds, only 10 seconds after the eye-contact, she came all over the bed. Her juices flowed freely, painting her inner thighs in some beautiful glossy coating. Her abdomen tensed in a rough hyperventilation, her cries grew higher and loud before she released into a deep moan. I tried to get as much of her juices on my fingers as possible, before letting her take it in the mouth—making her taste the fruits of her efforts, then spreading the saliva on my fingers over her chin.
“You taste amazing by the way.” I stated, waiting for some explanation.
“This is how I taste, always.” She panted, justifying it all.
“It wasn’t just a carefully constructed ruse to bed me?”
She scoffed, “What kind of evil bitch do you think I am? I’m beginning to worry about what type of woman you bedded before me to make you think pussy tastes bad.” Scoffing, her chest heaving, all glistened up.
“I’m a virgin too, I wouldn’t know.” I replied, jokingly.
This time, she whimpered, “That’s… Ugh” I felt a resistance, then a strong push, she was suddenly saddened at the prospect of being just another lady bedded, another number. While she focused on the sentiment, my eyes, my lustful gaze only landed on her body. Of course, there’s always an opportunity after every resistance—an opposing force against the applied force. Her head was positioned away, stubbornly opposing, but she left her bare neck—her smooth, thin neck—too openly. 
Thus, my lips ended up on her smooth neck---squeezing out her pitiful moans. "Ungh~stop~! I'm still sensitive." She squeaked, her little throat muscles striated in trying to get her meek statement out. Fuel to the fire, it was only fuel to the fire, like a flame retardant---such as water---only strengthening the flame.
I marked her neck full of light bruises, ones that'll be dark tomorrow---dark in how badly I've wanted to possess her. Truly, I've gone insane. My mouth traced a path, from her soft, bruised neck down her bosom. Her nipples were framed with perky breasts, soft with a delicate femininity that she curated so diligently, so meticulously. Her little squeaks, pleads, exited her cute mouth faster, almost as much as when I ate her pussy. It was due to the multi-task that I engaged in, devouring her breast, whilst my hand massaged the other---less fortunate---breast.
Slowly, I released myself from her delicious breasts, still insatiable, pressed down on her breasts, my index fingers gliding, gripping against her nubs as if it were joysticks---literal joy sticks. Her breasts were painted in a beautiful pink hue, from how I used her, how I marked her---initially whitened from the pressure, then pink, then likely to be red for the rest of the day.
"Eunwoo..." she was splayed out on the bed, utterly satisfied---still with an enthusiastic gaze. "I want to suck your cock." She stated, matter of fact. "I want you to paint my mouth in your seed." she continued. "Let your seed fill my belly, the remains coating my chin..." her movements after each statement, in the silence, moved to push me on my back as she got up from her back. "Because, Professor, Eternal Love? Was that the title? And who was the love interest? If I didn't forget, it was... Khujin? As brilliant as you are, your naming conventions leaves a lot to be desired, I mean come on, it sounds oddly familiar." She completely pushed me over; I was slightly paralyzed with the discovery that she read what I was writing---it wasn't remotely family friendly, and perhaps, aimed towards her. Her eyes stared at me with knowing eyes, what exactly I desired from her at that moment; her lithe, perky body was positioned between my legs, kneeling, preparing to dip her mouth into eternal lust.
"From then on... Khujin took the face-fucking, dutifully, sexually, despite the size with which she was confronted with, took it. Her mouth ached, was pained, though, not in a conventional way; it ached in the desire to take him deeper." She just... requoted the entire sequence perfectly word-for-word from the paper.
Fuck!
There's nothing left to protect, nothing left to resist, we were unclothed, our secrets revealed, there was nothing left except our mutual wish to ravage each other until dawn. Our enlarged pupils---almost alien---met each other, glazed in some atypical determination. Finally, her head lowered and lowered before her tongue placed a meek lick on my cock. Then kisses, then a mix of licks while her hands clenched my wrists---signaling some sign that I shouldn't interfere, that I should enjoy this requited vindication.
Her mouth---even if virginal---provided some of the greatest relief. Her soft lips, erratic, still provided relief from my swollen tip. Her rookie mistakes, the slight graze of teeth, the meddling tongue only seemed to heighten the experience.
"You're a naughty fucking professor." She said, slightly biting down on the head, getting the intended reaction out of me---a great spasm. "Writing porn of a character that exactly resembles me. Mmmm naughty... so fucking naughty.."
"You're a horny, good-for-nothing student, Yujin."
We were fighting while she shallowly sucked in between her sentences, listening thoughtfully with a cock between her lips.
"I remember when you left that jacket at the library, I stole it. Then, I smelt it everyday, the cologne, the detergent, the natural smell. When you slept around I could smell it, the faint flowery smell alien to your scent."
She released her grip on my wrists, instead grabbing my dick, to better stimulate---to better punish. Her mouth hollowed out, the suction tremendously pleasing, the way she tongued at the underside of my shaft showing her real-time improvement. Then she popped my shaft out of her mouth again.
Somehow, she was angry again.
"Do you have nothing to say?" Yujin asked---irritatingly.
"I'm here now, Yujin."
"Idiot."
Her mouth went back, into the irresistible motions that she quickly figured out. Her head bobbed faster, I felt immensely relieved, yet I also felt an unbelievable greed, a sort of ripple between two identities in parallel, fighting for ultimate control.
I quickly and harshly gripped her hair, led her mouth down to the hilt---her low choke lubricated the hilt. Her fingers lightly tapped the sides of my thighs, with her perfect nails, the smooth skin, such a brave contrast to what was happening to her mouth. Her mouth suctioned again, not a word needed for preparedness, only the motions of our sexual organs were enough. Slowly, my grip on her hair went down to her scalp, a firmer place to grasp, to debase her identity further.
Her lips dragged long and hard, the suction felt stronger---the feeling of pulling out from her mouth harder than going in at this point. Her lips occasionally touched the base on my cock, only edging me closer. Until, I peaked, I growled as the first rope of cum landed deep into her throat. Even in this constricted, breathless stance where her dick was so deep in her throat that her throat reddened, her glazed puppy eyes stared back, almost a sign of some sort of sick victory over me. Then a second splash, the pressure so strong you'd think the flow was laminar---though I wouldn't know, her sexy throat hid it all. My head flew back, the relief of it all so strong, ropes turned into strings, strings turned into nothing---only the sensation of a suckling swallow could be felt on my sensitive tip.
There was no brief awkward silence, her mouth released in a godly erotic fashion. Her spittle still gathered on my cock, the spit strands coating her chin, her tongue clear and empty of the load I covered the insides of her mouth with.
She smiled so brightly - so happily. Her hands patted me on the thighs, trying to help me reconcile the fact that I throat-fucked a college freshman, the age gap already taboo, the fact that we were professor and student - only worsened it.
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Her eyes were slightly red, the hint of tear trails on her face apparent. So badly did I want to hold her dear to my body, let the warmth of my chest keep her snug, let her rest. Yet, her reddened tits, her confused doe-like puppy eyes, her confused face, the slight glistening of her inner thighs goaded me endlessly. From that point on, I hadn't even realized I was hovering over her body. We were really gonna do it, I was gonna fuck her on her own bed, this beautiful, smart student.
"You really are an idiot" I say.
"Why? Because I like you? Because you're some respected higher up that I shouldn't entertain having a relationship with?"
It was that word: relationship. What are we gonna become-
"Eunwoo... master... professor... I don't just offer up my virginity to anyone... if you think I'm that easy to offer myself up to anyone - you're fucking crazy."
"You're a seduction master." I chuckle, letting her know the weakness of my self-control.
"If I'm a seduction master, then you're - I don't know - like Alain Delon." her hands hooked the nape of my neck, she was positioned so delicately, ready for whatever I wanted to do to her.
"I want this because I love you, Eunwoo."
"Who would've thought our little freshman is such a romantic, huh?" As I nuzzled my face into the side of her neck, give soft licks to her soft neck - her soft face a contrast to my stubbled jaw.
"Regardless of whether you insert your shaft inside me or not. I'll still follow you, to the ends of the earth, until you file a restraining order- Ah~!"
a single finger entered her, "Shh Yujin, An Yujin - all that pining to give up after a restraining order? I'll have to get you drunk on my dick, so that even the splitting of the earth won't deter you."
She squeaked, she definitely came, she definitely fucking came - hah. I let the finger exit slow, slowly trailing the wet finger up her abdomen - a sort of trail forming.
Finally, I palmed my dick, staring, realizing that I didn't have a condom. "Oh fuck - I don't have a condom" saying my thought out loud, she butts in, "Doesn't matter, please, anything - please." Her desperation clear in her tone - her fingers gripping dearly onto me.
"Who said anyone's leaving?" This time, her eyes were even wider. It was time, she knew it, I knew it, each step an acceleration to a barrier that we kept raising - was there even a barrier anymore? The depravity... the soulful acknowledgement of this cording relationship rose the hairs on my entire body; the blood in my chest frantically seemed to disperse, trying to control itself, to also control my entire body.
Though, if Yujin is under me, begging to be fucked - so hellbent, her glazed and aroused eyes pleading for some sinful contract. If only she knew - how much I'd do - there needn't be a single contract. I couldn't ever control myself anyway, what's there to deny?
Slowly - slowly - entered her, her sopping wetness gladly parted with some paradoxical resistance. The more I entered, the more her pussy resisted, the more her pussy pulled me in. The most sinful sounds, even more so than those of a minute ago, the squelch of a virgin hole being stretched - fuck, holy fuck.
"Ngghhh~ holy shit, please, more!" She desperately tried to close her mouth, aware of the lack of noise canceling. The way her mewls and moans exited between the tightest clasp of her mouth, the way her twinkled, the exasperation of a different type of pain stretching, beautifying her already goddess-like face. "I love it! Eunwoo~", that earned her a full stroke to the hilt. I grabbed the hand off her mouth - the way her face morphed into fear was beautiful, she was close to her neighbors - those neighbors who were about to hear Yujin's highest shrieks, highest orgasms. Another stroke, then another, I couldn't even describe how sinful her sounds were, shrieks, moans, deep to high - the sheer entropy of her mannerisms clearly showing her arousal. The next door neighbors would know, even the vertical neighbors would know. If they saw me entering her home, then I'm fucked - yet, I can't stop fucking her, the way her hips rotate and drift off my cock, the way her pussy lips wrap so tightly, so snug around my length.
I began pounding away, her thin waist acclimating to my tight grip, the way her breasts bounced when her ass slapped against my loins; who said missionary was boring? The way I kneeled, the way her body angled at a point - true rookie mistake - I kept pounding away at her g-spot. How many times she came - I wouldn't know - but the amount of liquid dispersed all over us, a mix of sweat and whatever else was definitely a clue. The way my length explored her insides so thoroughly, the way I'm pretty sure I bottomed her out, bound to bruise her cervix; the way her moans grew more unhinged, her eyes slowing going back inside her head, her arms almost unresponsive.
Until.
Until, Yujin grabbed onto me, it wasn't an ordinary grip, a nuanced grip that lovers of decades could understand - I'm sure there's some hidden meaning in that. The way her soft fingers grabbed my forearm while she laid down - panting with sweat, the glow of sex, possibly covered in her squirt. I made sure to stop at exactly when the base of my length met with her pussy - immersing myself in her beautiful warmth, sheathed in her velvety walls.
"Eunwoo - please slow down, I'm not going anywhere, by the next half-hour we'll be walking skeletons..."
This time, still plugged with my length I pulled her up, face-to-face where she sat on the slope of my kneel - adjusting myself accordingly to not destroy my knees.
"How could I Yujin? Light of my life, fire of my loin-"
She playfully slapped my shoulder
"Why are you referencing Lolita!?" in a giggling manner, understanding all at once.
"Careful where you slap your hands around, Yujin."
"Hm? What're you gonna do-mm!" A closed reaction to receiving a deep kiss. Slowly, my arms slithered around her back, to make sure that she doesn't fall - but, mostly to ensure that I could fuck her, utterly, fully under my control.
The way her eyes shined, with a deep desire - some atypical lust - yet still somehow looking so innocent, as if brilliant gems were in place of her pupils. Every time I get to stare at her, especially now that our eyes were separated by the width of a nose, I feel glad that someone - just someone like that exists, even better with the fact that we cohabit this area, and even better that our lips slip against each other. The act of exchanging saliva - a deeply disturbing thought - hadn't registered in us at all, only desire and love.
Slowly, her moans left her pretty mouth with emphasis - clearly enjoying the slower pace in which I gave these decrepit kisses to her cervix. Her velvety folds seemed to contract even more spastically - the movement easier, yet tighter, yet harder, parenthetically a paradox.
If only such paradoxes were this pleasurable.
"I'm gonna cum, Yujin." The sounds were absolutely vicious, viscous with the repeated slapping of our loins, the cold strands of her juices landing on my thighs whenever her pink core left the base of my length. "Eunwoo, give it to me, inside, everything." I tried to object; "Eunwoo, shhh, don't try to talk sense with me - it's too late for that, if you don't spill your biggest seed inside me, I'll chase you around the world."
"A restraining order?" I replied, curious for a response.
"And that'll stop me? After getting drunk on your dick, as you said? " She replied back, serious.
"You're right baby." I pumped into her deeper, slanting a little to get topological synchronicity: my chest fully in contact with her chest, the warmth compared to the biting cold of the environment only goading us on further. The way her soft, perky breasts pooled on my chest made my pumps only deeper - kisses more passionate.
"What if I do? What if I cum inside you?" Our eyes were level, engaging in a seriously serious topic. All care should've been granted to the topic - of course, we both knew the pending event.
"Then, presumably, understandably, I'll be by your side - with your favorite tea, massaging your soreness. And maybe, just maybe, nursing a little Eunwoo." Fuck! I hugged her tight - too tight. The small of her back caved in with my tight hug as I mashed my dick inside her swollen pussy. The way she moaned was less noticeable, she was so focused on receiving the load - breathing into the side of my neck, playing with my hair, exacting some stimuli to wring me out dry.
Her body perfectly molded into my force. Her ass molded against my tough thighs, her hard nipples poked my chest expectedly. When, just when, the hypothetical situation with Yujin - of a filial future - flashed in my mind, the first release of semen launched inside her. Ribbons of her deepest desire filled her - indulging her. We kissed - the natural course as expected when I released inside her.
Ropes of semen turned into strings, then finally - nothing. We embraced each other, I still hugged her just as tight, she hugged back with the delicacy of an angel.
"Yujin..."
"Holy shit." She replied.
Holy shit was right.
"-Like holy fucking shit." I emphatically replied.
Her gem-like pupils looked at me, her entire face turned into a smile.
"You'll have to call me wife from now on."
"Hm?" Fully not processing her request.
"Call me wife behind closed doors."
"Why?"
"Because.. why not?"
After a swift thought - one that didn't really have any substance at all - "Wife... wife... rolls off the tongue nicely."
She gave a peck on my lips, "make sure that it rolls off the tongue as easy as it does now... I'll want to hear it everyday."
"Wifey... who's cleaning the bed?" I jokingly inquired - of course, the truth was that the bed wouldn't dry in a day, and the way we are right now: the overflowing semen was still plugged inside her - with my cock.
Though, that would be a worry that could be taken care of later. Right now, the half-life of our post-sex fatigue finished - the other half to be finished when our lips met again.
Fin.
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kbwrites · 3 months ago
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Please Me!
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synopsis: choso had fought battles and witnessed many horrors—yet nothing quite compared to the way his heart would race when you were near.
⚝ content: virgin!choso x f!reader, nsfw, oral (giving and receiving), praise kink, MOMMY KINK
⚝ a/n: never wrote for choso, hopefully this hits
⚝ wc: 1.8k
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There’s only so much that advice can really help. Only so much that late-night tv channels can really prepare you. And that’s what Choso soon found out as he laid stiff as a board on the bed of his dorm. You, his darling girlfriend, were completely absorbed in the TV show you were watching. And completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.
Choso was new to a lot of things—being alive, streaming platforms, that weird feeling when you wave back at someone who wasn’t waving at you. He had fought battles, witnessed many horrors—yet nothing quite compared to the way his heart would race when you were near.
His honey-colored eyes steal glances, captivated by the way your lips part slightly as you focus on the TV. The soft glow from the screen highlights the curves of your supple skin exposed by your tank top and shorts. He can't help but notice the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest with each steady breath. Forget whatever’s on the screen; YOU were more entertaining than any show could ever be.
He takes in a shaky breath, feeling the blood rush from his brain. He was grateful for his blood manipulation more than anything right now—redirecting the flow elsewhere.
In the time before he met you, Choso had jerked off maybe three times. Once as curiosity got the better of him and then another time when he accidentally found the magazines his younger brother kept under his bed. The third time was right after a pool party, when he saw you for the first time in a bikini. He began touching himself almost daily after that, whining out sweet cries of your name as thick spurts cum leaked out of him.
And now that you were his girlfriend? It was even worse. He felt bad of course, unsure of how to approach you with these new emotions. Would you push him away? Think he was a pervert?
So he resorted to cumming to just the thought of you.
“Hello? Did you wanna order some food Cho?” He’s snapped out of his thoughts, heart thumping in his chest. Had you been talking to him the whole time? He took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure before nodding.
“Yeah… Pizza?” His voice wavers, trying to sound casual. You nod in agreement and climb onto his lap, peering over his shoulder at the phone as he fumbles with the delivery website. As you settle against him, his entire body freezes, every muscle tensing at the unexpected closeness. Your warmth against him makes his breath hitch, he can barely focus on the screen. The softness of your body pressed so close, combined with the gentle scent of your shampoo, makes it nearly impossible for him to think straight.
He finally manages to place the order, setting his phone down with a sigh of relief. His shaky hands, almost involuntarily, come to rest on your thighs, fingers barely grazing the soft fabric of your shorts.
“I-it’s done..” He breathes, looking up at you. You respond with a warm smile of appreciation, leaning down to give him a soft, gentle peck. The unexpected touch sends a jolt through him, and he moans almost instantly, a wave of embarrassment washing over him as he hears the sound escape his lips.
Kissing was normal, one of Choso’s favorite things to do after cuddling you. But tonight, with the warmth of your body pressing against him and the softness of your lips lingering on his, he found himself yearning for something deeper.
“Baby…” His voice is low and laden with longing, the word barely escaping his lips as he gazes into your eyes. You look at him expectantly.
“Can I… touch you?” The question catches you off guard, a quiet gasp escaping your lips. His golden eyes are filled with a pleading intensity you haven’t seen before. His hands, though hesitant, move slowly under your shorts, fingers gently squeezing the plush of your inner thigh with a needy touch.
“You mean…”
“Yes.” He interrupts you, his voice anxious and earnest. “Is that okay?”
You nod looking down at him, his pupils fully dilated a faint blush dusted around his tattooed face. He pulls you closer to him, groaning as you brushed his clothed erection. His lips latch onto your neck, feverishly sucking and licking your skin.
“I’ll be so good… I promise. Make you feel so good.” He mumbles into your skin. Your hands find his broad shoulders, holding onto him for support. Choso feels a rush of excitement as his hands roam your body, trailing hot kisses down your neck to your collarbone. His large hands snake under your top, exploring the skin of your chest.
He looks up at you as his fingers caress your breasts, pinching and flicking experimentally to see your reaction. His gaze eager as he takes note of what makes you make those deliciously addicting noises. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing the music to his ears as you whimper under his touch. Pulling away, his breath comes out in ragged gasps.
“Is this okay?” his voice low and husky as his index and thumb rolled over your hardened bud.
“Yes.. keep going. Such a good boy~” You gasp raking your hands through his hair. Choso swears his heart stops when the words escape your plump lips. His cock straining against his pants at the praise. Hips buck up, grinding against your clothed cunt.
“F-fuck.. Yes, I’m a good boy…” He purrs lifting your shirt up over your head. Choso takes a moment to drink in the sight before delving into your chest. Licking and sucking, your boyfriend slobbers greedily on your tits making you moan and whimper. He growls lowly as he latches onto your nipple, tongue swirling around as he hungrily sucks.
Coming up for air he parts, a trail of spit dripping from his mouth.
“Please… need more. Can I have more?” His words come out in jumbled fragments, strained and desperate as his hands roam eagerly across your body. Your mind is hazy, skin on fire as you feel your back hit the cool fabric of the mattress. Your boyfriend climbs on top of you, looking down through half-lidded eyes.
“Cho… please..” You whine, squirming under him, your thighs squeeze together desperately trying to calm the heat pooling in your core.
“Please what baby? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” His hands moving down your body, resting at the waistband of your shorts. You nod approval as he tugs at the fabric pulling them down your legs. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes fixated on your cunt. Staring in awe… so much better than he had imagined. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he eyes your wet entrance hungrily.
“Can I taste you?”
“Yes Cho—” before you can even finish your thought he laps greedily at your folds, slurping up all of your slick as he explores your cunt with his mouth. His technique is sloppy, but damn it's intoxicating as his tongue licks and swirls around your clit like a man starved. He looks up at you through hooded eyes, completely drunk off of your taste. His hands grip your thighs pulling your closer onto his face, his nose bumping against the bundle of nerves as his wet muscle teases your weeping hole. 
“So good… tastes soo fuckin’ good.” His eyes roll back as your body arches against the mattress. You feel your body get hot as he continues lapping at your cunt. You mewled praises to your boyfriend making him moan, vibrations against your skin.
“Chosooo” You whine as his slender finger is sucked into your walls. He pumps in and out slowly, gauging your reaction. “Oh my goddd.” You cry out, knuckles white from gripping the bed sheets.  His mouth leaves your clit watching curiously as his finger enters your hole. Completely captivated by the way your pussy sucks him in.
“Fuck.. princess are you close? Tell me you’re close…” He whines grinding his clothed cock into the bed. He moves his thumb to circle your swollen pearl.
You nod, whimpering under his touch. “Close Cho~” Is all you can muster.
“Yeah? Me too baby me too.” He groans bucking his hips into the mattress. 
The building pressure finally bursts as your walls clench around Choso’s finger. He watches in pure amazement as your body shivers and writhes underneath me, slowly removing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. Cum painting the inside of his boxers as he licks them clean. 
He climbs on top of you, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you catch your breath. He presses his erection into you, your eyes travel to the wet spot forming in your boyfriend’s jeans.
“Choso… did you?” He follows your gaze to his jeans, a wave of embarrassment flushing across his face as he moves off of you.
“I.. yeah. I did...” His tone sheepish as his cheeks flushed darker. “I couldn’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.. and— and hot.” He looked away, heart racing. You smile at him, crawling between his legs. He lets out a soft whine as your hand palms his hard-on.
“W-what are you doing?” His voice mixed with surprise and arousal. He watched your hands, his breath coming in short gasps as you fumbled with the button and zipper the anticipation of your slow movements making his brain foggy. “Fuck.. please. Touch me mommy.” His hips lifting as you removed his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free from its confines.
And what a marvelous cock it was. Not too thick but long, flushed rosy tip that was still leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. You stared at his length hungrily. Choso feels himself get bashful under your gaze.
“Is something wrong?” He questions, you can only chuckle in return. How could he not be aware his dick was so pretty?
Your hand wraps around his throbbing length, pumping slowly as you watch him squirm. His back arches, gripping onto the sheets as he lets out pretty whimpers.
“Does that feel good baby?” You coo as he nods furiously, biting his bruised lip.
“Yesyes.. Fuck m-mommy feels.. Goddd sogoodsofuckinggood.” He cries out, cock overstimulated from already cumming. The intense pleasure rendering him unable to form coherent sentences. His body quivers feeling your soft hands stroke him, struggling to speak as his voice comes out as a shaky, gasped plea.
“Need to cum..” Choso whines as his face flushes. “Pleaseplease gonna—” He whimpers. Seed shooting out, hot spurts flowing down his shaft and your hand. Your tongue lolls out, tasting him as he throws his head back against the bedframe. His strong arms pull you onto him, pulling you into sloppy kiss as his tongue darts out to taste himself on you. You grin as you feel his cock twitch under you. He pulls back slightly, panting as his hands dig into the fat of your hips. Choso’s hips buck up into you as he grinds his growing erection into your cunt. You had created a monster, that much was certain.
“Need to feel you baby… ALL of you.”
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bluebeary-jay · 1 month ago
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A promise softly sung
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Astarion x f!Reader/Tav
Summary: before the battle that will decide his fate, Astarion is terrified of losing you to Cazador. you comfort him after a nightmare. (set at the beginning of act 3)
Tags: hurt/comfort, BIG angst and some fluff, poor boy doesn't believe he's deserving of love :( let's hold him until he changes his mind
Warnings: mentions of trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, memories of past abuse and torture, c*zador, being unable to move (briefly), tadpoles mention (idk if that's a trigger)
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: hiiiiiiiii my darlings <33 soo this is something else from what i usually write but i finished bg3 recently and i LOVED IT but i'm on a trip rn so in the absence of my pc i found some inner inspiration to write something again. honestly i missed writing very much but i had the biggest block for almost a year now but maybe it'll get better now that my classes are starting again and i'll be needing a distraction lmao. anyway comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and don't be shy to send in a request! and as always, happy reading!!! <3
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He was there again.
Astarion loathed those hard, stone walls as much as he feared them. It was here that he once spent an entire night, having infernal script meticulously carved into his skin. It was here that he was punished every time he disappointed his master, every time he didn’t do well enough on his mission. It was here that he was reminded time and time again how worthless, pathetic and meaningless his existence was. It was here he returned in almost all of his nightmares.
But now you were here, too.
Astarion couldn’t believe this, but no matter how much he blinked or willed himself to wake up, the view before his eyes didn’t change. It was you, chained by the wrists to the ceiling where he was hanging so many times before, your toes just barely scraping the ground that was already splattered with your blood. Your clothes were ripped to shreds and cuts and bruises covered almost every inch of your skin. Astarion wanted to run up to you, to get you somewhere safe and far away from this place, but he found that he was unable to move. It wasn’t shock seizing up his limbs, but magical paralysis which he had experienced a couple of times during combat. Even though he knew it was a spell that was holding him in place, he still fought against it with all the strength he could muster – but to no avail.
Your eyes, full of tears and fear, met his briefly before you looked past him at someone else.
“Ah, my sweet, insolent boy,” whispered a voice straight from Astarion’s deepest, darkest nightmares, causing him to tense up in terror. A hand – pale, all too familiar in its deceptive tenderness – brushed his jaw from behind before grabbing his hair roughly. The vampire spawn could do nothing but watch as his head was tilted back and he came face to face with his master.
No, it can’t be… How was Cazador here? How were you here?!
“You’ve been a very bad boy, Astarion,” Cazador tutted, shaking his head. “Running away like that, not returning home for months… It’s no way to treat family, isn’t it?” Astarion felt a sharp sting of his master’s quarterstaff at his back, digging into the scars made by the same hand, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. “But I’ll forgive you… eventually. After all, you brought me this delectable treat…”
Both him and Cazador looked up at you when Astarion realized what – or rather, who – that bastard was talking about. He tried shaking his head, tried begging for him not to hurt you, but he still couldn’t move, his voice was still stuck past his throat and no word or sound came out. In the meantime, Cazador stood up, walking around his spawn to stand in front of you.
“His own survival was always the most important thing to him,” Cazador said almost pitifully, and only after a moment Astarion realized that this time, he was speaking to you. “He’s a selfish, contemptuous creature, after all. Say, did he tell you he loved you before he lured you here like so many others before you? Did he lie, swearing how much you mean to him?”
“Yes, he… he did.”
Astarion prayed to any higher being that it was just the power of another spell compelling you to say that, and not what you were really thinking. He tried to struggle against his own magical restraints, but whatever scroll or verbal command was used, it was far too powerful for the vampire to beat it with sheer willpower alone. He was helpless again – but worse than that, he was forced to watch you being at Cazador’s mercy, too, all while he couldn’t do anything to save you.
“I honestly didn’t think poor Astarion had it in him,” Cazador continued calmly, gliding gracefully around you and disappearing behind your back. Your own eyes, now full of hurt and betrayal, were trained on Astarion’s. He couldn’t turn away, but in the corner of his vision the elf saw a flash of a blade against your bare skin. “To give away one person who, for some strange reason, saw good in a filthy worm like him… But I’m so very proud of you, sweetling.” Cazador looked at him over your shoulder and licked his lips, so, so dangerously close to your neck. “You’ll live to serve me for centuries to come, and you can watch your lover take your place in my ritual… You did well, Astarion.”
No, Astarion cried in the prison of his own body, unable to reach you or to even stop Cazador from spilling lies into your ears. Not her, no, no, please–
“No!”
Cazador smiled widely and sank his teeth into your fragile neck, and you screamed, still looking at Astarion with this horrible hatred in your eyes…
“No, no, please! Take me, please, just don’t–”
“My love, it’s alright, you’re safe…”
“Stop! Please, just–!”
His body suddenly jerked painfully and his eyes shot open, darting around in confusion and trying to figure out where he was. Astarion wasn’t feeling the cold frigid air of the kennels anymore – instead his skin was almost hot, and damp from sweat, but there was something smooth and soft under his back… the sheets. He was in a bed, at an inn. Still panting heavily, he looked around, noting the details in his surroundings: the crooked chandelier, a little window with curtains drawn shut, his shirt hung neatly over the back of the chair… and your shoes right next to it.
At the memory of your battered and tortured body in Cazador’s dungeon, Astarion shot up with a belated sob, almost knocking you over in the process. Only when your warm hand left his cheek did he notice your presence. You were kneeling next to him on the mattress, expression worried and sorrowful, with the last traces of sleep just leaving the edge of your vision. His red eyes scanned your body, but there were no bruises, no cuts made by Cazador’s wretched blade, no burns on your wrists from the manacles he saw you in mere moments ago.
And there was no hatred in your gaze. Only love and care he didn’t deserve.
Astarion’s eyes filled with tears, but before he could run out of the room or hide under the bed, you opened your arms, gently offering him the solace within. And he, being the selfish, contemptuous creature that he was, didn’t deny himself what he wasn’t worthy of.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, petting his hair softly, while the other hand was – as always – mindful of the scars on his back. “It was a dream, my love. You’re safe here with us.”
His body shook with quiet sobs as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the soothing scent of your skin and your blood singing to him just beneath. He saw again before his eyes the way Cazador looked at him before he bit you, right in this place he was now so close to…
To give away one person who, for some strange reason, saw good in a filthy worm like him…
“I’m sorry,” Astarion choked out, finding his voice at last, which made you pause in your ministrations. “I’m so sorry f-for not doing anything… He…”
You were quiet for a couple of seconds, but then Astarion felt the most tender touch of your lips on the crown of his head, and he buried his face more into your chest.
“I’m here, darling,” you whispered. “Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real.”
He didn’t answer, instead lifting his arm and tentatively brushing his fingers just underneath your shirt. He didn’t feel any scars mirroring his own, but could still see the blood flowing from your back and down your legs, could still hear your painful scream… It brought fresh tears to his eyes again.
“I… I swear, I would never do that,” he attempted to explain himself, but his words came out in a pathetic sob, and he shook his head again, curling in on himself. “He– he was lying. I’d never…”
A fresh wave of tears wetted your shirt, but you didn’t seem to mind as you gently rocked him back and forth, cradling him safe in your arms. Old Astarion would probably scoff at the condescending action of being treated like an infant, but he knew better now. He still found it difficult, but with you at his side he was learning what true care and affection looked like, and how to accept it. You were always so patient with him, so gentle, never rushing or angry when he couldn’t give you the closeness and intimacy you deserved. Astarion loved that about you – even if he wasn’t ready to say it out loud just yet.
“My star…” you hesitated, but ultimately asked, “what did you dream about?”
The vampire took a shaky breath, unable to open his eyes or speak about what he saw. Instead, he called on the tadpole in his brain and nudged your mind with it, wordlessly asking for permission, which you immediately granted. There was at least one thing the tadpole was good for, he thought as you lived through the nightmare his weak, broken mind had conjured. If by the gods’ grace all of them managed to get rid of the tadpoles and survive this whole ordeal… and if by some miracle you still wanted to stay with him after all was done… Astarion knew he would have to learn how to communicate his feelings on his own. But not tonight. Not tonight.
You didn’t say anything for a long while, only continuing to hold him close to your chest. In this position he could hear the soothing beat of your heart, proving that he didn’t lead you to Cazador, that he didn’t turn you into a monster like him…
“We’re gonna kill him,” you finally said with your throat tight from emotions. “I promise you, as soon as we get to the Baldur’s Gate, we’ll find him and end him for good.”
Astarion knew what he should say – he should agree, or maybe jest that this is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said, or even argue that it’s not going to be that easy.
But all he could do right now was to continue clinging to you like a child, too afraid to face you.
“I’d never give you away,” he breathed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure you heard it, but he didn’t care. “Even if I had to suffer another two hundred years. I’d never–”
“I know, my darling,” you whispered back, and Astarion felt your own tears disappearing in his white locks. He still couldn’t believe why someone like you would waste your tears on him of all people, and it caused a new kind of pain to bloom in his chest. “And you’re not those things he told you. You’re… you’re everything to me, Astarion. Everything.”
Astarion wondered if he’d ever believe that. You proved to him time and time again that you can make anything possible, even change the worldview of someone like him… but with Cazador’s threat still looming, he didn’t have it in him to try and convince himself of your words.
Maybe after the bastard's dead, he concluded. Maybe then it’ll get easier and he can finally start becoming someone deserving of you.
You stirred slightly, breaking him out of his musings. Astarion hugged you tighter, sharply stopping you from moving away.
“Please. Don’t go.”
You just leaned back on the pillow and kissed his head gently again. Astarion felt the tension in his body melting away just a little, but the tears welled up again in his eyes.
“I won’t. Promise.”
And you kept your promise. Astarion didn’t fall asleep again, but your constant heartbeat under his cheek brought him some semblance of peace as he waited for the sun to rise. It didn’t feel right to let you care for him so much, to gift and envelop him with your love that he didn’t deserve… But it’d be even more wrong to take that choice away from you. He knew all about that, after all, and he'll be damned if he ever treats you the way he was treated.
So Astarion decided that he will let you love him and he will love you in return, for as long as you allow it.
Because, truth be told, he was nothing if not a selfish, contemptuous creature.
634 notes · View notes
jeonsweetpea · 1 year ago
Text
Devoted to Trouble
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Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst
rating: explicit
description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?
word count: 11.5k
warnings: Seven JK… need I say more? JK being a SIMP, JK being a flirt, the entirety of the Seven MV being Peter Parker/Spider-Man coded, JK being a dork, JK is persistent and annoying but in an endearing way, fake death, cursing, the most respectable fuck boy!JK, he just loves you so much
smut warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), standing 69, dirty talk, protected sex, face-riding, breast play, strength kink, standing sex, missionary, serpent’s embrace, that line from his working out live, multiple orgasms, sir kink, 
a/n: Hello! IT IS DONE. My two loves combined in one, Spider-Man + Jungkook! I just love the idea of JK being such an unserious Spider-Man/Peter Parker who only loves you and wants you and voila! He is your lovesick loser. :))) I sure hope you love him as much as I do. Feel free to let me know what you think! Thank you for reading. 
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Monday
You didn’t know why you bothered dressing up for dinner when the end goal was to turn Jungkook down. After his identity was revealed to the public (source unknown), panic set in, and you realized that a future together was not possible. However, out of courtesy, you decided not to flake on the date after promising him. The boy was ecstatic, and deep down, you suspected his ego loved the fact he won over someone like you, who had consistently turned him down.
As you approached the restaurant door, someone unexpectedly rushed past you to open it himself. Startled by the sudden action, you jumped in surprise. 
“Jungkook? Oh my god, you scared me!” you exclaimed. He offered an apologetic smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You noticed his heavy breathing, wondering if he had exerted himself. “Did you run here?”
“Yeah, I was stopping a heist nearby and didn’t want you to wait long,” he replied.
Your heart softened at his thoughtfulness, but it also served as a reminder of why a future together would be challenging. “You didn’t have to waste your stamina. I just got here.”
“Trust me, babe. I have plenty of stamina.” 
His mischievous grin earned an eye roll from you as you entered the restaurant. Following closely behind, he effortlessly secured a table for the two of you, thanks to his well-established reputation. The table was smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, where guests took advantage and began gawking and whispering about you two. You did your best to ignore them while Jungkook hurriedly pulled out your chair and took his place across from you. 
“Thank you.”
It was impossible to ignore his striking appearance. He exuded an irresistible charm in his black leather jacket and white graphic tee, his long hair partially parted, his lip piercing accentuating his stupidly handsome face. He was pure temptation, staring you straight in the face, but you had to remain strong.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he commented, his gaze momentarily glancing at your cleavage before meeting your eyes once more. You scoffed, though deep down you knew the dress you hugged your figure perfectly. 
“Really? My boobs?” you retorted.
“What? Am I not supposed to admire them when they’re so perfect and right in front of me?” he playfully responded. 
“At least try to be subtle.”
“I don’t want to be. There’s no reason to hide my appreciation when I’m in the presence of someone so beautiful. I want you to know that every single day.”
A rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. You’re… pretty beautiful yourself.”
“Aw, thanks,” he quipped, executing a dramatic hair flip. “I know.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, eliciting a smile from him. He took joy in making you laugh. However, you quickly cleared your throat, keeping your objective in mind. 
“So Jungkook um… I have something to tell you,” you began. 
“Okay, cool. I do too.”
“I want to go first. I—”
Unfortunately, the waiter interrupted at that moment, inquiring about your drink preferences. Jungkook swiftly ordered two glasses of red wine and then refocused his attention on you.
“You were saying?”
“I um… I need a drink. Let me have a drink first before I say anything,” you nervously said, mentally kicking yourself for being such a chicken. 
“Okay, then can I go first?”
“Sure.”
“Will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?”
The question caught you off guard, causing you to almost choke on nothing. You hadn’t anticipated him asking that until after the date. Damn. He was derailing your plan. 
As the waiter came back with the two glasses of wine and placed them on the table, he asked you what you wanted to eat. Jungkook asked for a moment to look over the menu before the waiter left. 
“So? What do you say?” he asked, flashing you that cheeky grin of his. You had to stand up for yourself and express your true feelings to him. This was a waste of time and he had to understand that, despite what your heart desired. 
“Jungkook, I came here for one reason and one reason only.”
He lowered his head and shook it, sensing that whatever you were about to say wouldn't be something he wanted to hear. “Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good. The date just started, love. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward?”
"No, well, yes, but that's not the point. I just—this is a waste of time. It won’t work out between us,” you stammered. 
He raised his head, still shaking his head in denial. “How do you know if we don’t try?”
“I’m not interested in being in a relationship.”
“Really? Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so. We’re done.”
He narrowed his eyes and chuckled, amused by your determination. “Break me off another time, darling. Let’s see how the evening goes first, hmm?”
You had to fight that tingle in your body every time he called you a nickname. “Let me make it crystal clear. I am not interested in being with a superhero.”
“Ah, there it is. Babe, don’t worry. I won’t let my Spider-Man duties affect us.”
You rested your elbows on the table and gestured with your hands as you expressed your frustrations.
“But they will. Sorry, but superheroes aren’t boyfriend material. They always end up suffering. I don’t want to spend everyday worrying about you getting hurt or possibly dying. Shoot, I don’t want to die. You’re not even the slightest bit worried about your enemies coming here right now? I’m afraid for my life!”
You observed his face for any sign of a reaction, noticing his eyes wandering the room as his lips moved slightly. Straining your ears, you could hear him humming the tune of the song playing in the restaurant.
“Are you seriously singing right now?!” you asked, enraged at him not taking you seriously. In that instant, some of the lights flickered and the ground trembled, causing the wine glasses on the shelves in the back to wobble. Another powerful shake startled the elderly couple at the table next to yours, prompting them to stand up in shock.
Jungkook stopped humming and offered you a warm smile. “Sorry, it was a catchy song. I was listening.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yes, I was. Babe, nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of that.”
“You can’t be sure of that. You’re not psychic.”
“No, but I’m Spider-Man. I’ll protect you. Look, I get it. It’s scary and I know you’ve been let down before in the past from other guys. But I’ll love you right.” The way he spoke with a pout was killing you.
“No. It won’t work out.”
“... Then let me fuck you right,” You gave him a judgemental glare and he added on, “All day everyday. Seven days a week.”
He even put up seven fingers to emphasize his point. 
“Okay, that’s a big proposition that not even you could fulfill.”
“Well let me fulfill that sweet pussy of yours tonight and you’ll see.”
“Good god, Jeon! How are you so nonchalant about your identity being revealed?!”
You found yourself leaning back in your chair, utterly stunned, as a chandelier plummeted from the ceiling. The resounding crash failed to startle either of you because of how engrossed you were in the conversation. Jungkook shrugged at your question. 
“Because, at the end of the day, I’m still me. I’m human. I pay rent, I buy groceries—living my life like any other person. I’m not letting this identity thing stop me from doing what I love. Which hopefully includes you in this case,” he replied with a flirtatious wink. 
Frustration mixed with a tinge of concern welled up within you as you rose from your seat. He had just dropped the “L” word and so casually too. You didn’t know how to handle it. In that moment, a much larger explosion erupted directly behind you, causing you to cower in fear. Although the debris lightly brushed against your back, you stumbled. However, Jungkook swiftly caught you in his lap, flashing a bright smile as if this was a normal occurrence. Which for him, sure, but not for you. 
“Are you okay?” he asked.
You bit your lip, struggling to articulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence and decided to leave. Jungkook followed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulder. In frustration, you spun around, attempting to shake him off.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about!”
“Are you okay?” he repeated, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. 
“... Yes. But we won’t work out. I’m sorry.”
This time, you exited the restaurant, and Jungkook let you. Then, he used his web shooters to leap through the hole created by the explosion, determined to put an end to whoever was causing the chaos. 
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Tuesday
The next morning you swiftly prepared for work and hurried to the train station. As luck would have it, the doors opened for you just in time as a herd of people got off. You seized the opportunity to hop on and secured the first available seat you saw.
Putting on an earbud and playing some calming music, you closed your eyes and gathered your thoughts, which were primarily of one person—Jungkook. Of course you wanted to be with him. He was everything a girl would want. 
You had initially met him at a friend’s birthday party, where his flirtatious nature was hard to miss. Yes, he had a reputation and had been around a lot, but that didn’t bother you much. Sometimes you wished you had the guts to separate love and sex like that, but you couldn’t. For you, intimacy was intertwined with emotional connection and a shared future.
And Jungkook wasn't like that, it seemed. Of course he was fun to talk to, you had even exchanged numbers that night. Because of his constant advances, you sensed that he might only be interested in a physical relationship. That thought made you apprehensive, so you turned him down twice (yes, it took every ounce of strength in your body to do so) to prevent getting too close. 
“I don’t do one-night stands, Jeon.”
“Can you do seven-night stands?”
“I can’t stand you.”
“But I really like you.”
Nevertheless, Jungkook remained a great friend who was there for you when you needed him, despite his constant advances. The two of you supported each other and lent an ear during challenging times. Him being Spider-Man made so much sense because you remembered the many times he’d show up late, but he always had a gift for you to make up for it, whether it was a small snack, the keychain you’ve been eyeing online, a pin of the place you dreamed of traveling to—he was always thoughtful in that way. 
You recalled the times he’d show up with random scars and bruises, claiming he got them from work (which wasn’t a total lie), but now you knew which work he was really referring to. It worried you, but he’d brush off your worries by telling you he was okay. Still, you’d trace the scars in concern with your finger, the two of you soon locking eyes, knowing there was something more. 
Unfortunately, your rough dating history prevented you from letting others in as easily as you used to. You always expected disappointment because that way you could never truly be disappointed. Yet somewhere along the way, he managed to break down your defenses, and your walls crumbled.
If Jungkook could be described in one word, it’d be genuine. He was sincere in everything he said, everything he did, giving his all. He knew you better than you knew yourself, almost like you had met him in another life.
The third time he asked you out for dinner, you finally caved. It might’ve had something to do with his heartfelt message that morning, describing a dream of you two dating and his immense happiness (the dude sent you a whole essay for goodness sakes). You were a sucker for such heartfelt gestures and realized you were ready to love again. 
But then everything changed when his identity as Spider-Man was revealed. Dating a hero was something you couldn't allow yourself to do, and rejecting him was the right decision for both of you. Even if you missed him.
Suddenly, the commotion from nearby startled you, causing your eyes to flutter open to an unexpected sight. Outside the train window, Jungkook dangled against the glass with the biggest cheeky grin. He waved at you as if it were a completely normal situation.
“Hi [Y/N]!!!” he shouted. You put your hands on your head in distress. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, your loud voice prompting some people to retreat to another corner, allowing you a clearer view of the audacious arachnid. 
“I wanted to see you!!!” His words were muffled, barely audible with the glass being a barrier.
“What?” you said, cupping your ear, struggling to hear him clearly. 
Jungkook repeated his words, this time speaking slower and accentuating his lip movements. As he did so, he used his free hand to illustrate his words. 
"I," he pointed at himself, "Wanted," he gestured by rubbing his heart, "To," he pointed with his index and middle finger at his eyes and then at you, "See you!"
Feeling embarrassed and exasperated, you rolled your eyes and directed your gaze towards the ceiling. Deciding to move to another cart on the train, you began walking away. However, Jungkook hoisted himself up to the top and walked in tandem with you. Eventually, you settled into another seat, assuming he had given up, only to find his cheerful face peering at you upside-down from behind.
“Ahhh!!!” you screamed, almost shitting your pants from the surge of fright. 
“I MISS YOU!” he exclaimed. 
“For god sakes, leave me alone, you idiot!”
“I can be your idiot!”
Finally reaching your destination, you bolted out of there, with Jungkook persistently following in your footsteps. Once you got to the donut shop you worked at, you were completely out of breath. 
“Hey [Y/N]. Are you running a marathon or something?” Your manager, Jin, tossed you an apron and you somehow caught it. 
“No. Crazy. Man. Stalking me,” you said in between breaths. Jin grabbed the nearest object, which was a feather duster, wielding it with exaggerated finesse. You hurriedly positioned yourself behind him and put on the apron, keeping a close eye on the entrance. As expected, Jungkook swung into view, striking a perfect pose at the front.
“Wait, is that who I think it is?” Jin said. Jungkook entered your workplace with a bright and mischievous grin. “Oh my god! It’s Spider-Man!”
“Hey~. You weren't going to hit me with that were you? Or were you going to give me a thorough dusting?” Jungkook quipped. Jin immediately hid the feather duster behind his back, letting out a nervous laugh.
“No, I would never hit the famous Spider-Man, Seoul’s greatest hero. Can you sign some T-Shirts for me later? Maybe even sign my face and make it more handsome?”
“Sure.”
You dropped your jaw in disbelief and Jin gave you a stern look. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go serve him!”
“What? He’s the crazy person who keeps following me!”
“He’s going to skyrocket our sales in a day, go go go!”
You let out a groan and approached Jungkook with a defeated posture. "Please follow me this way," you said with a tone of dejection.
“Don’t slouch!” Jin scolded. You straightened up as Jungkook trailed behind you towards a table. Your acute hearing caught the stares and whispers of the few customers who were already there.
“So… Ms. [Y/N], is it?” Jungkook said, even going so far as to squint to look at your nametag. “Pretty name.”
“You know my name.”
“I know you’re into me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, that’s the plan. If I could, it'd be every hour, every minute, every second.” 
“Geez, this is harassment,” you said, trying to maintain a steady tone. “What do you want to drink, sir?”
“Sir? I like how that sounds.” Disgust twisted your face as you regretted letting that word slip, a habit from your long tenure at the place.
“Jungkook, either order or get out.”
“Are you on the menu?”
“You’re such a troublemaker. I’m getting you a different server.” He burst into laughter, raising his hands as if caught in the act. 
“Okay, okay. I’m kidding. I’ll have an Americano.”
“Great. Be right back.”
“Yay!”
“Shut up.”
“Aw.”
You quickly got his drink ready (having half a mind to spit in it but realized he’d probably enjoy that so you refrained) and returned to hand it over. 
“Is this the to-go cup?”
“Ah, very observant. It’s because I want you ‘to-go.’ Out the door. Right there,” you said, pointing to the exit. 
“Well, just for that, I think I’ll stick around longer if you know what I mean,” he teased, emphasizing the word “stick” with a wink.
“Jungkook please. I’m working here.”
“Can we just talk?”
“I don’t have anything left to say.”
“Not even to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? I know you must have some questions. Like why is he so lovable, kind, handsome—”
“Tries to get in everybody’s pants?” you finished for him. 
“That’s not true. I haven’t gotten into yours.”
“I knew that’s the only reason you kept asking me out.”
He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. You should know I think more highly of you than that, babe. I care about you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not interested, Jungkook. Find someone else.”
“Why? I thought we were hitting it off so well.”
“If by hitting it off you mean you stopped hooking up with anything that had a pulse until I came into the picture, then yeah, we hit it off.”
“Hey, I was proving to you that I was serious. About you, about us. I’m devoted.”
“Gee, thanks for keeping it in your pants for that long. You deserve a trophy.” 
“Nah, but if you’re offering to be one, I can’t say no.”
“I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that. I’m not some prize to be won.”
“I know. I’m just saying I’d worship you.”
You tried not to get flustered at his words. Just then, a swarm of reporters, paparazzi, and fans barged in, and Jungkook stepped in front of you, shielding you from the camera flashes.
“You’re Spider-Man, right?” one of the reporters in the front asked. 
“Yeah. So what?” Jungkook replied, showcasing a camera-ready smile that made everyone swoon.
“Is that your girlfriend?” a photographer asked. Jungkook extended his hand behind him, pulling you close and positioning you securely on his back, almost like a shield.
"Well, we're still a work in progress."
"So, that's a no then?"
“I’m not giving up. She has me wrapped around her finger.”
“Are you gonna have his spider babies?” a fan shouted from the back. You covered your face, mortified, while Jungkook chuckled. Luckily, Jin diverted the attention of the crowd by demanding they give him free publicity for the donut shop or else they’d have to take their services elsewhere. You begged Jungkook to leave and he obliged, but not before giving you a playful wink.
“I’ll see you again.”
“Please don’t.”
“Seven days a week. That’s a promise.”
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Wednesday
“H—” 
“Don’t talk to me.”
Seriously, the laundromat? He couldn’t even let you do your most hated chore in peace? You yanked each piece of clothing out of the machine, aggressively stuffing them into the basket you had while he sat nonchalantly behind you on another machine. 
“Come on, babe. I’m offering all of me to you.”
“Not interested.”
You walked away from him, placing your basket on another machine's surface, preparing to fold your clothes on the table. Naturally, he trailed after you like a devoted puppy.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re Spider-Man. It’s not a good idea for us to be involved with each other.”
“You’re still on that?”
You folded your shirt, shooting him a glare, despising how effortlessly he rocked his torn jeans, pale blue hoodie, and crisp white tanktop. He had such a gentle beauty that drove you crazy, especially with that soft puppy dog gaze of his. Why did the universe have to serve you the most attractive man on earth on a silver platter, knowing you couldn’t have him?
“Still on that..? Still on that?! I seriously can’t stand you!” you shouted, throwing your shirt aside in frustration. As you stormed away, you suddenly felt a splash on your ankle. Looking down, you realized the place was flooding. People all around were panicking, attempting to open the locked door. However, Jungkook remained unfazed.
"You don't mean that."
"Jungkook, the place is flooding!" you cried, the water level rising faster than before. It was now up to your waist, and a wave of panic began to wash over you.
"I'm going to die. I knew it. I knew this would happen if I got close to you! It's all your fault!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“At least we’ll be together.” 
You shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back, making a sizable splash in the water. But despite your actions, he continued his relentless rambling. “See, this is a representation of how I feel. Without you I’m drowning. Give me a chance.”
He held your hand underwater and you pulled away, unable to register how unserious he was taking this. You let out a frustrated sigh, the water rising up to your neck, causing you to float up to the ceiling, where the lights were flickering wildly. Desperately, you pushed against them, as if hoping they would magically grant you more space.
“You know what, maybe death isn’t so bad after all.” you muttered.
“Let me love you right.”
“Does this look right?!”
You groaned and took a deep breath, going underwater to get away from him and his flirtatious words. Of course, he copied your actions but used his super strength to punch the glass windows and release the water. As it drained away, you laid there on your back, gasping for air. That was until Jungkook’s stupid face appeared before you. 
“Need CPR? Have no fear–” 
You swiftly pushed his face out of the way and sat up. “Nope, I’m good. Kiss me and you’re dead.”
Outside, a colossal twister of water surged into existence, taking the form of a massive entity that roared with immense power. Its presence was damning, with the sheer force of its swirling torrent causing nearby buildings to suffer damage.
“Well… that’s new,” Jungkook said, marveling at the sight before him. He clenched his fist, a sense of duty and readiness forming within him. Yet, your knowing look brought a hint of reluctance to his expression. He spoke in pouts. “Do I have to go? I don't want to leave you here alone.
You crossed your arms but offered an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll be okay.”
His pout transformed into a determined gaze as he nodded, accepting your words as a catalyst for action. Before he ventured into the chaos outside, he turned back to face you.
“I’ll come back for you. Get somewhere safe.”
Your concern for his well-being prompted you to call out to him before he left.
“Hey!” He turned around, his eyes shining with anticipation of your words. “If you… if you die, I’ll kill you.”
Your playful threat elicited a chuckle from Jungkook. With an assuring smile, he took hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I won’t.”
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Thursday
“Is that Spider-Man?”
“Quick, someone call 911!”
Jungkook shouldn’t have been texting and swinging, but you weren’t replying and he was worried. By the time he lowered his phone, it was too late and he crashed into the back of a double-decker tourist bus. People found him lying motionless on the street, facedown. The ambulance arrived at the scene and placed him on a stretcher, gradually stirring him from his drowsy state.
In the midst of the commotion, Jungkook’s sharp eyes spotted you on the sidewalk, clearly concerned about his well-being. When your gazes met, you realized he was fine and started walking faster to get out of his line of sight.
“Wait, wait, wait, I’m alright!” Jungkook protested, scrambling to get out of the stretcher’s restraints. The paramedics urged him to stay put, but he didn’t listen. He ripped the restraints off and pursued you, catching sight of a flower vendor along the way. He handed them an absurdly large wad of cash, disregarding how much he overpaid for a bouquet (but hey, it brought joy to the vendor). Delighted by the sight of the flowers now in his possession, he twirled around in sheer bliss.
“[Y/N]! Wait!” 
You were in the middle of walking across the street and by the time Jungkook got there, a car nearly hit him, causing him to nearly stumble and drop the bouquet. The car’s blaring horn compelled you to finally turn around, swiftly grabbing him by the arm and guiding him to the safety of the sidewalk.
“Are you crazy? Weren’t you on your way to the hospital?” you said, releasing your grip on him. With a toothy grin, he handed you the bouquet of sunflowers.
“I heal fast. These are for you.” 
You stared at the flowers, then back at him, overcome with disbelief. 
“I hate flowers,” you confessed, a tinge of annoyance in your voice.
“Wait, really?” he said, his hand instinctively reaching for his forehead in frustration. “I thought girls loved flowers.”
“All they do is wilt and die.”
“Well, you said I wasn’t boyfriend material, but I’m trying my best. You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take them back. I’ll get the boyfriend thing right one day. You’ll see.”
His face beamed with optimism, but it stung your heart a little. Unable to resist, you extended your hand towards the bouquet. “No, I’ll take them. They’re beautiful, thank you.”
He studied your movements and you even went as far as to smell the flowers letting out a satisfied “ahh” sound afterward. 
“You’re beautiful.”
“Yeah, okay~. Get out of here. I have work and you have to get to a hospital!”
“No, I’m fine.”
You placed your hand on your hip and playfully jabbed him in the side, causing him to flinch. "Ow, ow, OW! Alright, I get it. I'll go to the hospital."
You spun him around and nudged his back. “Alright, go on. Get out of here.”
“What am I, an animal?”
“Worse. An arachnid,” you joked. Jungkook walked back across the street once it was clear, making sure to turn back and wave at you. You waved back and when he finally got far enough, you let out the sneeze you had been holding in. 
“Ugh… now I gotta find a vase,” you said, sniffling. Jungkook quietly smiled to himself, his heightened sense of hearing providing him with another reason to love you.
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Friday
This was the worst thunderstorm you’ve seen in a while. You just finished watching a movie you’d been dying to see and would usually take the train home, but you had to first be able to get to the station without problem. This was one of those times you wished you had a car.
Due to the storm warnings, most people had left the theater early. You found yourself alone outside, contemplating whether to go back inside and wait out the storm with the employees. However, before you could make a decision, you heard a familiar voice.
“[Y/N]! What are you doing outside? It’s raining like crazy!”
“Oh no.”
You began walking away from him in the freezing rain, berating yourself for not bringing a jacket with a hood. Jungkook followed closely behind you.
“Are you really going to keep avoiding me? Even in this weather?”
“Yup!” 
“This is crazy. Come to my place. It’s not far away.”
“Nice try.”
“I’m serious, this is dangerous!”
“So now you can realize when a situation’s dangerous!”
You kept on trudging on amidst the ferocious storm, which only worsened the more steps you took. The wind became so powerful that abandoned pieces of furniture and appliances were scattered across the street. You took shelter behind a washing machine just in time to avoid being blown away by a gust of wind. Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t as lucky and desperately clung to a pole to avoid being swept away. But even still, he managed to call out for you.
“See?! This is why you should come back to my place!!!”
“Is sex the only thing on your mind?!”
“If it’s with you! Oh shi–” His grip loosened and he flew backwards in the wind current.
“Jungkook!” you screamed, abandoning your safe spot to rush to his side. He laid motionless on the ground, unresponsive even as you shook him. “Are you okay? Please respond. I can’t–I can’t deal with the thought of losing you. Come back and annoy me, damn it!”
He let out a sputter of a laugh and then quickly shut his lips, still pretending to be dead. 
“You little shit. Wake up this instant!”
“No, I could die happy now because I know you care about me.”
“Troublemaker,” you said, landing a punch on his chest. The impact jolted him awake, and he groaned as you turned away. However, a massive tree branch was heading your way through the wind and before you could react, Jungkook shot a web and pulled you to safety, right into his arms. 
Gasping for breath, your heart racing from the sudden surge of adrenaline, the two of you locked eyes, oblivious to everything else around you. Even in the rain, he remained breathtakingly handsome, with his long, black hair clinging to his face and water cascading off his cute button nose. Your gaze trailed down to his stylish black and white jacket, appreciating the definition of his abs visible through his drenched white t-shirt.
“Do I have permission to take you back to my place now?” You felt your words get caught in your throat. "Please," he added softly, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation and hope. You simply extended your hand, and he stared at it, taken aback. Realizing your sincerity, he became ecstatic and tightly held your hand as the coincidental storm came to a halt. Hand in hand, you dragged him in a specific direction, noticing how he did a cute little run to keep up with your brisk steps.
“Wait… this isn’t the way back to my place,” Jungkook said, his voice filled with confusion. You simply smirked and continued to drag him by the arm towards the entrance of your destination. "Why are we at a police station?" he questioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Babe, if you wanted to handcuff me, I already have a pair back home."
Rolling your eyes playfully, you responded, "Trust me, this isn't about handcuffs."
A smirk formed on Jungkook's lips as he leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. "So, what's the grand plan then? Are you filing a restraining order against me?" His words held a hint of excitement, as if he was relishing the idea.
You pretended to consider it for a moment, then nodded with mock seriousness. "Yup, that's exactly what I'm doing."
Jungkook burst into laughter, his infectious giggles filling the air. "You're serious right now?" 
Your expression turned determined as you raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”
He gave you his signature doe eyes. “I’d rather die than be apart from you.”
“Go ahead.”
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Saturday
Trouble: I miss u. Pls talk to me.
Trouble: I need u to ride my face. I was dreaming about it, like seriously. 
Trouble: Aren’t u curious if webs come out my dick? Trouble: Spoiler: they don’t. 
Trouble: Ok, pls I’m dying. Really. Help. 
Immediately after receiving the last text, you wasted no time in calling him. He picked up after the first ring. 
“Jungkook? Are you okay? What happened?!”
“Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine. Yay, you’re talking to me.”
“... I thought you said you were dying!”
"Yeah, because being away from you feels like dying."
“This isn’t funny, I was seriously worried you died or something. This is exactly why I can’t be your girlfriend. Bye.”
“No, no. Please don’t go.”
You hung up, but a flurry of texts flooded in and seeing the same unread message notification was driving you crazy. So you did the sensible thing and turned off your phone because your break was over anyway. Part of you thought Jungkook was going to show up at your workplace again but as the hours passed by, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe I should turn on my phone again… just to see if he’s okay. No, I shouldn’t give him the attention. Or maybe I should? Where is he?
“Hey [Y/N],” Jin said, gesturing for you to come over to where he was sitting, “You need to see this.”
You set down the cleaning cloth you were holding and made your way over to the booth he was at, where a large television overhead was displaying an explosion that happened a couple hours ago. Jin turned up the volume and your heart dropped as your mouth turned dry. 
The words “Breaking News” flashed across the screen as the news anchor stated, “In a shocking turn of events, tragedy struck earlier today as an explosion ripped through the apartment of Jeon Jungkook, known to many as the heroic figure, Spider-Man.”
Seeing the picture of Jungkook smiling in the corner made you fall to your knees. You stopped listening after they said he was presumed dead, and the authorities still had yet to recover his body. You didn’t even realize you were crying until the first tear dropped off your chin. Grabbing your phone, you quickly turned it on, anxiously waiting for the screen to load. Opening your text messages, you read them all quickly.
Trouble: I’m sorry for scaring u. :(
Trouble: I just wanna be with u.
Trouble: Am I annoying u? 
Trouble: I probably am.
Trouble: But ur all that’s on my mind.
Trouble: I know I’m jumping in fast. But I know I can make u happy. <3 We’ll take it slow. Whatever u want.
Trouble: Text me when u can.
The last text gutted you. 
Trouble: I really do love you. 🙂 I always will. Seven days a week. <3
You called him right after, but it was sent straight to voicemail. You tried again, only to meet the same fate. 
“Please tell me you’re alright… please tell me you’re alive,” you said through broken sobs. “There’s so much I want to tell you. Please call me back.”
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Later that evening, Jungkook returned from a mission from a ways away at the request of Iron Man (how could he say no to Iron Man, the dude worshiped him). In the car, his mentor showed him the news video and Jungkook was stunned to see how everyone presumed him dead. Seeing how there was already a funeral service planned for him, he was astonished at their efficiency. 
“Can I borrow a suit?” Jungkook asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wanted to set things right, but he had to do it with style. His mentor was more than happy to oblige, finding his protege’s plan hilarious.
When the funeral service began, you were seated among your mutual friends as well as the civilians who adored him. One by one people came up to the podium to say a few words except for you. You hadn’t processed the shock of his death yet, clutching your phone in hopes he’d text you or call you soon. 
“[Y/N]? Would you please come up and say a few words?” You looked up at your friend and realized everyone had already gone. Slowly you approached the podium and took a deep breath, trying not to stare at Jungkook’s handsome portrait. 
“Um… hello… I’m [Y/N]. I’m uh… well, some of you think I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend, but we hadn’t established that yet,” You licked your lips to wet them to be able to continue speaking. “I want to believe he’s still alive. I want to tell him so many things. You know, he asked me out three times.”
The crowd smiled at this and it gave you the confidence to go on. “Yeah, I know. He was persistent. It’s honestly one of the things I loved about him. And you’re probably thinking why didn’t I give him a chance? Well… this is why. I was afraid he’d get hurt someday and I’d lose him. And now… I probably have.”
You started to cry again, but wanted to keep going. “Even though I knew this was always a possibility, it doesn’t hurt any less. I miss him. I miss his stupid jokes, I miss the way he scrunches his nose, I miss the way he looks angry when he eats something delicious… I miss him. I wish he knew the truth.”
You looked at the closed casket in sorrow. “I love you, Jungkook. I was just too scared to admit it.”
Walking over to the casket, you sighed. “How could you leave me? You said you’d always love me…”
The casket slowly opened and a familiar voice said, “Seven days a week.”
Everyone at the service was letting out cries of shock, some even standing up or falling down. One even fainted and someone shouted, “IT’S A GHOST!”
You were face to face with Jungkook in a pinstripe suit, smiling at you brightly. You stumbled backwards, shocked as he jumped out and stood in front of you. 
“Hey,” he said warmly. Your brain couldn’t register how relieved you were and the overwhelming flood of emotions caused you to default to hitting his chest repeatedly. 
“Don’t ‘hey’ me! What the fuck is going on?! I thought you died, how could you just pop up in a casket like it’s normal? Where the hell were you? You stopped replying and I got worried—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He caught both your wrists and chuckled. “I’m alive, I’m okay. I was out of town for a bit helping Iron Man. Not my fault I come back and everyone presumes I’m dead.”
“You didn’t pick up my calls…” you said, calmer than before. 
“Ah, my phone got destroyed in the battle. No big deal though, I’ll just get a new one.”
“I really thought you were gone,” you said, hating that the waterworks were coming back. You could barely breathe and hiccups were leaving your lips faster than you could keep up with. He pulled you into a hug, patting your back gently to ease your worries.
“I’d never leave my girl,” he whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength to say more, so you let him hold you as everyone flooded out of the room to spread the news about Spider-Man’s return.  
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Walking hand in hand, you led him away from the somber atmosphere of the service, a glimmer of happiness returning to both of your faces. His smile, as bright as ever, mirrored the joy you felt at the simple act of your joined hands.
“Taking me to another police station? For the record I didn’t fake my death. I should sue the news station for that.”
You shook your head, your voice softening as you spoke. “No. We’re going to my place.”
Jungkook came to a sudden stop, causing you to stumble back a bit, caught off guard by his abrupt halt.
“Are you serious?”
“Well… yeah. Your place was destroyed. It’s late. Were you going to stay somewhere else?”
“Yeah, actually.”
“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment. “Guess I’ll go home then. Goodnight.”
You tried to leave, but Jungkook wouldn’t let go of your hand, finding your reactions adorable.
“What? Are you sad I’m not going home with you?”
“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s your loss, really.”
You stared at the ground, kicking a pebble across the street to distract yourself from your own vulnerability. Jungkook cupped your face and tilted your head up, so you would look at him. 
“It’s not that I don’t want to go home with you, beautiful. I do. But there’s a chance they might go after your place next and I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. You were right. I wasn’t taking things seriously.”
A mix of surprise and tenderness washed over you as you heard him acknowledge your concerns.
“Did you just admit that I was right? I must be dreaming.”
“To be fair, I’ve put away a lot of bad people and most of them are too terrified to face me again. I guess I let my guard down, thinking we were in the clear.”
“Yeah, that type of arrogance is why you’re such a pain.”
“But you love me anyway. I heard you say it.”
“I’m starting to regret it honestly.”
“... I still heard it.”
“Y-Your death caught me off guard,” you stammered. “Anyway, what are we going to do then if we’re both homeless?”
“I have a place we can go to. Do you trust me?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated only for a moment before nodding in affirmation.
“Yes.”
“Then come here.” He gently guided your hands to wrap around his neck, his touch sending a comforting warmth through your fingertips. “Now, put your legs around my waist.”
You followed his instructions, securing your legs around him, feeling the strength in his embrace. A grin spread across his face as he saw your trust.
“Good girl. Hold on tight.”
He launched a web toward the tallest nearby building, propelling the two of you into the sky with incredible height and speed. You held onto him tight, loving how you finally got to swing with the one and only Spider-Man. 
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Jungkook ended up swinging you to the Avengers Compound. He was assigned a room a while back and hadn’t used it much, but tonight was the perfect opportunity to do so. It was more than safe with the latest security updates, so you didn’t need to worry about him or yourself. 
Naturally, walking into the Compound felt out of sorts to you because you didn’t feel like you belonged. It was like you trespassing on sacred ground. But once you reached Jungkook’s room, that feeling gradually dissipated. The spaciousness and comfort of the room welcomed you, making you feel more at ease. Windows surrounded the room, allowing natural light to pour in, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. A dumbbell rack occupied one corner, a testament to Jungkook's dedication to staying fit, while on the opposite side stood an impressive gaming setup.
Taking a seat on the bed, you watched as Jungkook immediately knelt down on one knee, his gentle hands reaching for your heels.
“Let me take these off for you.”
You offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s my honor.”
Your eyes locked for a moment, the unspoken connection between you both growing stronger. However, Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the intimate silence.
“I’ll get you a change of clothes. They might be big though if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you… for taking care of me.”
Jungkook smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “It’s my purpose, love.”
His words resonated deeply within you, leaving you speechless. Fortunately, he broke eye contact and went over to his closet, pulling out an oversized T-shirt with a pair of sports shorts. He handed you the neatly folded pile of clothes and gestured you towards the bathroom. After you got changed, you opened the door to see he had already changed too. He wore a gray shirt and matching gray sweats, the simple attire making him effortlessly stylish.
“Do you have a toothbrush?” you asked timidly. He nodded and went over to grab one from the cabinet for you, selecting your favorite color on purpose. Grabbing his own toothbrush, the two of you brushed your teeth in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze in the mirror before looking away.
Once done, you both walked back to his room, but he stopped at the doorway. “So um… I’ll sleep in the living room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
You shook your head in protest.
“I need you.” He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. “Because… It's cold in this room. And two people in the room allows enough body heat to travel and set the room to optimal temperature. If you leave, it’ll be too cold to sleep at night.”
You mentally cursed at how stupid you sounded right now, but Jungkook kept smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life. “Well, if it's a matter of optimal temperature, then I guess I have no choice but to stay. After all, I wouldn't want you shivering in the cold all night, now would I?”
“Exactly. It has to be balanced.”
“Alright. You’ve convinced me.”
Jungkook stepped into the room and shut the door. You quickly got under the covers but then realized he was grabbing an extra comforter from his closet and placing it on the floor.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m sleeping on the floor.”
“This is your room. Don’t be silly.”
“But—”
“Sleep with me. U-Up here. There’s plenty of room.”
Jungkook watched you closely, waiting for a shift in expression but you were dead serious. He awkwardly put the comforter back and made his way over to you, getting underneath the covers. 
“Goodnight,” he said, the stiffness evident in his voice.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your tone mirroring the tension in the room. Jungkook turned on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a soft glow across the room, and both of you lay down on your respective sides, facing away from each other. The air in the room grew thick with palpable tension, amplified by the sound of your racing heart and shallow breaths.
“[Y/N]?”
“Yeah?”
“I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you, so sleep comfortably, okay? I won’t try anything.”
Something inside you snapped, a surge of emotions and desires bubbling up to the surface. You couldn't hold back any longer. “Maybe I want you to try something.”
His body stiffened for a split second, and then he quickly turned over to his other side. Following his lead, you mirrored his movement, facing the opposite direction.
“Are you… sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know a lot’s happened.”
You chuckled softly and cupped his face, your eyes full of love and desire. “What am I going to do with you, Trouble?”
“Am I… Am I Trouble?”
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. You are. You always will be.”
His grin widened. “I like it.”
“I like you.” There was a brief pause as you stared into his eyes, noticing how his pupils dilated. “I might even… love you. A lot.”
You tenderly traced his lip piercing with your thumb before leaning in, allowing your lips to meet in a gentle and lingering kiss. Jungkook responded eagerly, his lips moving in sync with yours as he sought the perfect angle and rhythm. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, intoxicated by the sensation of his lips on yours. A soft moan escaped your lips as he gently nibbled on your bottom lip, his teeth teasingly tugging at the delicate skin. The kiss continued for a few minutes until you leaned back, needing to catch your breath. 
“Wow…” you breathed. “You’re good.”
“I know. I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for as long as I can remember.” 
A moment of silence filled the air, carrying a blend of tenderness and a hint of inexperience. Jungkook’s been with plenty of women, sure. And you too had your fair share of dating experiences. But this would be your first time with each other. Until now, you two had never shared a kiss. 
Jungkook, being considerate and thoughtful, wanted to make sure you felt at ease throughout the entire experience. Taking his time, he gently asked, "Are you okay if we… continue?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Unless all that talk about fucking me seven days a week was a lie,” you challenged, the smirk on your face branding you as a total brat. Jungkook immediately got on top of you, pinning both your wrists over your head. 
“Oh babe… you have no idea what I’m capable of, do you?” He kissed you again, pulling away with an audible smooch sound. “Such a tease.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
He poked his tongue against his cheek at your bratty behavior, opting to pin you down with one hand while the other traced the lines of your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt. He watched your face for confirmation.
“Go ahead, Trouble.”
He slid the material up slowly, revealing your breasts to his feasting eyes. It was his first time seeing you like this and god, you were more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined (and he’s imagined you plenty of times). 
“Please, do stare longer,” you teased, trying to fight the self-conscious part of you. 
“I’m memorizing every detail,” Jungkook said, his eyes full of admiration. “You’re gorgeous.”
“You really think so?”
Usually you’d be more confident, but with him, you felt shy. Maybe it was because he had more experience than you, leaving you with a lingering curiosity about how you measured up against his past flings. Or maybe it was because he’s Spider-Man and the fear of the unknown loomed in your thoughts. Or maybe… you knew this one night would change things between you two forever.
“Hey…” He released your wrists and rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb before proceeding to place a chaste kiss there as if to ease your worries. “I mean it. You’re beyond stunning, I’m a lucky guy. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”
“Thank you… I don’t know, I just… I’m scared. Things will never be the same after this.”
“Yeah… that’s true. I know you’re worried and think this won’t work out. I know you’re doubting a lot of things. But if there’s one thing you shouldn’t doubt, it’s my love for you.”
“Jungkook…”
“I want you safe. I want you to be comfortable. We don’t have to do more. Okay?”
His eyes were sincere, his smile earnest. The way he kissed your forehead sent a comforting warmth throughout your whole body. He was so gentle with you, how could you not love him?
He was about to get off of you until you confessed, “I love you too. And I don’t want to hold back anymore so…” 
You cupped your breasts together with both hands, luring him in. “Don’t hold back either.”
Jungkook didn’t say any more and immediately took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. You arched your back in pleasure as he massaged your other breast while flicking your nipple with his tongue. Moans and licking noises left his lips, the sinful sounds increasing your desire tenfold. Running your hand through his luscious black locks, you tugged gently to bring him closer and he responded with a groan. 
“Your breasts are fucking perfect, you’re perfect,” he said raspily as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment before sucking on the skin hard enough to bruise it. “You’re such a temptation.”
He placed his face in the valley of your breasts, littering your chest with kisses before latching his warm lips on your neck. You mewled when he sucked the spot under your jaw, figuring he left another hickey. 
“I have work in the morning,” you whined in faux protest, secretly relishing in the fact he was claiming you as his.
“Good. Now everyone can envy who I have as my girlfriend,” he said, continuing to make out with your neck. His hand trailed down your body and slipped into your shorts and you felt him smiling against your skin, relishing at feeling how wet you were. “No panties? You’re already so wet for me…”
His middle finger rubbed up and down your slit a few times as you took in some sharp breaths, especially when he pressed on your clit. You wanted more, you needed more. Thrusting your hips up so the pressure would be just right, you sighed in content.  
“Such a needy girl. I haven’t even done much and you’re already such a mess.” He dipped his middle finger slowly, invading your tight walls. You moaned as he thrusted it in and out, waiting for you to adjust to the size before inserting another. He curled them just so, knowing he was hitting the right spot by the way your body reacted. Your breaths were becoming shaky, your body trembling, as you begged him to go faster.
“Please, don’t stop, sir,” you pleaded. His eyes darkened, loving how you addressed him. He fingered you faster as a reward, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in bliss as your orgasm built up. Curses left your lips as you squirmed on his bed and he loved every second of it. What sealed the deal was when he attacked your neck again, biting down with just the right amount of pressure to pleasure you. Your first orgasm ripped through you and he helped you through the blissful waves, scissoring his fingers expertly. 
“Such a good girl, so sexy,” Jungkook praised, gradually slowing down when your body gave out. Your chest rose and fell as you came back down to earth. He chuckled, removing his drenched fingers and sucking them clean, making obscene wet noises. “Fuck, I need more. You taste amazing.”
He got in between your legs and carefully pulled down your shorts as you lifted your hips up, discarding them behind him. You got nervous when you realized he was staring at your womanhood unashamed, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. 
“You’re staring,” you pointed out shyly. He palmed himself through his sweats, shaking his head.
“No baby. I’m admiring. So fucking sexy… I need you to ride my face. Please.”
“But what if… what if I crush you?” you asked timidly, having not done something like that before.
“Ugh, I’d die happy. Sit on me, please. Here,” He laid flat on his back, so his head was slightly hanging off the edge of the bed. “Get off the bed and hover over me.”
You obliged but were still apprehensive. He stared up at you upside-down, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly. 
“Come on, baby. Ride my face and I promise it’ll be worth it. We can stop whenever you want.” 
“You’ll let me know if I’m hurting you?”
He chuckled at how sweet you were being. “Yes, I will. Now open those pretty legs of yours, yeah. Just like that. Fuck,” You got closer to him and appreciated he was guiding you every step of the way. He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Let me have a taste.”
He palmed your cheeks and secured his head snug in between your thighs before licking a stripe of your cunt, cleaning up the mess he made of you while also encouraging more to come. You shuddered at the feeling of the wet muscle licking your folds and he moaned, the vibration sending tingles up your spine. He was devouring you like a starved man, the slurping sounds sinful, almost primal. 
He pulled you down more, allowing his tongue to slip inside and you were transported to heaven as he began tongue-fucking you as deep as he could. You couldn’t find the strength to hold yourself up anymore, so you placed your hands on either side of his body to hold yourself steady. But that’s when you noticed the tent in his pants and decided to pull his sweatpants down, exposing his large, aching cock. Not only was his length impressive, but the girth was more than you expected, your mouth watering at the thought of it inside you.
However, you had to give back and you ran your nails along his thigh to get his attention.
“Of course your cock is also perfect,” you said. Jungkook ceased his actions for a moment, his breath hitched at the thought of what you were going to do next. “I want to please you too, Trouble.”
“Fuck, please do. Wait, I have an idea. Switch spots with me.”
“Hmm? Okay…”
You were clueless of his plans, but you laid down on the bed upside-down while he got up, removing his shirt and sweats completely. Your shirt was the last article of clothing left on your body, so you removed it as well while ogling Jungkook’s defined body. He was toned in all the right places as if sculpted by the gods themselves, a delicious feast for your eyes. As he hovered above you, the tip of his cock was dangerously close to your lips, so you placed a chaste kiss on it. 
He rubbed your cheek lovingly at this action, pleased. “You wanna suck my cock that badly?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
In one swift motion, Jungkook wrapped his arms around the underside of your thighs and lifted you up so that you and him were both standing together. Except you were still upside-down, realizing he wanted to do the 69 position while standing. You let out a yelp at the sudden bold action and took a few deep breaths to calm down.
“Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t drop me.”
“I’ve got you, beautiful. You okay?”
“Your dick kinda smacked me in the face.”
“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”
You giggled. “It’s okay… I kinda liked it.”
Your hands gripped onto Jungkook’s firm ass for support as you slowly took his cock deep in your mouth. He hugged your waist securely, returning his mouth on your pussy and sucking harshly while moving his head side to side rapidly. Your moans were muffled by his cock as you did your best to bob your head up and down in the difficult position. The blood rushing to your head made things a little harder to focus, but you continued to deep throat him while swirling your tongue around his member. 
Each time his cock hit the back of your throat, he let out a restrained moan, increasing the pressure of his lips on your clit. But you were relentless, not letting up on your steady pace.
“Fuck, are you trying to make me cum?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily. You released his cock with a loud pop of your lips. 
“Is it working?”
He gently placed you back down on the bed and then proceeded to grab a condom from his nightstand drawer. “I don’t want to cum until you do.”
You rearranged yourself so you were oriented correctly on the bed while you watched him rip the package open with his teeth, which was very seductive in your eyes. 
“Guess that means no spider-babies then,” you joked. A faint blush colored his cheeks in response to the comment.
“I want to do things right with you. Maybe after some time… we can take that risk,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. You felt your heart blossom, wondering how it was possible to love him more than before. 
You watched as he rolled the condom onto his fat cock before climbing back in bed in between your legs. Using one hand to hold himself up, the other one slowly guided the tip to your entrance, teasingly rubbing it up and down your slit.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes. I need you inside me.”
You held your breath as he slowly inserted into you, making sure you could take the first inch before adding another. He prepped you well, the transition smooth, but you let out a whimper when he finally bottomed out into you. 
He shuddered above you, growling at the sensation. “You’re squeezing me so tight, love. You feel so… so good.” 
He grabbed both your hands and intertwined his fingers with your own as he began to thrust into you, his movements nice and languid, making sure to shove his entire cock in you before pulling out again. The moment was full of passion and tenderness, the love he had for you undeniable. You were observant how his face was a portrait of restrained desire, etched with visible tension as he continued to fuck you. His features contorted, the muscles in his jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed in a valiant effort to restrain himself. 
“Jungkook…” you breathed. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?”
He opened his eyes and stopped moving, a pang of guilt spread across his face. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“It’s different this time.”
“Because you’re Spider-Man?”
“Because it’s you.” You clenched around him tightly at that and he hissed. “Fuck… and you say I’m trouble.”
You gave him a peck on the lips. “I want you to feel good too. I can take it. Fuck me like you love me.”
Your words were filthy despite the angelic glow casted upon you from the lamp on his bedside table. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up so he was sitting on his ankles, his hands taking place on your thighs while your legs rested on his shoulders. Kissing your ankle gingerly, he proceeded to pick up the pace, thrusting into you with a rough slam before repeating the motion over and over. You had the wind knocked out of you when he finally went to town, jack-hammering into you aggressively.
“Fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” you said, unable to do anything but take the assault to your cunt. Your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust, the sight so inviting that he embraced one of them for stability.
“Is this what you wanted? Huh?” Jungkook asked as if he was challenging you. You could barely reply with a broken yes before he changed things up, pinning your hands down again while forcing your legs to go up all the way, slamming his hips into you mercilessly. You were screaming at this point, your pussy wrapped around him tightly like a vice.
He grunted as he exerted himself, loving the way his muscles burned while your face contorted with pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and lifted you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on his knees on the bed, kissing you deeply and giving the both of you a quick break. 
“You’re such a good girl for me, letting me fuck that sweet pussy,” he whispered in between kisses. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he guided his stiff cock back inside you, moving you up and down as he pleased. The squelching sounds of your pussy were obscene and you couldn’t do anything but take it deep. It didn’t take long before Jungkook was standing, finding more stability this way and holding you securely before ramming into you at a bruising pace.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, unashamed about your strength kink and how his strong muscles fucking you were a dream come true. The familiar pleasure was building again and you were near tears at this point when your second orgasm of the night hit you faster than expected. You threw your head back in bliss, crying out his name like a mantra. 
Before you knew it, you were placed back onto the bed, thankful you could catch your breath. Honestly you could have passed out at this point, but with a swift move, Jungkook flipped you over so that you were on your stomach and he laid on top of you, his tattooed bicep holding your neck gently as he panted into your ear.
“You thought we were done, right? We’re not done,” he said, voice deep and husky. 
You gulped, feeling another wave of arousal in between your thighs. “You didn’t cum yet?”
He let out a sinister chuckle. “Weren’t you listening? I said I’m not done. Understand?”
“Yes sir. I understand.”
He slid his dick into you once more, fucking you like a madman while holding you close, whispering sweet words of praise into your ear. His moans became more broken over time, more whiny, indicating he was close. His hips were stuttering, but he pushed through and slammed into you one final time, releasing into the condom. You let out a content sigh as he finally released you so you could lay your head down while he rested his on your back, panting. 
“Fuck, you were so amazing,” Jungkook said after a couple minutes, pressing butterflies kisses on your back. 
“Yeah, you were… so…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, still in a daze. 
He smirked. “Good? Fantastic? The best you’ve ever had?”
“... Maybe.”
He pushed himself off you and pulled out his dick, taking off the condom and tying it to discard in his trash can. As much as you wanted to bask in the afterglow and fall asleep, you knew you had to clean yourself up properly. To your surprise, Jungkook scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom himself. 
“Go pee,” he urged, setting you down. 
“You need to go pee too,” you countered. 
“... Will you hold it while I go?” 
You burst out laughing, recalling how you saw that trend on TikTok for couples. “Oh my god, no.”
“Damn,” he said, joining in your laughter. You noticed how his dick was still semi-erect and honestly, the size was still very remarkable.
“Are you still hard?”
“It’ll go away, don’t worry about it.”
“... Well… where are your web shooters?” you asked with a certain twinkle in your eye. Jungkook licked his lips at the thought of what you were possibly insinuating. 
“They’re in my room of course. Why?”
“... Maybe you can use them on me.”
Let’s just say you didn’t get to “clean up” after yourself for a while.
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Sunday
By the time you woke up, your hands instinctively reached out for Jungkook only to feel nothing but the bedsheets. Sitting up straight, you stared at the empty spot in wonder. Where could he be?
Getting out of bed, you found your legs to be a bit wobbly. The memory of last night’s events resurfaced and you smiled in amusement. Jeon Jungkook talked big, but oh, he kept his word. Even your lower back was aching, but you persevered and explored the Compound looking for him. 
It was when you went up to the rooftop balcony that you spotted him on something quite unexpected. The place must’ve been under construction or something because Jungkook was dancing on a platform in the air that was attached to a crane nearby. He was jovial, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. You went over to the ledge right away, waving your hands around so he would notice you.
“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You shook your head as a smile broke out on your face.
“What are you doing, silly?”
“I woke up early. Couldn’t sleep anymore. Too happy.”
He held onto one of the ropes on the corner of the platform, dangling half his body off of it without a care in the world. You wanted to rip your hair out at his recklessness.
“What are you doing?!”
*Thwip, thwip*
In an instant, you were pulled off the ledge and onto the platform with him, caught securely in his arms. “You idiot! What if I fell?! Oh my god, get me down. I’m gonna kill y—”
He kissed you tenderly and you melted like butter, unable to resist his touch. When he pulled away, you saw how he glowed in the warm sunlight and the insurmountable love in his gaze. 
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
“What are you even saying right now?” you said softly, giggling at how cute he was.
“We can go on a date. Like, a proper one. No chandeliers falling, no hanging off trains, or laundromats flooding. I promise.”
You placed your forehead against his. “I’d love to, Trouble.”
“Yay! I have a girlfriend!!! The best girlfriend ever!!!” he shouted while jumping up and down, causing the platform to wobble. Panic settled in your features as you hit his chest. 
“We’re going to fall, you idiot!”
“I’m finally your idiot though,” he said, squeezing your waist. You sighed, knowing he was right. The Jungkook you knew was always trouble. 
But now he was your Trouble. 
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And then the blip happened... I’m totally joking. LOL.  Hope you enjoyed!!!
Tag List: @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad | @gxtwllsn | @frieschan | @loomipee | @coffee-jeon | @hellbornsworld​ | @sizzlingfestpeach
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