#i cringe at seeing my own language | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kihyunsflavor · 7 months ago

Text

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd-rautha x reader #kihyunsflavor

2K notes · View notes

jenoonej423 · 2 months ago

Text

pavlov and ponytails

NOT MY WORK all rights to hyucksie, she deactivated years ago but I managed to get a hold of my own personal copy of her work and noticed many users were looking for one so here it is <3

synopsis: it was the perfect combination: you (the girlfriend), jeno (the boyfriend), and a sexual twist on psychological conditioning. after some thorough but fun experimentation, you finally see the results you were hoping for: you can now get your boyfriend hard just by tying your hair up.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader ft. bff!haechan genre: smut, fluff, crack, established relationship, slice of life, college!au, rich kid!jeno

word count: 22k words lmfao

warnings: language, explicit detailed sex honestly the amount of smut in this i’m almost ashamed, some cringe fluff | smut specifications under the cut

smut warnings: mostly soft dom!jeno but also some hard dom!jeno, sex in various locations, lots of blowjobs (obviously) and generous use of spit (practical! because water is never a substitute for lube, my friends), dirty talk, heavy petting, degradation, fingering, edging, handjob, pussyjob, cumming in panties, blowjobs, spanking, dick slapping, deepthroating, hair pulling, face fucking, facials, cum feeding/eating, just lots and lots of cumplay you’ve been warned, overstimulation, unprotected sex, manhandling, exhibitionism, punishment sex, edging, biting, marking, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, facials, cumplay, creampie, vibrator, just the slightest bit of a daddy kink as in just one instance, jeno. yes jeno is a warning.

The day you moved in with Jeno, he refused to let you lift any of the heavy boxes.

“But they’re my stuff,” you complained, “is this a fragile masculinity thing?”

He had one arm reaching into the trunk when he looked back, met with the sight of your crossed arms and accusing frown. He spun round to face you, a glass bowl of chocolate coins in hand. It was the only thing left outside of the boxes, something you had stolen taken as remembrance from Donghyuck, your best friend and previous roommate in uni.

“This,” he stressed, pulling your arm and securing the bowl in your embrace, “is the only fragile thing around here.” He spun back to arrange the boxes left inside. “Think of it this way: you have a boyfriend who’s extremely grateful that you agreed to start living with him and his way of saying ‘thanks’ is by saving you the hassle and taking care of the heavy things.” He held two boxes stacked atop each other before setting them on the cart, facing you again. “Besides, you should know by now that I respect you too much to demean you like that,” he continued with a hand on his hip, head tilted to the side as he leaned closer, a skewed smile ghosting his lips. “Unless we’re in bed and you’re in that mood.”

He was slowly closing the gap between you, and instinctively you stepped backwards before your ego caught up and rooted you in place. “Chicken shit,” you whispered. “You’re saying you’d only give it to me in bed?” He was so close that your only clue of his smirk growing into a wicked grin was the way his eyes shrunk into crescents.

And you’re saying you just got here but you already want me on every surface?”

You scoffed despite the surprise painted on your face. “I didn’t say that!”

“Of course you didn’t,” he chuckled, “but I did and I think it’s a great idea.” His voice dived deep. “Just to prove how grateful I am to you.” His hands rested low on your waist. “And that my masculinity,” he whispered to your ear, “is anything but fragile.”

There was no way you could have concealed the sharp shiver that cut through you. Your breath was stolen, muscles taut and frozen, and lips slightly parted when Jeno parted from you, regarding you with an amused smile. You watched as he gripped the handles of the cart, your gaze dripping onto the veins that ran down his arms…

“Baby?” An absentminded huh? was all you managed. “Be a gentleman and open the door for me?” he said, clearly entertained by his own joke.

You rolled your eyes but did his bidding nonetheless. You swung the door open and stretched an arm out in an exaggerated gesture of welcome, other arm still hugging the bowl of chocolate. “Ladies first!” you shouted, making him laugh loud and pinch your ear between his fingers before rolling the cart in with you in tow.

You were sprawled on the couch as Jeno went out for the last few boxes. You had to admit, you did end up pleased with his volunteer spirit. It allowed you to relax on your back, a hand reaching behind to the bowl you left on the end table, picking up yet another one of the circular treats. By now, there was a growing pile of the crumpled foil bits on your tummy as your eyes wandered, admiring the place.

It didn’t look like the man cave you expected it to be. Despite the sleekness of the minimal interior, the place seemed to radiate warmth from its walls. Like it was receiving you with a hug, happy that you were certainly, finally, here. Jeno told you his parents had signed it off to his name the day he turned legal, but he opted for the on-campus dormitories in university to avoid the 45-minute drive. Obviously, his family was well-off. It was good ammo for the rich-sheltered-kid trope you teased him with, but it was hardly even the surface to his many layers you’ve grown to love. On your part, you made sure that he knew you were in it for him and nothing else. That same conviction was what delayed you from moving in with him for so long, until today.

The timing was just right: you were having your third anniversary soon, your last year of uni was approaching faster than you’d like, and you were eventually gonna go your separate ways from Donghyuck (your best friend slash roommate) anyways, as he was spending the next semester at a specialized research center off-campus. It just made sense when Jeno whined for the nth time about the convenience of living together that you shrugged and said “Sure” so nonchalantly that he almost missed it.

Dumb silence was followed by his repetitive “Seriously?” and then hours of clinging to your side like an overgrown koala, ditching your date in favor of crowding in your single bed, fantasizing about how you’ll spend the last summer break and the last year of college under the same roof.

You smiled at the memory, letting an arm dangle off the sofa as you traced lines with your finger on the spotless wooden floor beneath you. “What about mornings?” You asked back then. “You’ll have to be up early if you get any morning classes.” It was a small but genuine concern. Your boyfriend loved his sleep and set alarms for half an hour before class when he lived on-campus.

He looked at you as if you were crazy and he’d been rising before dawn all his life, clutching your chin in his hand and rocking your face side to side. “I don’t think waking up is a problem if I’m waking up to you. Getting us out of bed is a wholly different question, though…”

Your heart was seizing just as Jeno returned, unloading the boxes. You were feeling playful, deep in that teasing mood that arose whenever you were brimming with attachment. “Babe, quick!” Without waiting for him to face your way, you catapulted the piece of chocolate from your hand into the air, going full speed in his direction. Jeno was fast, but only fast enough to catch the trinket in his hand after it bounced off his forehead. He stared at it for some moments, puzzled by the attack.

Oops.” Jeno lifted his gaze to find your coy smile. “Sorry, thank you, I love you!” You chimed, all in one breath.

A warm sensation bloomed in his chest at the sight of you giggling so comfortably, looking so ‘at home’ at his home. No, not just his. It was yours. ‘Your home too,’ he thought, a match lighting up in his heart. ‘You’re home, too’ and suddenly his body was ablaze with affection for you.

The urge to kiss you breathless was itching at his bones but he put a hand back on the cart, wanting everything out of the way before he got his way with you. “One sec,” he turned on his heels, rushing to the door.

“One!” You shouted after him.

“Ten seconds!” He corrected, spurring more giggles to pour out of you.

You counted in your head while you reached for another chocolate. By three, you’ve unwrapped the foil. Five, Jeno was running back in. Six, the thin piece dangled between your teeth.

And then you lost count, because suddenly your boyfriend was on top of you, his knee spreading your thighs apart as he slotted his lower body between you and pulled you in by the hips. His hand dipped to the back of your neck, lifting your face closer to his. You held your breath from the anticipation, and you nearly lost it when the tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

He sank down, closing the distance between your faces. You expected the familiar brush of soft lips against yours as you shut your eyes, but you moaned at the cold graze of his teeth instead. Your eyes fluttered open, and you huffed when you realized he wound you up just to snatch the chocolate from your lips. He looked so delighted with himself it was almost too hard for you to maintain a scowl.

“What?” He challenged between chews.

“Asshole,” you muttered, “thought you were gonna kiss me.” You watched as he swallowed, eyes so focused on the bob of his Adam’s apple that you didn’t notice his hand on your neck lifting you up again, his smirk unwavering.

“I am now.”

Not a second later, his lips collided with yours. His hand cupped your jaw, strained breath escaping you when his thumb nudged at your chin and forced your lips to part against his, tipping you further into him like he was starved and desperate to taste all of you. You propped yourself higher on one elbow, chasing him with the same eagerness as your mouths moved in sync. His tongue delved past your lips and you moaned at the taste of chocolate that lingered on him. He was kissing you like an apology, like he was feeding the stolen sweetness back into you.

He broke away, giving you a chance to catch your breath. His hand dragged to the small of your back and pulled you towards him, giving you two gentle pecks on the lips once he had you upright. His palms settled on your ass, kneading at the clothed skin before lifting you up with him, adjusting to a more comfortable position with him sitting and you straddling his hips.

Despite you being on top, it was clear that you were under his control. This time, he wanted you slow. He drew you into him, your arms resting atop his shoulders as he ghosted another peck on your mouth, scarcely breaking away from you before swiping his tongue across your still-closed lips. You opened up to him instinctively, wanting to feel his mouth back on yours, to have him steal your breath, give it back, and take it from you again and again until your lungs knew nothing but him, him, him.

He indulged your silent wishes, molding your lips together and matching the slow pace of his hands rubbing up and down the sides of your thighs. You could have kissed him like that forever if it weren’t for the need to breathe, or the slip of soft gasps and whimpers, or the impatient heat between your legs that compelled your body to meld even closer to his, not knowing when you began to rock back and forth on his growing need, only knowing that you had to have more.

He groaned into the kiss, slipping both his hands into your back pockets and halting your lewd motions. You whined, attempting to resume your grinding, but his hand squeezing hard on your plump flesh called the last shot, the fleeting but sharp pain ripping a mewl from you and drawing you still.

“I’m starting to think you’re trying to get fucked on this couch.” You shuddered from his words and his voice, deep and swimming in the same lust you were drowning in.

“Yeah? That would be a smart guess.”

“So you do want me on every available surface.” He smiled, planting a kiss to the corner of your lip. Despite wanting to tease you and make you wait, it somehow felt wrong for his lips to be away from your skin for too long.

“Don’t be too sure…” you paused, kissing up his neck, “…I haven’t even seen the rooms yet.” He grunted when you sucked on the bolt of his jaw, eyes closing and head tilting back as he let you work your magic on him.

“Fuck, baby. I promise I’ll show you around.” His breath hitched. “Promise I’ll fuck you in each one.” Hearing that sent heat rushing to your core, your head whirring over his lust-driven vows to give you exactly what you wanted and more. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? On this couch, the showers, the guest room, the kitchen…” Your toes curled in when he started to move you in his grip, the hands that kept you still now grinding you on him. “Even against the windows, right baby?” He whispered in your ear, tickling you with his breath before nibbling gently on the lobe. You keen from the sensation, picking up the pace of your hips until he held you firmly in place again, cutting off the momentum with his final words, “But right now, bedroom.”

You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, patience already worn thin. “But I want you here,” you whined. “Want you now.”

He only smiled at your eagerness, your desperation. “Not here baby.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he began, his hand landing on top of yours that was trying to lift his shirt off, “I want your first proper fucking here to be in our bed.”

You breathed out a sound of appreciation despite how frustrated you felt beneath your clothes. “Jen,” your head rested on his shoulder as you drawled your words, “I love that you’re so sweet, but you don’t have to be sweet with me right now.” You lifted your gaze back to his eyes. “And this,” you detached your body from his, watching his confusion grow as you stood before him, “doesn’t have to be a proper fucking.”

He could only gape at you as you shoved your shorts off, not a hint of grace in your hurried, desperate motions. His eyes trained steady at the dark patch on your underwear, waiting as you neared and caged him between your knees again. You took his hand in yours, guiding his fingers to the pool of moisture in the fabric, making him groan at the feeling. “Shit, baby. You’re soaked through.”

“Mmm,” your delighted sounds began to pour out of you as you rutted onto his stretched fingers, the tips bumping enticingly on your clothed clit, “Jeno… need you to take care of me. Please.” The need was rising to a crescendo within you, your chest heaving for relief. You guide his hand again, using his fingers to draw the line of your slit through your panties and making a show of trying to sink down on them despite the thin barrier of clothing. “Just need you inside me, please. Any part of you.”

He inhaled through his teeth, moving his hand back to your front to rub at your clothed clit. “God, always too needy to wait.” He didn’t seem eager to wait either as he pushed the fabric to the side, his middle finger immediately running between your drooling folds, dipping just a little into you each time he went past your entrance.

You must have been making the most unintelligent sounds, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were too preoccupied trying to get your boyfriend to just stick his damned finger where you needed it, but he kept pulling his hand away each time you tried to fuck yourself on him.

“Wanted to treat you like a princess but you go and act like a slut.” He spat the last word, punctuating his sentence with a stinging slap to your ass, the impact forcing you to sit down, your gasp breaking off into a needy moan as his finger finally breached inside of you. You were too drunk on the feeling to wait for his reaction. You closed your eyes, letting your cries spill freely as you began bouncing on his finger.

You couldn’t see him, but his grunts were confirmation enough that he enjoyed the sight. “More,” you choked out. “Want more of you.” He didn’t deny you this time, a hand flying to your waist to slow you down as he re-entered you with both his middle and ring finger, giving you a few hard pumps before he curled the digits, grazing at your front walls. “Fuck,” you cried out, your arms flying out to the backrest of the couch to keep your legs from collapsing in.

“You like that?” His fingers eased into the rhythm of pushing in and out of you, angling his hand just right so he keeps brushing against your sweet spot.

“Yes! Like it so much, feels so good.” His other hand pulled on your scoop neckline, enough to expose the cups of your strapless bra. He tugged even that down, pulling until your bra was stuck mid-torso, your breasts spilled out, and the collar of your shirt ruined. He circled his tongue around your nipple and blew cold air on it, drawing a gasp from you before he took it in his mouth, giving it multiple short but rapid sucks and at times gently grazing it with the front of his teeth, pausing only to give your other nub the same dizzying attack.

His digits kept pumping into you, going faster and harder while proof of your arousal kept oozing down his fingers. The wetness collected on his palm until he pushed his hand up against you, the heel rubbing on your clit, spreading your slick back onto your lips. “You’re making a mess on my hands, baby.” You couldn’t find any words to say back, littering the air with just your whimpers and the wet sounds of his digits fucking into you.

You were shaking at the knees, your pitch going higher and the succession of small, gradually tightening clenches of your walls blared at him, all telltale signs that you were getting closer and closer and, “Fuck fuck fuck, please, oh my god, please!” You were already hanging on the precipice when he withdrew his fingers and mouth from your skin, snatching you back to the ground before you could plunge into the depths of white heat.

You sobbed, dropping your head to the crook of his neck, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt in protest. Chocolate and orgasms; it seemed your boyfriend was stealing everything from you today. You felt the small vibrations as he chuckled, trying to soothe your betrayed feelings with soft kisses to your shoulder and a hand rubbing your lower back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “it’s not a proper fucking, but I still want you to cum on my cock.”

You were appeased just enough with the promise of more. You lift your hips higher, helping him pull his pants and boxers down to free his erection. You wasted no time as you swiped your palm on his glistening tip, spreading his pre-cum as you glided your fist on his cock. You bowed closer to his cock, and Jeno groaned as he watched you push spit out of your mouth, landing it on his tip and gradually spreading it on his shaft with each pump of your hand. There was a trail of it left hanging from your lips, the clear liquid bridging your mouth to the head of his cock while you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, hand tight around him, moving up and down in flicking motions.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled deep, a hand sneaking to the back of your neck and pulling you towards him, re-connecting your lips as the air around you grew thinner and hotter than ever. Your bare pussy was now hovering above his cock as you kept pumping him through the kiss, and it was taking every bit of restraint in you to keep it that way, imagining how easy it would be to just lower your hips and swallow him into your waiting heat.

He must have been thinking the same as you felt him buck into your touch, his tip pressing lightly on your slit, your gasp breaking the kiss. “Thought you wanted to fuck me on the bed first…” you mumbled. He replaced your hand with his, jerking himself off a few times as he pushed the fabric of your ruined panties further out to expose you even more.

“You thought right.” He slid the head of his cock along your slit, prodding the tip against your hole ever so slightly before running it back to the front, rubbing it on your clit and then going back again. His other hand guided your hips down on him, watching with dark eyes as your folds spread around the girth of his cock, the wetness dribbling on his length inciting a growl from him. “Can you cum from just this, baby?” He began thrusting forward, his cock sandwiched between your pussy lips rubbing you all the right ways, leaving you devoid of intelligent vocabulary.

“Mmm… ah! Fuck, yes, keep going.” He had an arm braced around you, keeping you upright while you grind on each other, your clit swollen and sensitive from the friction. You were both panting hard, speeding up as you were getting closer to your highs, but the burn in your thighs was getting too much to ignore. “Jen…” you managed to whine as you slowed down. He hummed in response, a hand reaching out to the messy hair on your face and tucking it behind your ear. The delicate gesture was so out of place from the carnal things he was doing to your body, and you keened at the swirl of feeling so loved and so ruined all at once.

You stopped your motions altogether and melted into his embrace. Your eyes were closed, forehead leaned against his as small squeaks slipped past your lips from his every thrust. His chest tightened with endearment, and you didn’t have to say anything as he picked up on your cue, holding you by the hips and ardently bringing pleasure to both of you. “Is my baby tired?” You moaned in his ear, blood rushing to his cock at the feeble sound. “S’okay. I’ll take you there. Make you feel so good.”

Jeno was always good with his promises. He positioned his tip against your clit, his face contorting in pleasure as he rubbed your most sensitive parts together. His hand sneaked to your pussy from behind, plunging his middle and ring finger into you and making you cry out from the added sensation of him pumping into you once again. Your hands were shaking as they reached down to his cock to stroke his shaft, everything a blur of sloppy hands and filthy squelching sounds.

His fingers were relentless, your walls sucking them so deep he was barely pulling them out of you anymore, driving into you harsh and rapid. Your engorged clit was throbbing, each circle of his tip gliding around it sending shockwaves through you. Your jaw hung loose, choked sobs pouring out of you, legs trembling as an intense heat unfurled within you. Jeno knew you were close, your walls lightly spasming around his digits. He kept his pace constant, his mouth kissing on your jaw, ready to catch you from below when you reach your peak.

“Fuckfuckfuck! You’re making me cum!” Your broken sobs drew a groan from him, “Fuck, I’m there, I’m there! Jeno!” Your whole body tenses up, spasming in time with your powerful orgasm. Jeno stops moving against you, the contraction of your walls pushing his fingers in and out of you without his guidance.

He didn’t take his digits out of you even after you’ve calmed down, keeping them buried deep as he started jerking himself with his other hand, occasionally bumping into your still sensitive clit, making you hiss. He looked so hot, so focused with his eyes looking directly into yours, eyebrows scrunched together, breathing ragged. His cock was rock hard, twitching in his hand, the tip an angry red.

“Cum in my panties,” you rasped, barely thinking when you let the order slip out before adding, “please?” He moaned, voice higher than usual, muttering under his breath,

“You’re so dirty for me today.” You smiled, knowing this kind of behavior wrecked him a hundred times over inside. You fixed your underwear, spreading the fabric below to cover as much of yourself as possible with his fingers still inside you. You pulled at the top hem, angling it down and showing your eagerness to catch every drop of his cum.

Your other hand reached down to his balls, fondling them gently, urging him to come undone. Your name and a flurry of curses tumbled out of him soon after, strangled noises escaping him as he came. His hips lurched with each shot of his load onto your exposed skin, the warmth dripping down and collecting at the bottom of your panties. You shuddered at the feeling, hitching a breath when he bit on your shoulder. His fingers scissored inside you, and you realized you’ve been clenching around them hard since he started cumming on you.

His teeth were replaced by his soft lips pressing wet kisses on your shoulder. His fingers slipped out of you slowly, your bodies gradually untensing as you basked in the calm after frenzied sex. You pressed a hand gently to his chest, watching its rise and fall grow steadier.

When he lifted his head, your disheveled appearance brought a smile to his face. He kissed your chin, “I love you.”

You kissed him back on the forehead, “Love you too.”

You had to break the tender moment, the feeling of your soiled underwear now less sexy and more uncomfortable against your skin. You tried to lift your thigh over to one side but unlike you, your boyfriend was clearly having a hard time moving on. His hands were on your waist, keeping you from moving, his eyes focused on your ruined panties.

“Jen?” He hummed absentmindedly. “I need to clean up.” He was a little dazed as he looked up to you, his hands suddenly letting go as if he just realized he was caging you in. You tried standing, and you cringed from the sensitive and utterly wet feeling between your thighs. “Can you get me some undies from my suitcase?” You had your legs twisted slightly inwards, your stance awkward as you tried to keep the fluids from dripping out.

“I don’t know…” he pondered, “I kinda like the look of that.” You groaned at his response. Trickles of white were beginning to ooze from the edges of the fabric, and you knew if you didn’t handle it now there would be a bigger mess to take care of.

“Jeno,” you whined, “please? I can’t move.” He only smiled wider at your predicament. “Ugh, why are you even so wound up…”

“Really? You don’t get why all I’m riled up thinking of you walking around full of my cum?” Well, when he puts it like that…

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do get it.” You were careful not to show how his remark made goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. “Now get my underwear or get cumstains on your immaculate floor.”

He laughed at your threat but stood to fulfill your wishes, fixing himself up a little before going into the bedroom, coming back a minute later. You snatched the folded bundle in his hand, turning to the direction of the bathroom before a thought snagged in your head. You pivoted back to the couch, Jeno amused as he watched you try to lean over to the end table without walking.

“Gotcha,” you mumbled after struggling to fish through the clear bowl, holding a golden piece between your fingers. You faced him and threw the chocolate in the air, and it seems this time he’s learned his lesson, catching it easily in one hand.

“Good boy!” You cooed, walking over to him carefully so you could ruffle his hair. He scrunched his nose at you, pretending to ward you off as he ate the confection. You huffed at his reaction, turning your back to him and waddling to the bathroom as he giggled behind you.

It was the habits developed since that day which led you down the weirdest, most preposterous mission of your life yet. When you realized what was happening, you swore to yourself that it was unintentional. It was just that the bowl of chocolate coins was always there. Sat within your reach, looking all convenient, plentiful, tempting.

Every time Jeno would do you a little favor⁠ (the subtle ways he liked to take care of you like handing you the remote, getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, standing up to draw the curtains when he noticed that the midday sunlight was a little too harsh on your face⁠) it was all too easy for you to reach for a golden piece, tossing it his way or feeding it to him yourself, the treat paired with the various ways you liked to show how much you appreciate him.

Your rewarding system was quite generous, and a few days later you’ve almost exhausted the supply. Despite that, you still munched on the gold pieces as you binge watched The Big Bang Theory with Jeno. You were half-sat and snuggled up on the bed, his arm hugging round behind you, ending with his hand laying softly on your tummy. His head was tilted to the side, resting against yours. The only bit of affection you had to offer was your leg strewn over his, your arms cradling the clear bowl instead.

You popped a piece in your mouth in time as one of the characters, Sheldon, offered the same to Penny. You giggled at the coincidence, shifting a little to your side before holding up the last piece from the bowl. “Chocolate?” Jeno chuckled at your offered mimicry, pushing your wrist down with his hand. “You sure?”

There was a hint of conflict in the way he pursed his lips before asking you, “Do you need anything?”

“Um, no.” Your eyebrows scrunched a bit from the untimely question. “Just you.” He smiled at your answer. His hand trailed from your stomach to your thigh, expressing his sentiments through a light squeeze. “This is the last piece, though. Sure you don’t want it?” His eyes darted between you and the chocolate.

“If it’s the last one…” He took it gingerly from your fingers, lifting his hand from your thigh to remove the wrapper. “…then you can have it.” His hand squeezed your cheeks, making you jump a little as he quickly fed you the treat with his other hand, his finger brushing the inside of your puckered lips. You blinked at him, mouth still parted when his touch left you. “What? Not even a ‘thank you?’” He cocked his head in amusement, tempering your surprise into embarrassment as you pulled your gaze away.

You rolled your eyes although warmth still coated your cheeks. Jeno was always the affectionate kind, but that was only when the two of you were alone, free from any outward stares. Now that you lived together, it’s been three days of having you all to himself and subjecting you to the full extent of his mushy tendencies, as if making up for all the opportunities he lost to wandering eyes.

Not once in the last three days has he failed to send your heart lurching to your ribs, but not once have you directly admitted to it either, refusing to be the one who’s always on the flustered end of the relationship. He’s just been more attentive to your needs, more shameless in expressing his feelings, and even more helpful than he was before, which was already a lot as it was.

Like he was privy to your thoughts, he broke the silence with an “Are you feeling hungry? Iʼll go make ramyeon for us.” You nodded, perfectly aware that heʼd take your portion into account regardless of your answer. “Just in case you change your mind,” heʼd say.

You shimmied onto his spot once he left the bedroom, burrowing your back into his side of the bed and bunching the covers up against you. “His butt’s so warm,” you thought, snickering to yourself.

Minutes into watching the episode alone, the apartment scenes weaved back into the story and your laughter wafted through the air as you watched the repetitive interaction between the two characters. Penny cleared up the table after eating, followed by “Chocolate?” from Sheldon, taking and eating it without a second thought. She sat on the couch, careful to keep Sheldon’s seat vacant, “Chocolate?” She excused herself to the hallway for a phone call, “Chocolate?” She caught herself from disrupting anime night, “Chocolate?” You giggled at the first few instances, but it grew weaker and weaker as an eerie feeling overcame you, and soon the fake sitcom laughter was left unaccompanied in your silence.

“I know what you’re doing,” Leonard told Sheldon. “You’re using chocolate as a positive reinforcement for what you consider correct behavior!”

“Very good! Chocolate?”

You gawked at the screen as an epiphany landed on you. Is that the reason for Jeno’s amplified devotion? “Chocolate?” You whisper-shouted to yourself, mind replaying all the times you tossed a sweet trinket his way, flickering between doubt and shock at the revelation.

“Stop using my girlfriend as your lab rat!” Leonard whined.

To your surprise, you answered a defensive “I’m not!” to the screen. “I’m not… right? Holy shit.” The discovery was like a douse of cold water and the longer you pondered on it the more it made sense, the more ideas blossomed in your mind, and you plunged deep into a world that was equal parts strange and full of curious, unexplored possibilities.

You’re not given enough time to process it as you’re called out to the dining table. You carried the empty bowl with you, your bare feet dragging on the floor as you walked your way to your boyfriend whose back was turned to you. You propped the bowl at the end of the table and sat opposite him, his lips tugging upwards at the sight of you. He dug in rather enthusiastically, and after a few happy bites he took notice of your stillness. “Why aren’t you eating?”

You sounded an oh at the question, broken from the jumbled thoughts still running about your head, and took a small sip. He frowned, grabbing the spoon from your hand. “Want me to feed you myself?” He said it like a threat, the beginnings of a skewed smile on his expression.

Your nose scrunched at the suggestion, but you untensed as you considered using it as a chance test of sorts. You looked up to him with unsure eyes, clearing your throat. “That—I’d like that,” you mumbled, your gaze focused at the skin between his eyebrows. It was a trick you learned whenever you couldn’t look him in the eyes, something that’s been happening a lot lately.

Pleasant surprise painted over his features, and he didn’t question your easy compliance. Soon enough his elbows were leaned on the table, and he was feeding you and eating alternately out of the same utensils. Getting spoonfed wasn’t as bad as you imagined, but what you couldn’t take was the proximity. His face was so near yours that you could see each of his eyelashes in the awkward intervals when both of you just chewed in silence.

“Too close…” You gave him a weak push on the arm he was leaning on just as he was trying to give you the next bite.

“I can go even closer—”

The dull thud of wood, metal screeching against tiles, and the sharp clang of silver was the background music to your surprise when Jeno leaned in even more. You had whacked at his hand and pushed your chair back, the silverware flying from his hand to the table before flopping to the floor.

The sound of disapproving tuts pulled your gaze from the mess of soup and noodles on the floor, landing on the bright orange stain on your boyfriend’s shirt. An apology hung by the tip of your tongue, only to fizzle when you felt his thumb swipe on your cheek.

“Bad girl,” he mumbled as he wiped off the few drops that splashed onto you.

You kept shifting your glance around the dining area before gathering the wits to stand up and get a cleaning rag. Your stubborn refusal to look his way was enough for him to know that the feeding session was over, so he cleared up the ceramics as you took care of the mess. Once everything was spick and span again, you were ready to drown in the bedsheets and forget about how flustered you got at being called a bad girl, until the source of your embarrassment cleared his throat, calling your attention.

“Aren’t you forgetting something…?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, I’m sorry?” you tried, the hint of a wince on your features as he chuckled at your reaction.

“No…” His gaze whipped to the end of the table, face falling at the sight of the clear bowl being empty. “Oh.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to have the last piece?” The confidence swelled in you at the reminder that this was your little test, and his reaction might have just proved your hypothesis.

“I did…” he mumbled, eyes not leaving the bowl, a little crease between his eyebrows and his lips set to a pout. You almost felt bad thinking he looked adorable like this, almost considered if you could have conditioned yourself into spoiling him with the chocolates. You brushed the thought off, heading to the fridge to get water for both of you. As the door swung back, something glinted in the corner of your eye, sandwiched between two eggs in the tray. Gold.

You had no idea how it got there, but you snatched it up, completely forgetting about the water. “Jen?” He looked up, lips still pouting. “Fetch!”

It was comical, strangely caricature-like when he trapped the projectile chocolate in both hands, face lighting up as he held the gold circle in his palm. A weird feeling crept on your nerves as you watched him eat it, your mind playing little games on you as the image of him with a happy, wagging tail flashed before your eyes.

You shook the thought away, walking over to him and wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. The embrace doesnʼt last, the wet feeling from the stain on his shirt making you back away.

“You need to wash up,” you commented, nose scrunched.

“This is your fault, you know.”

“Yeah, and I said sorry.” He laughed, cupping your face in his hands.

“Alright then. Wanna join me in the shower?” You slapped a hand to his chest, making him laugh even louder. “Right, fine. Iʼll have you in there someday, though. I promised every room, remember?” He wiggled his eyebrows, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose before making his way to the bedroom.

You walked behind him, plopping onto the bed as he got ready for a shower. You waited for him to close the bathroom door before fishing your phone out.

There was an urgent call you needed to make.

“Hello, Peaches!” It only took two rings before you heard the familiar nickname greet you, Donghyuck’s teasing voice penetrating through the line. Hearing your best friend brought a smile to your face, a little disbelief coursing through you that you didnʼt talk a peep in the last three days. “How’s marital bliss?” The question stretched your smile even further. You used to get annoyed from how he always referred to you and Jeno as a married couple, but you were quite used to it now.

“It’s the worst.” Your tone dripped with faux exaggeration. “I do nothing all day but get smothered with love, attention, and food. A divorce might be in the works soon.”

“Sounds tough, but I’ll throw you the biggest bachelorette party post-divorce and get you drunk out of your wits you might just wake up married to me.”

You snorted. That sounded exactly like something he would do. “Funny, but bachelorette parties are for unmarried—” You halt your own words, analyzing the notions of his statement in your head. “Wait…. that actually makes more sense than tradition.”

“Right? I’m the genius everyone refuses to acknowledge.” You heard a clatter in the background, likely that he knocked something down with the animated hand gestures he always did.

“Anyway, how’s life?” you asked. “You haven’t burned anything down in my absence, have you?” He still had a couple weeks left before he moves out of the flat you used to share.

“I had to hold myself back from torching the sofa, you know? All those nights I had to feign ignorance when Jeno finger banged you under the blanket on movie nights,” he sighed. “If only the memory could go down in flames.”

Your jaw dropped at the confession. “You what—”

“Oh, the things you thought you got away with!” Your eyes only grew wider. You knew perfectly well about those things, alright. It made you feel a little guilty, but considering Donghyuck had his fun acting all mean towards your boyfriend most of the time, you thought it was only fair. “Don’t you remember? Magnolias, violets, freesias…”

The names of flowers seemed random and only sparked confusion. Hyuck suddenly sparked an interest for floral scents when you began university, although he could never for the life of him do any actual gardening. You remembered how he could always sense them though no one can, asking “Doesn’t it smell like carnations?” to both you and Jeno on the nights he came over—

Oh.

“I was trying to send signals but who was I kidding? Neither of you could even come close to my wavelength,” he bragged.

You couldn’t stop the images that flashed through your head of all the quickies and hushed sexcapades, coating you in embarrassment as you realized that almost without fail, there was a mention of a flower from your best friend after every deed.

“Hyuck! Couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person?”

“And act like a total cockblock? Jeno and I don’t always see eye to eye, but I wouldn’t do that to anyone. What’s good for me is I’ve collected enough blackmail material to ask for your firstborn,” he snickered. “Now tell me why did you decide to disturb my perfectly peaceful present? Wait, no, hold your thoughts. Did you notice my genius there? Alleviation.”

“What?” You’re pulled back to reality by the out-of-place word, not understanding what “alleviation” he was talking about. Was it some new kind of slang?

“The three p’s! Perfectly peaceful present. Uh-lee-vee-aye-shun. Geez, woman. Aren’t you supposed to complete 18 units of English for law admission?” You soaked in a few seconds of silence as you processed what he meant.

“Hyuckie…”

“What?”

“Alliteration!” You barely got the word out before bursting into a fit of giggles. “You’re talking about alliteration!” Your laughter rang out uninhibited as you imagined the frozen look he would have on his face whenever he was flustered.

“Well! It’s not my area of expertise.”

“Right. Sure. Whatever,” you said in between snorts.

“I’m hanging up—”

“Wait, no! Iʼm in dire need of your expertise right now. There’s something I’m not quite sure about and I think you would know about it.” Your best friend loved to tease, but he never liked it when it was mutual. He was petty and you knew he would have dropped the call and not picked up for the rest of the evening if you didn’t suck up.

“I’m listening.”

“I might have done something involving Jeno and chocolate…” you trailed off, not sure how to introduce the situation directly.

“When you said ‘area of expertise,’ I thought you meant psychology, not some kinky shit—”

“No!”

“—although neither is wrong—”

“Oh, shut up! I am referring to psychology.” You didn’t give him any more chances to derail the conversation, the events of earlier tumbling out of you quick and easy. Jeno, chocolate, big bang, positive reinforcement.

“That’s where my chocolates went? You bitch! Although I can’t say I’m surprised.” You shrugged at his reaction out of habit. “The show’s right for the most part. Positive reinforcement. It’s under a process called operant conditioning, wherein an association is formed between the behavior and the consequences of a behavior through positive or negative—”

“In English, maybe?”

“I am speaking English. You just speak dumb.” Your eyebrows furrowed at the insult, ready to retort until he cut you off. “Anyway! Operant conditioning is rewarding or punishing to either reinforce or discourage certain behaviors. It’s a learned response and it’s voluntary. That’s what you think you did by bribing your kind boyfriend into becoming your slave over some cheap ass chocolate coins.”

You frowned at the explanation and his choice of words, but you expected just as much. “Great. Thanks for that perspective. Now I feel guilty, thanks.” It was his turn to laugh on the other line.

“It’s not that deep, Peaches! I bet Jeno’s just a soft dom who wants you to be his baby.” You heaved retching sounds into the air. “Serious! That boy’s an open book and I’ve been reading him since day one. Dom vibes all over. Has he asked you to call him Daddy yet?” The retching sounds intensified. “Even if you did somehow condition him, it’s nothing to fret over. We do that to children! They use it in schools. It’s a teaching technique and it’s normal. Plus, if you succeeded I would count it as a damn good feat. God knows I tried to get you to regularly wash the dishes with ice cream.”

You resonated with his point, but you had to sigh. “And here I was thinking you treated me so often out of the kindness in your heart.”

“Kindness and a heart? You ask too much of me,” he continued as you chuckled. “You know what would be really fun though? There’s another kind of conditioning. Classical conditioning. It trains involuntary response. There was this guy named Pavlov who did an experiment on dogs—he was a piece of shit, by the way—and what he did was he rang a bell every feeding time. Eventually the dogs would salivate with just the sound of that bell, even without the presence of food. They’ve equated the two stimuli, food and sound, to the same involuntary response.” You shaped an O with your lips in shades of understanding and amazement. “So what I’m saying is, since he seems to respond so easily, you should try Pavlov dogging your boyfriend.”

Your hand slapped the mattress as you shook your head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” His voice was exasperated at your swift rejection.

“You just called this Pavlov guy a piece of shit and you want me to follow in his light?”

“He was an animal abuser. I doubt youʼll be using any torture methods on little old Jeno, unless your few days in pleasure island have already turned you into some nasty freak—”

“Wouldnʼt that be illegal? Sounds like it could be a tiny bit illegal,” you cut him off before he could interrogate further on your bedroom habits.

“Last time I checked, you’re the one who’s going into law school, but if I say youʼre in the clear then don’t worry. I got 99% on my ethics final, after all.”

You scoffed. “This must be the missing 1%, then.”

He groaned into the call, letting out a prolonged sigh before pushing the agenda once more. “Just give it a good old fashioned try, you boring little sourpuss. I doubt Jeno would be too mad at all the oral heʼs gonna get.” Your thoughts froze over at that last sentence.

“Wait, no, rewind. Oral?”

“You didn’t think I was suggesting you do the bell thing, did you?” Your silence was the only answer you offered. “You absolute dum-dum. Of course I was suggesting something sexual!”

“Yeah. Right. Of course. Why would I think you would ever suggest otherwise,” you deadpanned. You were still in a bit of shock as the magnitude of his suggestion doubled down on you.

He hummed into the phone. “Do something like�� playing the macarena each time you go down on him.”

“Are you mental?” You almost shrieked, toning it down midway as you remembered Jeno was showering just some meters away.

“It’s a marvelous idea! Like an alarm tone for his dick. Hit him with a ‘Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena’ and Jeno junior is up and ready to dance!”

“God, I think I’m actually gonna be sick,” you grimaced, clutching your tummy for unseen effect.

“What do you suggest, then?” Hyuck challenged.

“Nothing! I’m not doing it.” You crossed your arms under your chest, sitting up on the bed.

“Pussy.”

“Nut case.”

“Wimp.”

“Loony!”

“I bet you’re just scared.” You scoffed at his drop of the magic word. “I bet your head game is too weak to make it happen, anyways.”

“Excuse me!” You huffed, about to defend yourself, but how does one do that on the topic of fellatio, of all things?

“Yes? Excuse you? What is it?” By the sing-songy tone of his voice, you just knew that he could sense your predicament. This was Donghyuck’s specialty, baiting you with bets. There was just something about being friends with the boy that naturally came with that childish competitive spirit, his snide arrogance only there to make matters worse.

“What are the stakes?” Your voice was uncharacteristically calm, almost unnerving.

“Glad you asked. See, you might have taken my chocolates but I guess you forgot something of yours.” You raised an eyebrow. You couldn’t have forgotten anything, you even had a checklist. “You know those two giant bags of dehydrated marshmallows you bought online? Are they even bags? They’re the size of sacks aren’t they? They arrived two days ago.”

“Oh my god.” Your heart dropped at the mention of the marshmallows. Lucky Charms are only valid for their marshmallows, and when you found out that 40 pounds of just the marshmallows were being sold online for a limited period, you made the quickest impulse purchase of your life. How could you forget? “They’re called marbits,” you whispered. Marshmallow bits.

“Oh your god indeed, and they can be called chalk bits for all I care. I’ve already opened one—”

“You did not!”

“—so stakes are on the one I left untouched. Unless, of course, your generosity wants to leave that to me too—”

“No. Deal. You’re on.”

His squealing laughter pierced through the speaker, making you hold the phone away from your ear. “Deal’s on what, though? How do you plan on Pavlov dogging the boyfriend?”

You nibbled on the corner of your bottom lip, still a little intimidated by the concept of… Pavlov dogging, but you also couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement slowly bubbling in you. “I don’t know yet, but I’m certain it’s not gonna involve the macarena in any way possible.” You grimaced at the reminder of that scarring mental image.

“Bo-ring!” He genuinely yawned at the end of the word, and you were reminded of his screwed up sleeping schedule, likely that he hasn’t had a wink of rest yet.

“I’ll figure it out and tell you ASAP,” you promised.

“You better. And I want full reports, detailed rundowns—”

“You’re disgusting.” Your nose scrunched at the implications.

“Of the progress, Peaches! What do you think of me? I’m purely academic on this, a professional researcher,” he insisted.

“Can’t believe I’m getting myself into this…” you muttered.

“You said the same thing when I bet you couldn’t get that popular biochem major’s number in our freshman year,” he said, “and look where you are now: in a loving, sexually fulfilling relationship with said biochem major for, what? Almost three years? You’re welcome, by the way.” You grumbled at the reminder. He wasn’t wrong, though. He just wouldn’t stop mentioning it every chance he got.

“Thank you, Hyuck. Meanwhile, get some sleep and do not touch the last bag of marbits.” He muttered his half-hearted assurances and exchanged goodbyes, and soon you were left to your own thoughts.

“What the hell did I just sign up for?” You’ve been pacing around the bedroom since the call dropped. Still, it had to be done. If not for shoving it on Donghyuck’s face, then for the marbits. And if not for the marbits… well, for your own curiosity. The most important thing was it had to be inconspicuous enough for Jeno to not notice. You didn’t know if self-awareness contributed to the effectiveness of conditioning, but you were enforcing this rule to save yourself the embarrassment of explaining the whole situation to Jeno. You walked in little uneven circles around the room until you stepped on something slippery, something silky. You looked down, and there was a shimmery purple peeking from under your toes.

A scrunchie.

You picked it up, sliding it over your wrist then bunching your hair up in your hands, thinking it might help your brainstorming if your hair was out of the way—

“Wait. That’s it!” you whisper-yelled. The apple dropping on Newton’s head was the hair tie suffocating your wrist. Blowjobs and ponytails! It was subtle and it was perfect. You went back around the room in excited little hops, like Archimedes running naked through Syracuse shouting ‘Eureka!’ except your journey to the closed bathroom door was in silence. You leaned an ear against it, and it brought a sly smile to your face to hear the shower still running. You peeked at your left hand with the purple silk around it, bolstering your confidence as you turned the unlocked knob and entered quietly.

The door opened to a wide space of black tiles, a large built-in bathtub to the right. The sinks and mirrors were some feet before you, attached to the singular wall of white marble that stood in the middle of the room. The shower area was on the opposite side of the partition, and you walked barefoot and nimble towards it, stopping a few steps in front of the mirror as you contemplated whether to take your white shirt and booty shorts off. You decided in favor of leaving them on, wanting to give him a full show of you in wet clothes as you took care of him.

You stepped past the wall, into the area in front of the glass shower encasement where the tiles transitioned into a patch of white smooth decorative rocks. Jeno had his eyes closed with his back to the shower head, giving you a slightly clouded view of his nude front as you stood just outside the sliding door unbeknownst to him. Your eyes trailed along with the water caressing his skin, flowing down from the side of his face, his neck, the defined ridges of his abs, and downwards more until you’re met with a stroke of unexpected luck.

He was already hard, curved cock proudly pointing upwards.

The sight had you taken aback, startled and aroused, and in your daze your foot slipped a little on the rocks, the noise distinct against the sound of running water that alerted Jeno to open his eyes. He didn’t look surprised to find you in front of him, his expression slowly morphing into a smirk as he regarded you with half-lidded eyes.

“I was just thinking of you,” he said, not moving from where he stood.

“What about me?” you answered softly, stepping a little closer to the sliding door, eyes trained on his.

“About every which way I planned on ruining you tonight,” his lips tugged higher upwards, “and it seems you appeared right out of my imagination. Are you here to help me fulfill my promise?”

You didn’t answer, sliding the door open in front of you, a gust of warmth and humidity invading your atmosphere. You stepped inside, feet met with cold wet tiles, not bothering to shut the door behind you as you walked straight up to your boyfriend and caught his lips in yours in a soft kiss, your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. The warm water traveled from his bare chest down to your clothes, soaking you and making the fabric cling to your skin. His erection rubbed against you as you pressed closer to him, breaking the kiss as he groaned.

You slid down to your knees, hands dragging on his body, settling on the backs of his thighs. Jeno found it harder to breathe, the air going through his parted lips heavier as he drank in the sight below him. Your white shirt was soaked see through, hinting at the lace bra you had underneath as you stared at him with a wide-eyed, guileless expression.

You rubbed your palms up and down his thighs, breathing hard on purpose so he could feel your warm breath so close to his need. He placed his hands on top of yours, ceasing their motion as he nudged his hips a little, just enough to bump his tip against your moist lips.

“No teasing baby,” he whispered. “I’ve been dreaming of your pretty mouth for too long in here.”

You smiled innocently before ducking your head down to lick a stripe on the underside of his cock, from the base just until the ridge of his tip, careful not to touch his most sensitive part yet. He exhaled slowly from the warm, wet feel of the flat of your tongue, hitching abruptly when you took a ball in your mouth, suckling gently, drawing breathy grunts from him before you switched to the other one.

You sat back for a second, admiring his cock looking even stiffer than before, the veins wrapped around it bulging. Your core ached to have it buried in your walls, thighs squeezing together for some relief, but that’s not what you were here for right now.

You pulled your hands to the front, and you’re greeted by the bright purple on your left hand again, smirk pulling at your lips. You wrapped both hands on his length, fists going back and forth as you twisted them in opposite directions, applying just the right pressure to make him lean an arm on the wall beside him, watching you with eyebrows scrunched and mouth dropped open.

His receptiveness made you smile wider, your grip growing firmer, a deep, strangled moan escaping him. You pressed a light, chaste kiss to his tip, and he immediately bucked his hips forward, trying to push past your tightly shut lips. You looked up gain, smiling as you shook your head no.

His tip was leaking pre-cum, and you stuck your tongue out as you kept your motions constant, watching it collect and drip down before you caught it on your wet muscle, moaning and licking your lips before poking your tongue against his tip, trying to taste more of the clear liquid while Jeno hissed and pushed harder against your tongue.

You took mercy on him, pulling back to get ready for the main show. Your hands retreated to your hair, and you made sure to look him in the eyes as you twisted the scrunchie in smooth loops. Jeno smiled as he helped push the hair back from your face, but your hand flew to his wrist and pulled it in, holding his hand near your mouth as your tongue darted out to swirl around his index finger, and you giggled at the growl your lewd action incited.

You finally took him in your mouth, going halfway down his cock and bobbing back up and down again, your right hand pumping the rest of his length, your left massaging his balls. He let out a satisfied moan, his hand naturally moving to your bunched up hair and gripping it tight.

You withdrew with a popping sound, giving him a couple of firm tugs before you cupped both hands under your chin, coating them in your spit. You spread your palms flat on either side of his cock and began gliding them in opposing directions. You felt his thighs quiver a bit, and that was when you swirled your tongue in circles around the head of his cock, the wet sounds accompanying the splash of water behind him. The pitch of his moans climbed higher, and you’re surprised to hear him whine when you took his tip into your hot mouth, hollowing your cheeks around it and sucking in continuous, slow intervals, accompanied by the persistent glide of your palms on him.

“Baby, fuck,” he panted. “My baby’s a goddamn pro. Always so good for me. Love you so fucking much.” The praise had you moaning around him, your mind reeling and your thighs squeezing tighter together. You removed your hands from his cock, grabbing instead at his ass, your fingers digging into his skin. You slid your mouth further and further down his length slowly until you had the entirety of him down your throat. Jeno kept cursing at the air as his cock remained lodged in you, moving only with small bobs of your head, his tip prodding so deep inside you repeatedly, coaxing fat tears to form at the corner of your eyes as you found it harder and harder to breathe.

One of your hands dropped to your core, rubbing your clit through your shorts as you moaned and gargled around your boyfriend’s cock. He started twitching in your mouth and he bucked into you involuntarily, making you swallow and gag around his length, drawing a growl out of him.

To your surprise, his hand tugged on your hair, your lips dragging on his length as he pulled you off. Your first response was to gasp for air, but soon you were whining and pouting, grabbing at his thighs and trying to pull him back closer to you.

He bent down instead, pulling you up from under your arms until you were both standing. He tugged your shorts and underwear down together, and you lifted each foot up to help before he discarded both, landing with a wet splash behind him. He crouched down before you, pushed your thighs apart and lapped at your clit, his hands squeezing the backs of your thighs.

Shrill whimpers slipped from your mouth as Jeno kept making out with your pussy, keening when he started fucking you with his middle finger. It wasn’t nearly enough, and you rocked against his face, his nose nudging at your clit.

He pulled away from you after a few minutes, and before you could even complain his palm landed on your ass, making you gasp at the sharp contact, your body arching above him a little bit. Without warning, he stood up and lifted you by the hips, hoisting you on his shoulder high enough that your feet hovered above the floor, Jeno carrying you out of the shower. A confused squeak came out of you, but you wrapped your arms around his shoulder nonetheless, kissing on his neck.

“I’m fucking you on the bed,” he rasped. “I can get you wetter without all this water.” You didn’t contest, and you felt a little relieved because you were beginning to worry that the constant stream of hot shower was going to dry out his skin.

By the time he’s walked you out to the bedroom, you’ve already managed to leave two lovebites on his jaw. You lacked the time to admire your handiwork as Jeno dropped you down the mattress, your back landing on the soft cotton sheets. He tugged the hem of your shirt upwards, and you held your hands up as he pulled the wet fabric off you. You began to unhook your bra, but he beat you to it with a simpler solution of ripping the flimsy number into two pieces from the front.

“Jeno!” They weren’t the sturdiest pair, but they were worth the aesthetic and you were not too happy to see them lying ruined on the floor.

“I’ll buy you a whole closet,” he whispered before circling his tongue around your nipple. Your soft cries poured out of you continuously as the licking and sucking grew more intense, but your hand pulled at his hair when you remembered something.

“Wait. Babe, the shower,” you recalled in between pants.

“What?” It was a response on autopilot, Jeno paying you no actual mind as he just dived for your other nipple, fingers playing with the one you forced him to abandon.

“The water’s still running.” There was no response from him, just the feeling of his fingers trailing down your stomach, inching to the inside of your thighs. “Jeno.” Your fingers pulled on his hair again, harder this time, but it elicited a reaction other than what you hoped for as he groaned on your nipple, its effect ricocheting on you as you whimpered at the sound.

“The water bill isn’t a problem, baby.” Your back arched off the bed as he slipped two fingers into you, your already wet heat making it too easy for him to pump into you fast. “Now will you just let me—”

“I’m not worried about your—ah, fuck!—about your fat wallet. I’m thinking of Mother Earth!” Despite your aching need, you steeled your nerves and clamped your thighs together tight, pushing his hand away while your own body screamed at you for your actions.

He didn’t say anything as he looked at you with dark eyes, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek before he swiftly turned around, striding fast and aggravated as he headed back into the bathroom. His footsteps sounded heavy as he returned, and the look on his face told you that you were truly in for it tonight. He lifted your thighs up on his forearms, hooking onto them before he pulled your body to the foot of the bed and kneeled down the floor, his breath hot on your core.

“Just for that, I’m pulling at least five orgasms out of you tonight,” he declared before diving into you, your hands bunching up the sheets on either side of you, moans flying into the evening.

It was day seven of your determined “trials,” and Jeno was living his best life. Well, you both were, considering he was always more of a giver and liked to repay you five times over the mind blowing orgasms you gave him on the daily. Your hair tie collection was growing in size as well, buying new colors, shapes, sizes and patterns whenever the chance arose, not a day without one at the ready on your wrist.

Today, however, you were off-schedule for his wake-up blowjob because something else came buzzing at the doorbell, shaking the two of you out of the sleepy haze from last night’s activities. Jeno was anchoring you down with his arm across your body, mumbling that “it’s probably just a package,” and that there was no need to get up because “they’ll just leave it out front.” Thank the deity that looked down on you that day and blessed you with just enough strength to drag the two of you out of bed, because that was no delivery man outside.

It was his mom.

Of course, after the initial surprise wore off you gave her an easy smile, hugging each other before you helped her with the heavy bags she had on both arms, Jeno in turn taking them from you as you all gathered inside.

She fixed the groceries and side dishes she brought along with her, surveying the fridge and pantry to make sure you were both running on actual nutrition and not “all those instant bags of MSG” her son so loved. While she went about her business, she mentioned how she had texted Jeno a few days ago about her pending visit, something you never heard of until today. You gave Jeno a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and he picked up on your silent warning, quickly looking away and sparking conversation with his mom.

It’s not that you didn’t get along with his family. Oh no, you absolutely loved them and the feeling has been mutual since you were introduced on your first anniversary. But right now, with your hair a bird’s nest, your string top from the night before without even a bra on, you couldn’t wait for the privacy to give him a piece of your mind about the lack of a heads up. Maybe all that sex concentrated his blood down south and messed with his memory.

Lucky for him, his mom was a total sweetheart, her cheery countenance managing to fizzle out your irritation as she pulled out these huge photo albums from one of the bags. You giggled at his baby photos, his bum stark naked in half of them, the other half spotlighting the endearing eye smile he’s had since childhood. She was in the middle of another backstory, the one behind a photo of Jeno crying in what was apparently the set for a TV commercial, when her phone rang and interrupted her spirited narration.

“Your dad needs me for urgent business,” she explained after hanging up, flashing the whites of her eyes in jest at the last two words. Jeno was already walking to the door, about to grab the car keys off the hook.

“I’ll drive you—”

“Oh, don’t bother! He’s already parked out front.” She tipped her head towards you, giving you a knowing smile. “The men in this family are no good with giving advanced notices.” You grinned at her, shaking your head in solidarity.

Jeno’s gaze flitted to anywhere but on your person once you were alone again, but you didn’t do much damage other than playfully biting him on the arm. The encounter ended up giving you a fuzzy feeling inside, and you felt like you were able to bond with his mom on a deeper level. Relaxed. Comfortable. “Familiar,” you thought, mind lingering on how the word was rooted in “family.”

You began collecting the photobooks, stacking them on top of each other and placing them on the shelves in the living room. You looked into the bag they came from, checking if there was any more left inside, and you were greeted by a thin, rectangular box wrapped in dark emerald velvet. You picked it up, squinting at it before calling Jeno over.

“Babe? I think your mom left this by mistake.” He looked over to you from the kitchen island where he was preparing two bowls of cereal, his half moons growing into wide circles as he registered what you were holding up in the air. “I think we should call her and—”

He ran over to you, taking the box in your hand and bolting away.

“Where the hell are you going!” You had no idea what was going on, but you quickly ran after him, realizing he was headed to the guest room. He was a good few steps ahead, but before he could close and lock the door on you, you stretched your arm out, wedging your hand through the gap. Your lapse in judgment swiftly cracked down on you, the pain shooting through your fingers as the door slammed just beneath your knuckles, tearing a pained cry from you as you clutched the hand to your chest, squatting on the floor.

“Shitshitshitshit! I’m so sorry baby, shit, I’m sorry.” Jeno flung the door back open when he heard you yelp, immediately rushing to your side, prying softly at your arm so he could take a look at your hurt. There was a linear mark that ran across your fingers, colored in a red that was gradually deepening in shade, the digits shaking as you felt the blood throb in that area. He winced at the sight, and he felt even worse knowing for certain it was going to leave tender bruises for days. He murmured apologies in between the most gentle kisses to your knuckles, his hand wiping at the couple of tears that escaped you.

You stayed like that for a few minutes before he asked, “Does it still hurt?” You shook your head no. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head again.

“It was a stupid move, not your fault,” you assured him, sniffling a little. He helped you up, holding and guiding you inside the room, sitting you down on the bed so carefully as if the injury wasn’t just on your fingers.

“Wait here.” Your eyes landed on the emerald box now strewn on the floor near the door as he walked out, returning some minutes later with an ice cloth and lightly pressing it to your knuckles. “What was that about?” you asked, taking the cold pack from his hand to hold it on your own. He followed the trail of your sight to the box in question, taking a deep breath before retrieving it. He sat down next to you and opened the box.

It was a necklace, its chain a thin delicate silver, the big teardrop pendant a deep emerald like its container. It was the most elegant piece of jewelry you’ve ever seen, and you had to tear your gaze away before you could fall in love with it. You had to return it, after all.

“You should really call your mom. She’d probably get upset if she finds out it’s lost.”

“It’s not hers.” Your eyebrows scrunched in, confused at his reply. “I mean, it was hers. It was also my grandma’s, and my great grandma’s.” He took it out of the box, the stone glinting as it reflected the sunlight from the windows. “And now it’s yours.”

You were still busy staring at the pendant that turned gently from where it hung, scarcely registering his answer until it hit you like a truck.

“Mine?” you asked with wide eyes.

A hand sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck. “It was supposed to be your anniversary gift. I asked mom to send it over, I didn’t know she would go here to bring it herself. Must have missed her text.”

You gawked at him, still in disbelief that he was seriously handing over not only what must be of hefty price but also a family heirloom. You shoved his hand away from you. “You’re insane. I can’t take this. We have to give it back to your mom.”

He didn’t heed your words, unclasping the latch on the necklace. “She sounded even happier than I was when I called her about it. Trust me, if anything’s gonna break her heart, it’ll be if she finds this back in her drawer.” He gathered your hair to one side. You don’t miss the way he gulped, fingers lingering on the bunched strands.

“I understand how you’re feeling,” he continued. “You probably think it’s all going too fast, that I didn’t think this through, right? My grams got this on her first date, my mom within four months. Dad and pops probably gave it as something to prove their feelings, but this is different. We’re already solid, baby. The three years we’ve been in love is all the proof we need.

I’ve been serious about you for so long now, and each passing day I only grow more and more certain. Whenever my heart isn’t racing because of you, it rests easy and content knowing that you’re around. So I’m giving you this,” the chain was cold against your skin as he latched it around your neck, “because I want you to know that I’m sure about you—about us. And although it holds promises for our love in a future so far ahead of us, it also holds all the love I’ve bottled up for you in the last three years.” He cupped your face in both hands, lifting your gaze up to look him in the eyes, “So would you please, please indulge me and just drink it all up?”

By this point, your heart was squeezing almost painfully in your chest. You were no stranger to his sweet gestures, but unveiled declarations of love? It was rare for him to directly voice out his feelings longer than an ‘I love you.’ It made you feel like you were floating, your lips trembling as you spoke, “Fine, you smooth fucker.” The words were strong, joking, but the slight shake to your voice was otherwise. “I’ll take your bribe.”

“Thank god.” You were greeted by his eye smile before he ghosted a kiss to the corner of your lips, sparking a trail of light kisses that stretched down to where the emerald rested against the skin of your chest, goosebumps chasing after his touch as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I want to give your present early too,” you whispered, pulling his gaze back to your eyes as he hummed in question. You dropped the ice bag on the floor, your good hand thumbing on the thin strap of your top before pulling it down slowly past your shoulder.

“But you’re hurt…”

“It’s barely a scratch,” you fibbed, raising your other hand and bending the fingers. It was a little tender, but nothing too bad. He didn’t look convinced though, about to reach for the ice again before you captured his wrist in your hand. “Jeno… I want to love you right now, baby. Please? Wanna make you feel loved…”

You pulled on the other strap and dragged the thin fabric downwards to bunch at your waist, your breasts bouncing as they were freed from the tugging, your nipples hard and aching to be touched. You leaned in to draw him into a kiss, but his hands smoothed on your jaw, holding you in place as his eyes searched into yours.

“If you’re doing this because… because you feel like you’re obliged to repay me or something—”

You cut him off by clashing your lips together, starting out rough and gradually easing into each other like a sigh of relief. You broke off for air, the worry on his brows still present although toned down. “You’re really talkative today, I noticed. We’ve never had this problem before…” you said, and it was true to an extent. Apart from first times he wanted to make special and that one drunken incident, you couldn’t recall a moment where Jeno hesitated or turned down a chance to have you. “I’m doing this, like always, because I love you,” you clasped your hands behind his neck, thumbs rubbing over his skin soothingly. “I love you every single day, but right now I’m filled to the brim and about to spill over so…” You leaned your face closer, lips barely brushing against his as you whispered, “…can you drink me all in?”

His eyes fluttered shut at the feel of your warm breath, your soft lips, obliging with feather-like presses of his closed mouth, gradually parting it open after each peck until it was as if a dam of desire and emotions ruptured in him and he had to pull you in as close as possible to shield you from the deluge, kissing like you were drowning and needed to share the oxygen in each other’s lungs to survive.

You were both a mess of gasps and pants when you broke apart. He pulled you to stand along with him, and he kneeled down to undress you, his usual callousness for clothes missing as he gently tugged every piece off you until there was nothing left hidden from his eyes. He went back to his feet, dragging his fingertips upwards from your legs to your sides as he did, and lifted you off the floor to lay you down on the bed.

His eyes soaked you in as you lied before him, fully exposed. He’s stunned, gaze trained to the teardrop gem in the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with the heave of your chest.

“Jeno…” Your whine tore him from the daze, seeing your knees bent up, thighs squeezed and rubbing together to ease some of the tension from your glistening core. You watched him bend down to the foot of the bed, picking something up that was out of your sight, but he was empty handed as he climbed to the bed, crawling closer, fully clothed and hovering above you.

He supported himself on one arm bent above your head as he bowed into you, your bare body pressing on him as he kissed you deep, tongue stroking against yours, coaxing the sweetest sounds out of you. It was rhythmic and dance-like each time he dived into you, exploring you, and then resurfaced for air, pressing wet kisses on your face, neck, and shoulders, not a single second wasted without the touch of his lips on your skin. The heat rising in you was becoming unbearable, you needed him to do more, to touch you even more. Like he heard your silent plea, his other hand caressed the skin of your waist, and you jolted from the bed, breaking away from his lips, shivering.

His fingertips were cold as ice, a reminder of the ice bag you left below flickering through your mind, the thought crumbling just as fast when his cold touch dragged to the inside of your thighs, grazing the sensitive skin up and down, your breaths coming out like stutters as they stop and start in reaction to the chilly feeling on your skin.

“J-jen…” Your whimpers were small, desperate, transitioning to a strangled gasp when he tapped tentatively on your clit, the sensation like a spark of electricity on the sensitive bud. Your moans poured out, core growing wetter and wetter as he rubbed your nub and sucked bruises onto your chest, surrounding the gem that you wore. The aching heat on your clit was thawing his fingers back to their warmth, and you keened as he replaced them with his thumb, his fingers easing into your velvet walls instead.

He pushed and pulled at an agonizing pace, and you bucked your hips trying to get him to speed up. He relented, pumping into you faster, his thumb nudging at your clit every time. He swallowed your frantic moans into a kiss, not slowing down when he felt your walls fluttering around his digits, allowing your first orgasm to crash on you easily.

He landed butterfly kisses on your hairline as you descended from the high, and you opened your eyes to find his lust-filled gaze on you, his pupils blown wide with want. You tugged at the bottom of his shirt, and he took the hint, lifting it off his torso, your hands quick to find purchase on the exposed skin, caressing the hard muscles that adorned it.

Begrudgingly, he had to pull away from your touch, getting off the bed to shed his lower garments. While he busied himself for a few seconds, you quickly shifted your weight on the bed, moving onto your knees and elbows, chest down and ass up in the air.

Jeno gulped when his eyes met your figure, all prepped and ready for him, the desire to take you slow and easy evaporating into something more primal and animalistic. His eyes focused on your waiting, soaked heat. He could have exploded the moment your hand reached from underneath you, your index and middle finger spreading your folds apart, a gush of moisture trickling down as you stretched yourself open for him, a needy moan of his name slipping past your lips.

He couldn’t help but groan, the blood rushing straight to his desire, his fist pumping on his painfully hard cock, spreading the pre-cum down on his shaft as he got on his knees on the bed, his other hand gripping onto you by the hip. He rubbed his tip on your slit a few times, gathering your slick on the head of his cock before slipping to the hilt into your waiting need, pushing a moan out of you both.

He started out slow, hips rolling sensually in and out of you, every ridge and vein of his cock so pronounced to your walls at his laggard tempo. It was clear he was having a hard time restraining himself, his fingertips digging into your hip telling you just as much, so you wiggled against him, sinking lower into the mattress and stretching your arms out straight in front of you so your upper body was flat against the bed, your ass going higher and pressing onto him.

He grunted at your eagerness, thrusting harder into you, rocking you forwards on the bed. Your body arched even higher when he drilled into you from a downwards angle, his tip massaging the sensitive spot inside you with every roll of his hips. You cried obscenities into the air, your gaze lifted upwards, and your eyes trailed up your tense outstretched arms, landing on the thin black elastic on your wrist

The reminder brought a wicked grin to your face, and you placed a hand on top of his that was gripping on your hips, propping yourself up with your other hand on the mattress. You shifted on your knees until you were kneeling upright, movements careful to not to slip his entire length out of you just to plunge back down on his cock.

His legs folded back as you sat on him, your ass nestled snugly against his pelvis, the new position eliciting a deep groan from him. His chest was flush to your back, cock buried in you as deep as he can get. Soft, wet kisses littered your right shoulder as his hands traveled to your breasts, cupping the mounds from underneath and giving them a firm squeeze as he bucked his hips into yours harshly, jolting both your bodies up from the mattress before slowly descending and jutting into you again, hard. Like rushing ocean waves that crashed violently against rocks, over and over. Like his body was the unyielding storm and it was wreaking havoc on every inch of you.

Your scattered moans were a mess in the air above you, scattered, breathy, erratic. Jeno trails a hand to the front of your heat, the pads of his fingers drawing messy circles on your swollen clit. Your eyes shut at the simultaneous stimulation all over: his open mouthed kisses on your shoulder, his fingers rolling your nipple and rubbing at your clit, his rigid cock against your walls, slamming in fast and dragging out slow in repeated motion.

It was so, so fucking good that you considered just letting him have his way with you, almost forgetting what you intended to do. Almost. You placed both hands on top of his and settled them on your hips. Wasting no time, Jeno used the leverage to lift your body up and down on his length. His pace only grew faster as he kept using you, fucking your body down on him.

“Jeno! Ah, babe, oh fuck, slow down.” He eased his grip on you, gradually playing down the tempo until he was just barely dragging you on his cock. He watched you from the back as your hands gathered your hair up into a loose ponytail, the motion smooth and delicate like a subdued kind of wonder in his eyes, and then you began bouncing on his length fast, clamping your walls around him on purpose.

“Fucking hell baby, you feel so good around me” he grunted, his fingertips jabbing into your skin but not interrupting your flow, letting you lead the pace. He bit his lip as he watched you sink onto his length, swallowing him and then pushing yourself back up, revealing your lips stretched and gripping his cock so tight. His eyes trailed up the skin of your bare back as you rode him faster, gaze going higher and higher until it landed on the loose tie on your hair, staring at the way it began slipping down from your feverish motions until it eventually landed on your back.

You stopped abruptly, whining “Put it back on me,” but Jeno didn’t answer. He was confused by your lack of motion, trying to lift you up in his grip until you slapped at his hands. “Tie my hair up for me.” He could practically hear the pout in your voice as he snatched the elastic from your back, groaning as you wiggled your hips on him.

You could feel his inexperience by how soft and wary his touch was, fumbling to gather your hair back. He’s probably never done it before, but he should know the motions by now from how often he’s seen you do it. He twisted the elastic twice, loose and sloppy, but it did the job. You smiled when his hands went back to your hips, and you resumed as if you never stopped, your pace relentless until you felt the hair tie slip down and you halted all action once more, whining for him to put it back on you again.

It was a loop of the same damned thing over and over, and you could feel his frustration by how quicker, how more careless he handled your hair each time. You were both getting edged by your stubbornness, and while it brought you amusement, it only gave him mirth that grew bigger and bigger until he couldn’t take it any longer. The next time the elastic fell, he tossed the wretched thing to the floor and bunched your hair up in his hand instead. You felt how hard he was gripping at your strands, stretching at your scalp as he angled your bodies higher off the mattress, kneeling you both up as he began thrusting into you himself.

Your body jostled forward at every lurch of his hips, the momentum stunted by his snug grip on your hair and an arm around your stomach. He used the constraint to pull your head back, exposing your neck to him, forcing a keen out of you as he bit and sucked on the delicate skin, leaving his marks on you.

Broken cries left you as his other hand fondled with your breast, gently tugging your nipple upwards in time with his thrusts. Your walls were beginning to contract around his cock, and before you could completely lose yourself on him, he slowed down and shifted you both on your sides. He embraced you tight against him, spooning as he resumed fucking into you, his tongue lapping at the bite marks he left on your neck, whispering sweet nothings against your skin.

“Babe… oh god, I‘m gonna cum,” you gasped.

“That’s my good girl,” He slipped his hand in front of you, massaging your clit to take you there faster, moans slipping out of you continuously. “Let go for me baby. I’m right here, I got you.”

“Fuck, Jeno—I love you baby, fuck!” you cried through your orgasm. Jeno didn’t stop thrusting, his fingers didn’t stop rubbing on your clit, making your whole body seize up with each contraction of your walls around him, milking around him until you felt his warmth spill into you, his grunts littering the air and his motions stilling save for his cock twitching as he painted your walls in white.

“I love you,” he whispered against your hair after releasing his hold on the strands. “Love my baby so much, always so good for me.” He showered you in praise and affection as he soothed a palm on your arm, rubbing softly on your skin, pressing innocent kisses to your neck.

Once you’ve filled your lungs back with air, you tapped on his hip behind you, signaling for him to pull out. You turned to face him on the bed, careful to clamp your thighs together so you don’t make a mess on the sheets.

He smiled contentedly at your tired and fucked out expression, his hand moving the hair away from your chest, revealing the necklace still clinging to your sweaty skin.

“I still think this is too much,” you rasped, holding the pendant between your fingers.

“Are you still thinking of giving it back after I fucked you in it?” You punched his arm, weak from all the effort exerted from your lovemaking. “Guess you’ll freak when I give you the matching earrings for our fourth anniversary, then.”

“Jen!” Your eyes widened at his off-handed comment.

“Be glad it isn’t the ring,” he smirked. “I’m saving that for the biggest occasion.”

You blinked, lips parted as you surveyed his expression, trying to figure out if he was being serious. You gathered your bearings quick enough, shaking your head at him and showing him the red marks still visible and a little darker on your hand.

“You did give me four other rings, though.”

He frowned at the reminder, taking your hand by the wrist and holding it above your head, concerned and a little annoyed that he almost forgot. “Keep these elevated,” he said, tone strict. You chuckled and left it at that, staring at his eyes that flitted over each of your features, licking his lips before he looked you in the eyes again.

“What if I told you we’re getting married after we graduate?”

You were stunned for a second. You’ve never seriously talked about the possibility of that before. That was definitely too soon, and you were both too young, so you dodged the question with another of your own. “You’re that confident I’ll marry you?” You replaced your shocked expression for a teasing smirk, one which he returned easily.

“I’m really confident in my arms,” he began, making you squint at what seemed like a remark of vanity, “that I can just flip you over my shoulder and kidnap you to the altar if I must.”

You giggled, lightly hitting his arm when the cute scene cropped up in your mind’s eye. When the laughter died down, your eyes gazed into his to find them swimming in sincerity and adoration.

“Slow down there,” you whispered, the smile never leaving your lips. Every fiber in your being loved Lee Jeno, and it sent tingles through your skin and a pleasant kind of dizziness to think that he wanted to spend a lifetime loving you because you wanted it too, but you weren’t ready for wedding vows. You both had too much left to accomplish individually, and you wanted to chase those milestones together before settling down.

He didn’t push it, understanding that look in your eyes, pressing a kiss to your nose instead. “Our internships are starting soon,” he offered. “I’m gonna miss you when I’m back to spending my days with Jaemin in the lab.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were relieved at the shift in topic. “Babe, we literally live together now. We’ll still see each other everyday.” You pinched his ear between your fingers, making him scrunch his nose at you. “And I know you miss your friends, don’t even deny it. You sure you don’t want to invite them over for an anniversary party?”

He was quick to shake his head. “Nope, no way. I want you all to myself on that day.” He put an arm around you, pulling you in even closer as you giggled.

“Isn’t that how it is for you everyday?” He didn’t bother answering, nosing affectionately at the crown of your head instead. You interrupted his sappy mood when you felt a pang in your tummy, realizing neither of you have eaten anything yet. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Shit,” his touch retracted from you as he sat up abruptly.

“That doesn’t sound too appetizing…” you trailed off, raising an eyebrow at his strange actions.

“The cereal! It must be all soggy now,” he frowned, standing from the bed and abandoning you without a second thought.

“I want eggs, sunny side up!” You shouted at his retreating figure. He raised a thumbs up into the air and you smiled, contented at the thought of a future that held the same sight for all of your mornings.

“You’ve failed.” You rolled your eyes at Donghyuck’s dramatic line from the phone.

It was D-1 before your anniversary, and your best friend was annoyed that you’ve never called him back for updates since your betting game commenced. You had just told him about the method you had chosen, of Pavlov and ponytails.

“On the contrary, I’m quite sure I’ve succeeded,” you noted with a self-assured smile, recalling all the times you’ve successfully been riling Jeno up the past few days with just a swish of your wrist on your hair, leaving him baffled as to why his sex drive has gone through the roof lately.

“But you have no evidence of that.” Donghyuck was right, but you scrunched your eyebrows at the unlikely feasibility of this requirement.

“How the hell am I supposed to provide evidence of that! You want my boyfriend’s dick pics?”

“Hell no!” You sneered at his high pitched denial. “If you actually stuck with our agreement and gave me regular progress reports, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m a strict observer of the scientific method.”

You shook your head, just about done with his stubborn insistence. “You know what? You want proof? Fine.” You stood from the bed, walking off with the vigor of someone who’s about to win a horrific amount of marbits. “The codeword is orange.”

“The fuck are you on about?”

You smiled at his confusion. “When I say ‘orange,’ that means I just tied my hair up.” You stopped before the bedroom door, hand on the knob.

“Okay, and? Does Jeno shout back ‘lemon’ whenever he gets a stiffy?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just shut up and listen carefully, bitch.” You didn’t wait for his response, stuffing your phone in your pocket before opening the door and calling out, “Babe?”

“Yes baby?” You followed Jeno’s voice that rang from the kitchen, finding him pouring out a glass of water for himself before leaning against the counters, smiling at you. You gave him a bright smile of your own, silent as you neared him. He was probably expecting a hug and laid his cup down on the counter behind him, but he was surprised to see you sink down to your knees before him.

In three hard tugs, you’ve pulled his sweats and underwear down to set his soft cock free. Before anything else, you gathered your hair with both hands to one side of your neck, twisting it around but not tying it up just yet. Sure enough, his length twitched shortly after the action, but things weren’t going fast enough for you. You were motivated, sick as it may sound, by the thought of your best friend who was about to listen in on the filthy sounds of your victory.

“Babe, ah shit, what’s gotten into you?” You kept one hand wrapped around your hair as you began pumping him tight and fast in one hand, placing kitten licks on his tip, taking him into your mouth every now and then to get him nice and wet. There was no technique to it, no thought behind your actions as you just wanted him hard and ready fast. Once he was, you grinned up at his pleasured expression.

“Fuck my face.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, hopefully loud enough to conceal the squeak that came from your phone. He didn’t seem to notice, his hands moving to the sides of your face. “You sure baby?”

“As ever.” You gave him one last smile before dropping your jaw as wide as you can, sticking your tongue out. He drove into you slowly, and you had to do the work yourself to get around his hesitation, pushing forward until your nose was pressing against his skin.

“Fucking shit. What did I do to deserve you?” He drew out and thrusted into you carefully, and you closed your eyes momentarily in frustration. “Just go hard on me damn it,” you thought, digging your nails into his ass cheeks to drive in your silent point. As if there was a telepathic line between you two, he did just that, picking up speed until he was fucking your mouth at a steady pace, the gargling sounds of your throat getting abused drifting into the atmosphere.

Your eyes were stinging with tears but you powered through it until you ran out of breath, tapping rapidly against his thigh to let him know you needed a break. He withdrew from you, and your hands immediately flew to your hair.

“Orange,” you rasped out. If he noticed your little codeword, it was all swept into the wind, forgotten as an even bigger surprise came out. You expected him to drill into you harder, absolutely lose himself and go berserk like he usually did when you tied your hair up, but you didn’t expect him to cum on sight as you put your hair into a ponytail.

You were lucky when it came to reflexes, closing your eyes by instinct before he shot the first load onto your face. “Shit, baby, holy fuck, god fuck.” He was rambling, not making any sense as he kept pumping himself in his hand, no regard for you as he painted himself on your eyelids, cheeks, your mouth that was opened in shock. You stayed still, breath heaving as you took it like a champ, thick lines of his cum dripping on your skin, your tongue darting out to lick whatever it could reach.

“Baby, oh my god, sorry.” You couldn’t check to see if the apology looked sincere, waiting as he helped you clear the cum from your eyelids using his thumb, a surprised squeak coming out of you when you felt him push the digit into your mouth, making you suck it clean before he collected the rest of his cum and fed it all to you repeatedly.

He didn’t hesitate to bring you into a grateful kiss once he had most of your face cleaned, alternating between his ‘thank you’s’ and ‘sorry’s’ while his breathing was still recovering. You assured him it was alright and that you liked it, watching his ears tinge red from your admission before excusing yourself to the bathroom for a proper clean up.

You fished your phone out once you’ve locked the door behind you, checking the screen and smirking to find that the call was still active. “Better bring me my marbits in two days, sucker.” You laughed at the irony and dropped the call, not waiting to hear his reaction. Not like it mattered, your best friend made sure to blow up your phone just seconds apart.

Hyuck: FVCK YPU!!!!! Hyuck: Did he CUM from you tying your hair up? That’s fifty shades of FUCKED UP Hyuck: You actually done did it Hyuck: That was DISGUSTING Hyuck: But also kinda hot Hyuck: But disgusting! Hyuck: How the fuck am I supposed to eat oranges now Hyuck: Never do that to me again Hyuck: Unless…

You laughed to yourself, leaving everything on read.

Hyuck: Cocksucker. Enjoy your chalk bits.  Hyuck: And your anniversary tomorrow too, I guess.

It was D-day. Three whole years of being Jeno’s girlfriend, and the thought still gave you whiplash whenever you realized how much time that actually was. 156 pages from your weekly calendar. 1,095 sunrises, times two for the sunsets. 26,280 hours, and you couldn’t be bothered with the math for minutes and seconds. There were countless ways to express how time has passed since you first said yes to each other, and all of that just went by in a blur.

Today seemed to have the same theme, a blur of kisses and sex from the moment you woke up and promises of an event-filled day. You were coaxed out of sleep by wet kisses to the inside of your thigh, the strands of your boyfriend’s hair rough against your skin as his hands kept you spread open, greeting you a “Good morning” and a “happy anniversary” from between your legs. He made quick work of you with his tongue and had you cumming twice before you tapped out. You wanted to take him inside you, but he was stubborn to deny your request, saying he didn’t want you sore so soon because he planned on fucking the daylights out of you tonight. You didn’t hate the idea, so you came to a compromise and had him fuck your tightly closed thighs instead, letting him cum all over your belly.

You managed to sweet talk him into divulging his plans for the day during your innocent absolutely-no-funny-business shower together, and now you were out on the main road in his car, on the way to the mall to buy you an evening dress on the spot for the fancy dinner he had on reservation for 9:00 p.m. The ride was quiet as you held hands, watching the stretch of road ahead of you. You looked over to your boyfriend, biting the nail of your other hand as you felt that he looked a little too peaceful for your tastes, an impish idea crossing your mind.

Though you already won the bet yesterday, the effects of your secret experiment were far from wearing off. You disentangled your hand from his, exaggerating your motions as you put your hair up to make sure he noticed from the corner of his eye. You smiled at his way when you heard an awkward clear of his throat, and from this setting there was no way he could have hidden the hard on tenting in his jeans.

You pursed your lips to keep you from laughing, leaning over a little to have your hand palming at his jeans, his exhale coming out slow from the contact. The car went a little out of lane when you squeezed him and rubbed the outline of his length, making him hiss before quickly correcting the wheel.

“You want us to crash? Because that’s how you get a crash,” he warned, right hand holding your guilty wrist captive. You huffed but sat back to your seat in favor of road safety. It didn’t mean you couldn’t have your own fun, though. You sneaked a hand under your skirt, moaning softly as you rubbed yourself through the fabric of your panties.

“Babe.” His tone of voice was an order despite not actually saying anything. You decided to push his limits though, moaning a high pitched “Baby?” back at him. You smirked to find his jaw clenched hard, but your heart almost dropped when you saw the mall nearing, not expecting the trip to feel so short. You held your breath as he parked the car, wordlessly clicking your seatbelt off. You were surprised at how aggressively he pulled the handbrake up and pushed his seat as far back as he could, staring at him with wide eyes as he tapped his fingers on his lap.

“Come here,” he said in a low voice, the sound shooting straight to your core. You obeyed easily, struggling to straddle him in the cramped space.

“What happened to not wanting me sore?” you accused with a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck that, I’ll just kiss your pussy better tomorrow.” You giggled as he caught your lips in a rushed, frantic kiss, humping your clothed desires against each other.

“Does this count as ‘against the windows?’” you breathed out the question when the kiss broke off. He only gave you a confused look before he sneaked his hand underneath your blouse, kneading at your breasts from the cups of your bra. “He must have forgotten already,” you thought as you mewled from his rough touch. It was his checklist of promises: the bedroom, couch, showers, guest room, kitchen, and even against the windows.

Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers shadowing on your clothed heat, aching to have him push your underwear to the side and take you then and there. Instead, he pressed a thumb to your clit quite harshly, taking you by surprise and making you retreat from the stimulation, and you both jumped as you accidentally backed into the steering wheel and a prolonged honk left the car.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes widening to find a security guard in the vicinity walking towards your direction. The windows were tinted, but someone could still see what’s going on through the windshield if they came close enough. He helped lift you back up to your seat, and you fixed yourself up for any possible encounter. You both breathed a sigh of relief when he walked past you, but there was no way you were finishing what you started in there, so he turned off the engine and practically pulled you by the hand into the mall, muttering about “having you in the nearest shop with a changing room.”

Lady Luck was on his side as you found the perfect black dress with a sweetheart neckline in the second shop you entered. You gushed about how great it would look with the necklace he gave you, but Jeno was barely responsive as his one track mind had him pulling you to the back of the store, entering the section with a row of changing cubicles and rushing you into the nearest one to have his way with you, unsuccessfully muffling your sounds with his hand.

Three timid knocks rapped on the door once you finished the deed, accompanied by an equally timid voice. “Um, ma’am? You left it on the hanger… that dress you wanted for fitting?” You felt the blood drain from your face as you stared at your equally shocked boyfriend.

You will never be able to show face in that dress shop again.

Those were the series of events that led you to right now: your moment of truth.

You put your hair down after the dress shop incident, electing to play it safe throughout the remainder of your time in public. Once you got home, however, you tied it back up again. It was unconscious, as the sun outside was glaring bright and the AC in the house hadn’t been turned on yet. You walked into the kitchen for a cold glass of water, but you were lifted onto one of the counters by a whiny, very apologetic looking boyfriend.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, baby… I think I’ve gotten too addicted to you,” he nosed at the crook of your neck, pressing his body on yours to let you know of the returned presence of his stiff need. You chuckled at his naivety, but the guilt crept up on you until you let everything spill out.

You, him, chocolates, scrunchies, and classical conditioning.

Conveniently, you left out the part about the bet and your best friend being privy to all of it, and it was probably for the best because Jeno’s gaze was now hard and serious, his features stoic as his eyes bore into yours. Your heart was knocking hard on your ribcage, not because you were scared he might hurt you, but because you knew this look. You’ve only seen it a few times before, but the events that followed left you covered in bites, scratches, and bruises, his name seared into your throat and memory.

“You remember your colors?” You nodded slowly. He was talking about the safe word system you had agreed on for the rare moments this side of him slid out, the side of him you hadn’t seen in a while but still managed to make your heart race and your desire swell.

“Bedroom,” he muttered, head cocking to its direction, “and be undressed when I get there.”

You were swiftly on your feet, half-excited and half-nervous steps in beat with the thumping in your chest. Entering the room, you didn’t bother to close the door behind you, shedding off your clothes and folding them into a neat stack by the foot of the bed. You climbed up the mattress, sitting in the middle with your legs bent up to cover your chest, your chin resting on your knees as you stared at the open doorway, waiting.

Your punishment came walking in, and your breathing was stunted to find that he was already naked as you were. He had placed something on the bedside table, but you paid little attention as your eyes placed all focus on his angry, stiff cock jutted out in front of him. He stood back a few feet away from the bed before beckoning you over, and you slid down from the mattress onto your knees in front of him. He clutched your chin softly in one hand, stroking at your skin as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Sneaky little whore,” he spit out the words in a sneer, and his hand shoved his hold on you to the right only to clutch you right back. “And here I was thinking it was me who turned into some dirty freak, but it was you all along, hmm?” He stepped closer to your space, his hardness right in front of you. “My pretty slut always wants a hard cock ready to shove into her whenever she needs, hmm? Is that why you went this far?” You were stuck in a daze, staring at the rivulet of clear liquid that was beading at his tip until a slap to your cheek brought you back to your senses. “Answer me!”

“Yes!” you cried, your eyes glistening along with your core, the stinging sensation bringing you more pleasure than you’d care to admit.

He pouted teasingly at your pitiful expression, closing in the distance between your face and his tip. “Aww, poor baby. Do you want my hard cock now, too?” He slid it on the plane of your soft skin, smearing a line of precum on your cheek, your mouth opening by instinct to receive him. Instead, he pulled his cock back and slapped you with it before kneeling down to your level.

“You’re not getting it,” he whispered. “Not until you’re crying and begging me to slow down because your sweet little pussy can’t take any more, and once the sheets are soaked and you can’t feel your legs, that’s when I’ll finally fuck you dumb on my cock.” He said everything with a sweet smile on his eyes and lips, your mind collapsing in on itself as it battled between his innocent look and his filthy promises. “You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you? You greedy fucking nympho.” You nodded, and his fingers carded into your hair before pulling on it hard. “That’s not a fucking answer.”

“Yes! G-give it to me, please.”

He released his hold on you, walking over to the bedside to pick up what he brought in earlier. Soon, he was back in front of you, holding a white device in his hands. “Do you know what this is?” You almost nodded before catching yourself, answering with a meek “yes.” It was a hitachi wand. “This was supposed to be a gift, but you decided to act like the cockslut you are, so now it’s your punishment.”

You only managed to look up at him with wide eyes, the urge to rub your thighs together so strong but you didn’t dare, not while he was in this mood.

He was gentle with you again as he helped you up and walked you over to the bed. “Face down, ass up.” You did as you were told, climbing near the foot of the mattress, with only your rear raised up. “Spread your legs.” You heard the wand hum alive as you obliged, and you had to bite on your tongue to keep a moan from escaping.

You lurched forward when he pressed the bulbous head of the toy onto your clit, but you were stopped by his arm hooking to your thigh. Moans and swears burst from you immediately, the vibrations strong and steady and pressed so hard against you. “I want you to count.” You barely registered Jeno’s voice in the midst of your pleasure.

“Ahh!” you screamed out as his palm landed sharply on your ass.

“I said count, you dumb slut.” His reprimand came with another stinging hit.

“T-two!” He began rubbing the wand into your folds, sloppy with your slick all over, and then another smack. “Three!” He pushed it back up to your engorged clit, setting the speed higher. “Fuckfuckfuck!” Your curses spilled in time with the spanking, and you received it three times over for missing count, crying fat tears as the spot grew red and throbbed with heat.

He rubbed soothingly on the pained spot before detaching the toy from you and flipping you over to your back. He pushed you upwards on the bed, lying down on his chest before your wet core, spreading your thigh open with one hand and pressing the vibrator back on your clit with the other. You began rolling your hips, splitting your pussy lips apart on the head of the toy, your screams of pleasure filling the air.

“Is my whore about to cum?”

“Yes! Fuck yes! Gonna cum,” you dragged on the last word, your orgasm hitting you just then. Your thighs clamped shut around his arm that held the toy between them, and your lower body shook and lurched off the mattress, Jeno grazing the nails of his other hand around the skin of your abdomen. You’ve hardly come down from the high before your whole body was surging upwards again, the vibrations never ceasing in your heightened sensitivity.

“Fuck, shit, no! Stop!” His hand pressed down on your tummy as you tried to squirm away from him.

“Do I have to tie you down?”

“Ahh, fuck, please! No!”

Your second orgasm washed over you, still riding on the coattails of your previous one, and your bent legs started bouncing involuntarily on your heels, your toes curling in at the added sensation of Jeno’s nails drawing lines on your skin.

You gasped for air when the vibrations ceased and Jeno threw the toy on the space beside you. He pulled your thighs in closer to him, and your break is short lived as he shoved three fingers into you at once, splitting your walls open.

“Gonna fuck you up, gonna absolutely fucking ruin you,” he promised, kicking off with a cruel speed, met with resistance from your tightness. “How are you supposed to take my cock like this? Your pathetic little pussy can’t even handle my fingers.”

You felt him slow down, and you mewled in protest. “N-no! Hah, ah, please! My pussy loves your fingers. Love it when your fingers fuck me loose. Don’t stop, please! Don’t stop.” He curled the digits upwards and wiggled them inside you, scratching at your sweet spot.

“Fuck! Fuck! It’s here! Oh my god.” Your legs wrapped around his neck as you felt your third orgasm physically leave your body, the head you trapped between the crown of your thighs grunting below you, his nails lightly tracing on your skin again.

“You little cockslut,” he growled, “covering me in your dirty cum.” You yelped when he took his fingers out from you to land a firm slap on your clit, and your hips bucked into him as he began lapping up your juices. His tongue swirled around your oversensitive clit, and you couldn’t stop your hand from reaching down and pulling at his hair. Just for that, he let his teeth graze on your sensitive bud and you quickly retracted your touch at the warning.

His tongue is joined by his fingers again, fucking into you at a ruthless speed, the squelching sounds of your heat so loud in the mix of your moans and screams. Your hands pulled at your own scalp as your fourth orgasm knocked over, trying to focus on any sensation other than the uncontrollable, deliciously painful contractions of your pussy, the pain on your scalp not nearly enough for the task, Jeno’s fingernails on the inside of your thigh only making you tremble even more.

He allowed you a sliver of mercy, letting you catch your breath on the bed as he sat back, jerking himself to your body looking spent and ruined. After some minutes he picked you up in his arms and walked over to the far side of the room. He set you down on your feet as he yanked the curtains to one side, revealing the tall glass doors that led to the veranda on one side of the house, the side adjacent to the neighbors.

“This counts as ‘against the windows.’” He propped your arms up on the glass, your hard nipples rubbing against the cold surface, ragged breaths making a pulsing puff of white steam before your face and blocking the scene outside from your view, your skin tingling at the possibility of a stranger seeing you so fucked out and still about to get fucked some more.

You shuddered when Jeno rubbed his tip between your swollen lips. “Think you deserve my cock now, hmm?” Your body was screaming at you for a breather, but you wanted to please your man, wanted him to cum from the feeling of your abused wet pussy, so you answered by bucking your hips back into him.

He slipped inside you without any resistance now, your walls slick, velvety, and warm around him. He’s been roaring to go since you tied your damn hair up, and he wasn’t planning on taking it slow now, fucking into you hard and fast.

Your moans were weak and broken as he chased his own high from within you, and you didn’t have the strength left for any more screams when his hand reached to your clit to rub you near the edge once more. Your legs buckled repeatedly that if it weren’t for the glass, you wouldn’t have been able to take this fucking while standing.

You felt Jeno’s warm panting breaths against your ear, a moan slipping out of him every now and then. His hard dominating persona was slipping off as the pleasure caught up with him, kissing and licking at your neck. “Just one more baby. Cum one more time with me, can you do that?” You didn’t answer, your vision swimming before you. “Baby? What’s the color?”

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you rasped out, “Green.” With that, he flipped you around to face him, lifting you up with your back against the glass and wrapping your legs around him as he slotted himself back into you, going fast trying to drive you both off the edge.

“My baby’s gonna cum, right? My good girl’s gonna cum for me?” You felt his cock begin to twitch inside of you, and you pressed kisses on the tip of his nose.

“Wanna cum,” you whimpered, “gonna cum on daddy.”

His eyes squeezed shut at the slip of that word. He’s never heard you use it on him before, and fuck did it have an effect on him, his orgasm crashing down on him strong, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into you pushing you off the edge as well.

His legs grew weaker as he emptied his load in you, slowly sinking to his knees with you still wrapped around him. You stayed like that for god knows how long, your arms and legs around him, body exhausted and molded onto his like putty, his softening cock nestled in the mess he made between your thighs.

Once he felt strong enough, Jeno carried you back to the bed, just sitting on the edge as he cradled you in his arms, bouncing you softly on his lap as he waited for you to shift back to your senses, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that came out of your lips once you found your breath.

“Baby…” He shifted your bodies around, laying you down side by side facing each other. “It’s okay. I’m not angry at you.” He stroked your hair, smiling. “Well, just a little miffed. Now I finally understand why I’ve been having such a hard time recently.” You had to crack your own smile at the pun, breathing little laughs of appreciation. “Seriously! I thought something was wrong with me. I was considering a doctor’s appointment.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again, although this time with the smile still painted on your face.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he insisted. “It’s actually kinda funny now that I know what’s been going on.” You only hummed in response, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey. Baby. You sleepy? It’s only four o’clock.” Jeno nudged gently at your cheek.

Your eyes remained closed as you answered, “You just fucked me boneless. I think I deserve a nap.”

“We have,” he peeked at the digital clock on the table behind you, “three hours and then I’m waking you up. It’s still our anniversary and I’m still taking you to dinner.”

“I said you just fucked me boneless. I don’t have the legs to go for dinner,” you whined.

“Don’t worry, I can always carry you on my back like a sack of potatoes.”

“Romantic.”

“Of course, it’s what you deserve.” He chuckled as he watched your lips part slightly, your breathing evening out as you drifted to sleep. “Happy three years, baby.”

You did, in fact, end up missing dinner. Jeno overestimated his own ability to overpower his love for sleep, and you ended up cuddling deep into the night, waking up in the dead silence of 1:00 a.m. and just going for another two rounds as there was nothing else to do. No one complained, though.

Hair up or hair down, Jeno was whipped either way when he woke up before you, the sunlight piercing through the curtains he forgot to draw back and landing on your face, making you look even more ethereal to him as you slept.

Seeing you first thing in the morning stirred a familiar riot in his chest, solidifying his dream, his ambition to have each day start out like this: with your peaceful, beautiful face before him. He had to tear his gaze away from you before his desires could escalate and stir a different kind of riot. He didn’t take it easy with you yesterday-last-night-this-morning, and he knew you were probably still aching and sore all over, so he was trying to think of all the unsexy thoughts to kill his oncoming boner.

“Cute puppies. My little pony. Lee Donghyuck. Apoptosis or the death of the cell is characterized by its shrinkage, nuclear condensation, membrane—”

The mechanical chant in his head was disrupted by the feeling of your fingers smoothing his scrunched eyebrows. “You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles,” you greeted him, eyes only half open, smile beginning from one corner of your lip and slowly stretching out to the other.

Yeah. Jeno was completely, utterly whipped.

“Good morning,” he whispered, although the blinking digits told him it was already half past noon. “Come on, let’s eat.” He shook your shoulders gently just as your eyes began to close again, and you whined.

“Don’t wanna get up yet,” you complained. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he got up, deciding to cook something up and just bring it to you in bed. He was contemplating whether he needed to put clothes back on his nude self, and his answer came in the form of the doorbell buzzing.

He went out once fully dressed and opened the door to the guy who was just below My Little Pony on his boner killer scale.

“Donghyuck.”

“Jeno.”

The blonde stepped aside, allowing Donghyuck to come in with his hands full of… stuff.

“I see you’re still sporting the Chester McBadbat do,” Donghyuck commented, eyeing Jeno’s hair.

“I’ve no idea who that is, but I see you’re still unhinged as ever,” Jeno answered, gaze flitting between an impossible bag of marshmallows and a bouquet of assorted flowers.

“Babe?” Your voice floated through the hallway.

“Yeah?” Jeno replied.

“Yes, baby!” Donghyuck replied as well, but in a voice louder and more alive than Jeno’s, making the latter roll his eyes to the back of his head.

“Oh my god, Hyuckie!” Your footsteps tip-tapped on the wooden floor as you ran out to the receiving area and enveloped your best friend in a tight hug, making him drop the marshmallows but cling tight to the flowers.

“‘Don’t wanna get up’ my ass,” Jeno thought.

Donghyuck gave you a once over before saying, “Smells like orchids today.” Jeno looked at his bunch of flowers. Not a single orchid there, but he didn’t comment. He never did understand Donghyuck’s thing with flowers.

You snatched the flowers and marshmallows from him, giddy as you hopped away to the kitchen, both boys in tow behind you.

Three bowls of marbits, three glasses of orange juice, and the flowers watered in a new vase lay on the table you sat around.

“So, I’ve been thinking of growing my hair out. Whatchu think?” Hyuck asked. You were about to answer, but noticed he was looking at Jeno. Your boyfriend just shrugged in answer. “I think I will,” he continued as Jeno drank his orange juice. “Renjun said I’d look good with my hair tied up.”

It was a few seconds of sputtering orange liquid and hacking coughs that ended with you rubbing soothingly on Jeno’s back while he stared blankly at an empty wall, your eyes glaring at Donghyuck’s direction.

“What! What’d I say?” He protested, a smirk on his lips. “Wait, I just noticed. Orange juice?”

#lee jeno #nct jeno #hyucksie #pavlovandponytails #jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno

745 notes · View notes

yourcutelittlegayfriend · 9 days ago

Text

✧✦✧ PROLOGUE ✧✦✧

Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

Warning this fic will contain the following: Death (mainly YN's), Y/N getting hurt, implied to have died more than once, gun and gun violence, THE JOKER, Suicidal thoughts or low self-preservation, finally losing it and typos.

Note: Y/N will be gender neutral and no mention of specific physical traits except for general parts of the body, there are some easy hidden codes and number meaning in these and I'm trying out to see if I can pull this off.

English is not my forte, it's not my main language so sorry in advance if you cringe at my choice of words.

Let's bring it back to ???? shall we?

-✧- 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101110 01100011 01100101 -✧-

Setbacks more than I can count.

Thousand chances I tried to save.

Rinse and Repeat

Repeat and.......Rinse out the blood.

Rinse out the Pain and Suffering.

Dry off the Tears and Sweats of my efforts.

All I ever want is for you to see me.

To understand what's it like to be me.

All that I wish is for you to atleast look at me with anything but pity and indifferece.

2,789 chances and lives I relived just to become something I regret at the end of each death.

-✧✦✧- 2 7 8 9 -✧✦✧-

Blinking I looked at the end of the gun as I sit still trying not to choke on my own blood and spit as the cackle of a maniac clown drowns my sorrows.

I look at the camera as it blinks red, looking at the dirtied lenses knowing that whoever watches this could never careless if I survive this or not.

SLAP

Searing pain woke me out of my daze as my head snap to the right while my left cheek burned from the whip of the gun.

"Look alive little one! why won't you smile for the camera? Let daddy dearest know how much you miss him, hmm?". The Clown smiles at me with his cut up lips as he grips my face and shake it around.

Looking at him I show him my own smile, teeth and gums bloodied as I laugh making him frown.

"What's so funny?" He sneers as he let go.

I continued laughing as I finally descent into madness, each wheeze and giggle as my body shakes in pain and shockingly....

Relief.

Maybe.......just maybe.....this could be it.

"Aw? why the sad face Mr. Joker? are we not having fun? Do you want me to sing for a very sad clown instead?". I giggled as I stare at him with maniac eyes as I lean my tied up body to him as much as I could.

"Why so sad now? come on! you planned all this don't let it go to waste!" I say at him as I tug on my bindings.

I laughed more as I taunt him making him more angry than before.

I stop as I look at him my hair slightly covering my eyes as I smile at him one more time.

"Do it, I know you want to" I taunt him but he only frowns before smirking when he looks at something behind me.

He kicks my chair down the force me fall on my back, slamming on the concrete floor I gasp from getting the wind knocked out of my body as I painfully look up and see 'him' standing.

A wide smile broke through as I started giggling, he started talking but the blood and pump of my heart muffled everything and as soon as few more of 'them' arrived making me laugh hysterically.

BANG

Suddenly everything was quiet.

Everything was calm.

I laid on the floor and see him cradle my body.

I can't move.

I can't feel him.

I can't hear them.

I can't answer them.

How can you when you're bleeding from a hole on your head?

-✧-2 7 8 9 -- 2 7 ↓ ↓ -- 2 7 9 0-✧-

Heartbeat, repeating heartbeats.

I can hear my heartbeat again.

Gasping I look around as I see an interior of a car and turn to the window and see us pulling up somewhere.

"Here we are". I look up and see the familiar face and younger face of Commissioner Gordon again as he turn to look at me as I peer up and see my reflection on the rear view mirror.

A small younger me that's about to do the same shit all over again.

'Ah Shit, here we go again'

〖 = ✧ = 〗

I'll tag you guys later

#No More Chances #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #Platonic Batfamily #yandere batman #yandere platonic batfamily x reader

699 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 2 months ago

Text

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty.

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :)

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class."

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated.

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers.

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more.

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring.

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

728 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 11 days ago

Text

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

-------------------------------

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?"

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered.

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer.

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

-----------------------------

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!"

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you."

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

----------------------------------

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier.

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around.

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

------------------------------

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

@glenpowellluver

341 notes · View notes

thebearer · 1 year ago

Text

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust.

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust.

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.”

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-”

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.”

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.”

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him.

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.”

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.”

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good.

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.”

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.”

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office.

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully.

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-”

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?”

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!”

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant.

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.”

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open.

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least.

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.”

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.”

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned.

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush.

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly.

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-”

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently.

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered.

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted.

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.”

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat.

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him.

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded.

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright.

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.”

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert.

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left.

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed.

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock.

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?”

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered.

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.”

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?”

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.”

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil.

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.”

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven.

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.”

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?”

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment.

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie.

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.”

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.”

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room.

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded.

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.”

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in.

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!”

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please”

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good.

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!”

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him.

To: Carmen

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!”

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way.

So, Carmen did what he always did.

From: Carmen

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret.

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!”

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.”

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned.

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance.

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you.

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.”

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.”

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s.

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?”

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?”

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked.

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell.

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way.

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do.

“What? Cousin, what are you-”

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.”

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned.

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added.

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him.

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her.

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-”

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.”

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.”

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?”

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen.

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.”

3K notes · View notes

loafgeto · 1 year ago

Text

KINKMAS DAY TWO: AGE GAP WITH SATORU

synopsis | why do you always go to your dad’s workplace? well, to simply drop him off his lunch! but somehow you always end up in his boss’s office.

contents | fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language, secret relationship, AGE GAP (reader is in early 20’s while satoru is early 40’s), small mentions of tsumiki and megumi (he’s the same age as reader), implied dilf!gojo. NSFW, semi-public sex (gojo’s office - yet again), dirty talk, praising, somewhat cocky gojo, pet names (use of daddy), implied daddy kink, scratch marks, slight cock warming, slight choking (you just like gojo’s hand around your neck🤗), unprotected sex, cumshots, orgasms, squirting. you and gojo nearly get caught. not proofread !!

word count | 4.6k

notes | oh my lord i’ve never used ‘daddy’ in any of my fics before and i nearly cringed bc i remembered something from a long time ago LMFAOOO i’d call gojo daddy though cuz daddy’s home 🗣️🗣️

tags | @aydene @biscuitsngravie @homeslices @tiredkitten @get0sfav @erensflies @bleachisfood @witchbybirth (if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)

your encounter with satoru first happened when your mother requested you to bring your dad’s lunch for him, since he had forgotten it. as any normal daughter would do, of course you’d comply and take the food to your dad, thinking about nothing else but to move along with your day. he just started working under a new organization several months ago, one much larger than his previous corporation and earning a bigger salary.

it was your first time ever in the tall and luxurious building, cramped with busy employees and staff, loud sounds of voices and other noises ringing your eardrums as you navigated through. during that moment, all you knew was that you’re going to get lost, even after several workers by the front desk specifically directed you and gave you a guest pass before returning to their duties. your father message said he was on the ninth floor of the building, so that’s where you venture off to after getting on the elevator.

what was even more astonishing was the complex hallways of the ninth floor. it was awkward for you, arriving at the floor and having absolutely no knowledge of where to go. and while turning a corner, you just so happen to bump into satoru— a man who’d you never thought you’d continue seeing regularly.

at first, it was just a mild attraction. you’ve never seen him before, so you easily mistook him as someone several years older than you. but boy, were you wrong. from your first impression, you presumed satoru as an employee that everyone admired and wanted to be around with, someone who’s confident and playful, sarcastic at times, and enjoys the little things in life. satoru had immediately noticed that you were lost but pretending like you’re weren’t, and he’s teases you about it before inquiring if you need help.

and not wanting to embarrass yourself even more in front of him, you gladly accept the help of this man. and to your luck, satoru happened to know who your dad was, and guided you to the department he was positioned in. and minutes after you met with your dad, was the moment when you found out satoru was your dad’s boss. and that satoru wasn’t even damn close to your age. he was a much older man, almost as old as your own dad. satoru’s voice was raspy, but welcoming with a hint of flirtation. his white hair was natural, glossy blue eyes bright and invigorating enthusiasm like he’s in his 20’s.

you were astonished, embarrassed even to think about the fact you had the hots for him when you immediately saw him. you and your university friends always joked about having an older boyfriend, or a sugar daddy, or someone as old as their own father. you didn’t take it seriously, because you were certain that you’d never get or even find someone close to the age of your dad.

but encountering satoru just so happens to change all of that.

for the next three months, you and satoru often saw each other. your interactions were short, mostly simple hellos and how are yous, nothing more. well, maybe there was more. there was always some sort of intense tension between the two of you: manifesting for you to get close and driving you to want to continue knowing each other better. therefore, this withholding attraction just so happens to lead you to a night with satoru in a bed of a hotel.

obviously, you both agreed to keep your relationship a secret, especially away from your dad. you feel penitent sometimes whenever you hear your dad boast about how amazing satoru is, and how much he’s being promoted and getting recognition for his diligent work. your dad’s an excellent employee, and everyone grew to admire him. but most of his promotions were due to you requesting satoru to do it, well because you want the best for your dad.

and though it’s quite odd to promote a new employee to a high position, satoru still does it— somehow convincing his own bosses to accept your dad’s promotions.

however, your attraction for satoru was fervent and devouring you whole when you were trying to deny such feelings towards him. none of your friends knew about your relationship with satoru, not even your best friend- who you tell everything. he was the same as you, swearing he wouldn’t text or call you anymore and would leave you alone since it’s most likely for the best. his words dagger your heart each time, and it makes you plead for him not. hence, always caused you two to come back to each other. you can never resist the temptation of sending satoru that one message that would lead you to him pounding his heavy cock into you, having you cry for more and grind your body against his.

therefore, your secret relationship then continued for another five months— and well, you’re most definitely certain that you’re in love with satoru. but you’re probably never going to disclose such information, though you’re certain you make it obvious. satoru’s love life was never as fortunate either. his relationship with his previous wife consisted of countless arguments, disagreements and misunderstandings that she couldn’t handle it anymore. but that’s all you know, and you figured he’d probably never get too serious with a 20 year old and just wants to mess around for the fun of it.

so, you’re deciding to take this moment of fun until you both officially come to terms of no longer contacting each other.

your dad’s aware of the bond you and satoru share, but he only thinks it’s because of your similar interests in traveling. whenever satoru is invited to your parents’ home and you’re there, he’d always inform you about his weekend or business trips, encouraging you to go and buying you souvenirs. you both pretend as if you never see each other, but of course, it’s most likely possible that you two were fucking in his car the night before. your dad had never once assumed anything sexual between you and satoru, so you both got away with it perfectly.

today’s another day where you’re dropping off your dad’s lunch. you offered to bring your dad lunch nearly every single day, which allowed your mother to prepare warm dishes for him. and because of your regular visits, nearly everyone on the ninth floor knew about you. they always greeted you, welcomed you with smiles and short taps on the shoulder. most of the men tease your dad, since they wanted their daughters to bring them their lunch too but other than that, no one ever speculates on the other reasons why you’re actually there.

“[name]! you’re here early,” your dad greets you whenever you approach his office desk. he takes a quick glance at the bento box wrapped in your hand and smiles. “i wonder what your mother made for me today. i can already smell how wonderful it is.”

you chuckle. “right? i almost ate it on the way here.”

“are you hungry too? we can share,” your dad replies with a short laugh as you place the bento box down on his desk. “just give me about ten more minutes, sweetie. i’m almost done with my final documents,” he adds on next to which you shake your head.

“it’s alright, dad. i have to get going now anyway. i’m meeting up with several of my friends for a study session, i’ll see you later tonight though,” you reply, smiling before leaning down to peck a kiss on your dad’s cheek. he sighs, disappointed since he always looks forward to sharing his lunches with you but he returns a wide smile.

“okay, my daughter, no problem at all. call me whenever you’re coming over then,” your dad utters, and you nod before saying your final byes and waves.

as you disappear from your dad’s sight, you quietly slip to the restroom nearby. he thinks you’re leaving, but you’re actually not. interestingly enough, this restroom was just right across from satoru’s office, and you always used the area to your advantage in order to sneak into his office. it’s worked countless of times, and you didn’t even notify satoru about coming to see him today, since it wasn’t like you go there everyday.

there wasn’t any employees or anyone else around, so you gently knock on his office door. you wait several moments, before hearing him reply from the other side. “come in.”

twisting the knob and opening the door, you step inside, eyes faltering to satoru.

satoru was sitting behind his desk, eyes riveted on the screen of his computer that he didn’t even look away until he detected your figure in his perception. satoru lifts his gaze, surprised that you appeared unexpectedly and stands from his chair. “[name], what are you doing here?” he questions.

“oh, you know- just dropping off my dad’s lunch like always. surprise?” you reply, almost with a giddy attitude as satoru approaches you. he shuts the door behind of you, clicking it locked before pressing his hand on your back to pull you close to him.

“you should’ve called or texted me that you were coming,” satoru pouts, leaning in for a kiss but you turn your head, rejecting his lips and furrow your brows. satoru chuckles, “no kiss today?”

“if you give me a kiss, you know where it’ll lead to.”

satoru smiles, now pressing your body close to his. “i know, princess. but just one? been missing you since yesterday after you left,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear that it’s almost hard to resist not crashing your lips onto his.

it’s addicting— satoru and his tender voice, words pulling you in like a magnet and making your heart flit in motions you couldn’t control. you shift your eyes slightly, meeting his gaze before pouting. “i’m guessing that’s a yes then,” satoru smiles wider before leaning in, pressing his lips passionately against yours.

your hands reach behind satoru’s back, nudging into the material of his blazer as he deepens the kiss, holding your body against his. your eyes close shut, lips hungrily moving with satoru’s, and a moan quietly escapes when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. he groped the side of your ass with a hand, gently caressing the fat underneath your denims.

“sa-satoru..” you quietly utter as he breaks the kiss, lowering his lips against your jawline and down your neck. “n-no more..”

“you sure, angel? sounds like you don’t want me to stop though,” satoru purrs, pulling his face away to directly look down at you again. a faint smirk appears on his lips as he drags his thumb over your lips. “we only saw each other for twenty minutes yesterday, ‘nd i wasn’t able to return the favor for you. let me do something quick, yeah?”

satoru’s words are alluring, and you find yourself nodding your head before you even realized it.

whatever satoru meant by ‘doing something quick’, just so happens to steer towards you being stuffed with his cock and riding him while he sits on his chair. you’re both completely naked, clothes discarded around his office’s floor, moans muffled behind of your lips as you slowly rock your hips, moving against the length of his hard member. satoru’s holding his moans too, dick throbbing from the feeling of your gummy walls pulsating and tightening around him.

“you really gotta stop coming here, princess. i’m out of condoms because of you,” satoru speaks softly, a low grunt following after as he feels you squeeze around him when you glide your hips up. initially, satoru wouldn’t have done this because he’s out of protection, but hearing your whiny voice and seeing your desperate expression granted the acceptation of going raw. “b-but you’re the one who-“ you start, pausing when satoru bucks his hips, jerking his cock deep in your aching hole.

“i was the one who what?” satoru repeats with a smug smile, both hands holding the sides of your hips. you squirm, unable to reply at that instant, feeling intense rushes of ecstasy flowing in your veins. “you’re blaming me for this?”

“no..” you finally respond with a short squeal, bouncing your hips faster on his cock. most of the time when you two are having sex, it’s with a condom and you never feel the bare skin of his dick unless it’s in your mouth. but whenever it’s inserted warm and hard into your pussy, you just become an entirely different person— drunk all over him and moving like you’re trying to milk him dry. “‘ts my fault, ‘toru. shouldn’t have c-come here..”

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have, but i’m glad you did,” satoru replies, eyes lowering to where you two connected. his cock twitches each moment he watches your folds spreading just to fit him, his girth getting coated by your slickness and clenched by your overbearing neediness. “can never get tired of my cock, no?”

“never!” you mewl out, your fingertips prodding into the flesh of satoru’s shoulders. your moans pitch louder, nearly resonating the room along with the wet squelching noises of your pussy grinding against satoru’s cock. it’s filthy to hear, but you loved it. “love, love, your cock s’much..”

“you gotta be quiet princess, these walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru groans quietly, slapping your ass as you proceed to bounce your hips. of course, you’re aware of that, you always are but you can’t refrain yourself from moaning like that. especially when satoru’s bare cock is rubbing into you so perfectly, making you reach an orgasm.

“satoru, satoru- please-“ you cry out his name repeatedly, but he quiets your lips by pinning his against yours, having your moans fall into his mouth instead. you know you need to tone your voice down, especially when there’s high chances of people walking outside of satoru’s office. the only benefit of fucking in his office was that there wasn’t any windows peering out to the hall. however, even if these walls were thick enough, satoru knew you’d both get caught eventually because of how loud you’re moaning.

but satoru couldn’t deny the way he loves hearing you utter his name so affectionately and erotically when you’re pleading for more. it makes him feel like he’s special, like he’s being gifted by something no one else can receive from you. you’re so different from his previous partners, it always makes him ponder how he even found himself in a situation with a college girl. he’s not complaining though, not after reaching this far with you. satoru’s thoughts process towards an end when his smirk grows wider because of your cunt fluttering around him, making him realize you’d reach your orgasm.

“‘toru.. please.. want you to fuck me, please,” you whine, pushing your hips down to feel his cock spread your sensitive walls once more. you’re almost rocking against him again before he firmly holds you, smiling at how needy you already became even after orgasming.

“you wouldn’t want your father to know that you’re fucking his boss, do you—?” satoru tilts his head, as he brings one hand to softly thumb the skin underneath your eyelids. “or maybe you do, that’s why you’re begging for me like this.”

“no, no, i don’t. please, satoru- i’ll be quiet, i promise,” you frown, trying to convince him with your sheepish voice. but you both know that wasn’t bound to occur. with the way satoru thrusts his hips, it’s unlikely you’d stay quiet even with something covering your mouth. you bite your lower lip, trying not to move your hips as you cockwarm him for a little while. he gives you an expression of consideration, a small and sly smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

“fine. but on one condition.”

your eyes seem to light up, and nodding your head, you’re indicating that you’ll do anything if it meant satoru fucking you.

“you’ll have to call me daddy,” satoru blurts the condition, raising your body to press you down against his desk, knocking several small objects off the surface and making them roll on the ground. you breathe a small gasp, glancing up at him with a large set of eyes. “am i seeing this as a no?”

you shake your head at an instant, pulling him close by the neck. “n-no.. i’ll say it,” you reply quietly, swallowing lightly.

“hmm?”

“da-daddy… please, i want your cock..” you plead once again, almost breaking gazes with him because of how flustered you felt. you never uttered such name in a sexual setting before, but maybe you’ll start to like it, the way satoru is.

satoru has you in the mating press position, pressing your thighs down close to the cold top of his desk as he pushes his cock past your folds and starts thrusting his hips. your breathy moans starts plummeting fast and it’s just as you thought before, you’re unable to refrain them back. especially with the angle of your g-spot satoru’s cock is scraping against, driving you back towards another orgasm and stirring your core.

“n-ngh- fuck!” you cry, eyes shutting as your hands begin to claw the skin of satoru’s back.

“you really want to get caught, don’t ya?” satoru chuckles, nudging his cock into your deepest parts and feeling your cunt squeeze around him. just as long as everyone outside was occupied and not paying too close attention, you two would most likely be fine. but your voice seems to be pitching higher each moment, potentially drawing others to become curious on what’s happening in this room.

“no! i-i don’t, ‘m sorry, daddy- i’ll really quiet down,” you manage to choke out as he’s gradually pounding into you, heavy balls smacking against your wet vulva. satoru groans quietly, murmuring low explicit words as his fingertips prod the flesh of your thighs. you press your palm over your lips, hoping that’d help your moans stop from reaching further out to the other side of satoru’s office door.

“is my good girl sure ‘bout that? sure she can keep quiet while being fucked by my cock?” satoru grunts, lifting one of his hands to wrap around your neck. he gently presses against your throat, smirking at how you’re covering up your moans even though they’re still audible beneath. well, how can you now when he’s saying that name to address you?

honestly, satoru lost the amount of times he’s fucked you like this. he still remembers the first time— when you both encountered each other in front of a convenience store one late friday night. you were returning home from a college party, while he just finished completing paperwork. surprisingly, you weren’t as drunk as satoru expected, since most college students partied hard. even though you weren’t drunk, you acted like it. stumbling your words, averting your gaze from his, appearing flustered each moment he neared you. there was no stench of alcohol on you, and he speculated you were directing towards something else. however, he didn’t assume further until you two neared a hotel. you seemed to have noticed the building and it must’ve triggered a nerve, as satoru shortly finds your lips pressing on his. you admitted how you wanted him, and that was all when it started.

such a young and horny adult yearning for the touch of an older man. when you two fucked the first time: your cunt openly took in his thick length, your walls opening to fit around him perfectly— such a young pussy satoru never thought he’d have his cock stuffed in. the way your quiet moans quickly turned into loud ones, voice crying out his name until you no longer couldn’t.

satoru had never felt attracted to a younger woman before, specifically one who’s still in college and younger than his own daughter. you were even the same age as his son, megumi. satoru figured you’d probably affix your attraction towards him, but he shortly realizes how you completely disregard the boy, even when megumi showed interest in you under his stoic demeanor.

just what was so special about satoru that made you stay around him?

“fucking around with a man as old as your dad, aren’t you ashamed?” satoru questions, his hand still wrapped around your neck before he pushes your hand away to insert his thumb into your mouth. your tongue instantly swirls around his finger, eyes nearly rolling back because of how rough satoru’s thrusting. “it’s ‘cause i fuck you good, don’t i? that’s why you’re always coming around.”

“n-no, that’s not true!” you cry out, your throat moving against his palm. “then what about you? a-aren’t you messing with someone as old as your daughter?” you repeat the question, making him hiss slightly.

“what if i said i’m not ashamed?” satoru decides to answers, short groans following as he fastens his thrusts, making you wince louder. “if i was, i wouldn’t be doing this with you, y’know. it may be wrong, but it feels right.”

“‘toru—“ you whine, tears welling your eyes as you’re unable to formulate the proper words to respond to him. but they dagger you in the heart, making it pound heavily, flourishing your ears. in this sense, you believed in satoru’s words and you also felt the same he did. “i love you, i love you, satoru,” you manage to chant out.

those three words were something satoru’s never expected to hear from you and for some reason, it switches something in him. he knows why and what it is: he loves you too. he’s just been too afraid to admit it ever since his first marriage failed, claiming that there’s no curse worse than love. satoru claims it’s utter bullshit, that there’s no need for such emotions because of what it can do to a person. but when satoru met you— you just happen to change it all for him.

“f-fuck..” satoru grunts, holding your jawline before kissing you harshly. he’s still thrusting, sensually and rough, pace quickening as he’s nearing his orgasm. “mm- i’m always around you- because i love you, ‘toru!” you repeat again when your lips parts. your mind somewhat was becoming foggy, yet these words are able to slip out casually, but it’s genuine and that’s all you need to get your reason across.

“i love you too, [name]. sososo much,” satoru replies as your lips meet again, your tongues passionately grinding together. his thrusts become harder to the point his desk is shaking and slightly moving to another position. his lips move down to your neck, peppering soft kisses before he whines in your ear. “fuck it. scream all you want, baby. let your dad and everyone else hear how much we love each other.”

your pussy clenches around him at his words. it’s arousing to think about, to imagine other people outside listening to an older man relentlessly fuck his cock into you. you’re already staining satoru’s desk with your arousal, both of your moans mixing with the wet sounds from where you two connected becoming louder that it’d probably be audible from the hall.

“i—i’m cumming.. oh god-“ you can’t fathom how many times satoru has already made you orgasm, you’ve lost track. your body’s sensitive and quivering with the amount of pleasure flowing through your veins. it’s overwhelming, however it feels absolutely amazing.

satoru’s rough drags with his cock has you nudging your nails into the skin of his back once more, leaving long red scratch marks visible on his pale skin. you’re both close, warm bodies chafing against each other’s as time slowly rolls forward. maybe you two didn’t know that there were several people outside of satoru’s office, unbeknownst to what was happening on the other side.

“don’t forget the name, princess. c’mon, let me hear it.”

“daddy!” your cry of pleasure echoes off the walls, it’s incomparable to the sound of his cock ravaging your cunt, plunging deep towards your womb. “a-are you gonna cum, daddy? please cum inside me.”

“y’know, i can’t do that, angel,” satoru grunts, lifting your body off the table and propping you up with his firm hold. he’s never given you a creampie before, out of concern of you getting pregnant since the chances were still much very high despite his age. but seeing how you’re always so desperate for one just makes satoru want to forget the consequences at least once and do it.

“please— ‘toru- ngh, daddy, please!” you whine out, feeling him piston hard into you when you uttered his name. your moans are messy, his thrusts are sloppy and wet, and whoever else is outside is probably aware of what’s happening. but you two couldn’t care about the world, thoughts only occupied with each other’s embraces and passion. “please don’t pull outtt!” you cry next, sucking his cock into your cunt.

but he doesn’t listen to you and pulls out anyway.

“fuck, i’m cumming,” satoru groans before his warm load shoots on your lower belly, and your ejaculation follows next, squirting all over him, parts of his desk and the floor.

gaspy breaths were only heard between you and satoru as he sets you back on the desk, your forehead pressing against his bare chest. you can hear the vibrations of his heart, pounding softly beside your ear as one of his hands reach to hold the back of your head. the moment feels rather romantic, and you couldn’t help but recall to the moment he said he loves you too.

it sends roiling signals to your core and your eyes search for satoru’s face as he was cleaning up the mess on your lower belly. “‘toru..” you whisper softly and he raises his gaze.

“yes?” he replies.

there were no more words uttered when your lips meet his, ever so gently and endearing. you feel satoru smile within the kiss as he pulls your chest close to his. it’s romantic, more than anything you’ve felt before. was this what it was like being in love with an older man? or just, gojo satoru in general?

a knock shortly interrupts you and satoru, causing the two of you to drift away and turn towards the door.

“um.. sir, are you alright in there?”

the voice belonged none other than to your father.

you panic, turning to satoru who shakes his head, indicating for you to remain silent. he keeps a calm expression through all this. satoru then remembered about a small group meeting he needed to attend, but forgot about it due to your arrival. he sighs, “i’m fine. just got distracted a little, please go to the room. i will be there shortly.”

“understood,” your father replies, before quiet hurries leave the other side of the door.

it’s silent again, but just to make sure no one else was still out there, the two of you quickly cleaned up and redressed in your clothes. satoru takes a quick peek into the hall, sighing when there wasn’t anyone around anymore. but that didn’t mean that no one didn’t hear what was happening inside of his office. satoru’s certain that your dad’s aware about him sleeping with someone, but that someone he didn’t know was you. from now on, it’s going to be riskier. but satoru couldn’t stop himself anymore. he returns to you, watching as you were slipping on your shoes.

“you free tonight?” satoru questions, a small grin on his face for a hopeful yes.

“i’m going to my parents’ for dinner tonight,” you reply, approaching him and tiptoeing to give him another quick kiss on the lips. “well.. i mean, i’m free after that though.”

satoru’s eyes burn with excitement, and he wraps his arms around you once more. “come to my house afterwards then. megumi’s out with his friends for the night so it’ll just be you and me,” he explains, lowering his face near yours. “we can have a nice dinner. talk and do whatever. that sound good to you?”

“sounds more than wonderful,” you reply, giggling softly.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: happy early birthday to my one and only gojo satoru 😴 i should’ve published on his bday but i already have my dates set up UGH it’s ok. hope you guys enjoyed this! once again i was just rushing with the end, LMAO. no pt. 2 for this!! but definitely more dilf/older man gojo fics in the future :P likes and reblogs are always appreciated! thanks for the love and support

2K notes · View notes